Carver wearily watched Janeka and a small complement of wardens intercept the party.

"You're that Champion…Hawke?" Janeka faltered, lowering her staff at apparent intruders. "Yes, the Carta spoke of you. No wonder you could travel this deep into the prison. Malcolm Hawke's blood runs in your veins."

Garrett quirked a brow. "You better not be Corypheus."

Janeka scanned the party's grip on their weapons, save for Carver resting his hand on his pommel. The warden-commander let Garrett's threat roll off her back. "You refer to the most powerful darkspawn the Wardens have ever encountered. Thirty years ago, my predecessor had Malcolm Hawke perform blood magic rituals to reinforce the prison's seals, however I believe the wardens of that time were mistaken. Corypheus isn't a threat to humanity, but our greatest opportunity: a darkspawn who can speak, feel, and reason."

Anders immediately snorted. "Please, talking darkspawn are as clever as humans. You're fooling yourself into believing one would willingly assist wardens in any capacity."

Janeka shook her head. "There is more to gain from undoing Corypheus' prison than simply freeing oneself from this place. I have a spell that will allow me to harness Corypheus and use his magic to end all blights."

"Blood magic," Fenris perceived.

Justice was blessedly self-aware in the moment to play the dumb cat. Based on the tabby's expression, the spirit was barely containing the urge to attack – or worse, speak.

"Like the rituals," Janeka pointed out, "which were created in an age where the Chantry had yet outlawed blood magic. This is the way of the Grey Wardens. The world wouldn't know peace otherwise."

At that moment, Larius leapt out from the shadows, spit flying. "Corypheus is using you! Using the Calling to make you believe – his thoughts are yours. The thought that he's negotiable! Controllable!"

"You're obviously tainted yourself," Janeka dismissed. "From your ghoulish degradation, you're close to the end of your Calling: when withering wardens descend the Deep Roads and take down as many darkspawn as possible with them. The company you keep is crazy, Hawke."

"We like to keep to a theme," Garrett drawled.

"The Wardens knew Corypheus was too powerful," Larius insisted. "His waning prison — is the opportunity to kill him. Before he regains consciousness!"

"Hold it," Garrett cut in. "How can a…darkspawn blood mage drive the Carta insane and seek my blood while asleep?"

"He dreams," Larius crooned.

Janeka nodded.

"Right," Garrett deadpanned. "You think you can control someone like that?"

"Never!" Larius raged. "She knows not of what she speaks! This one force-fed the taint to the dwarves outside – sent them after the blood of Hawke!"

"You what?" Bethany frowned.

Janeka's temper cracked. "And you threatened the life of Malcolm Hawke's pregnant lover to drag him into your antics! I recognise your armour and visage, Warden-Commander. I would have never gone to such lengths just for world peace!"

The wardens behind Janeka shifted. "Warden-Commander Larius…?"

"I know your faces," Larius squinted, speaking softly. "Alec, Roland, you once followed me faithfully."

The wardens guiltily averted their gaze from both Larius and Janeka.

"I dislike overthinking," Garrett decided. "I had a plan and I'm sticking to it. Corypheus dies."

Janeka gaped at Garrett's logic. "At the cost of potentially ending all blights?"

Carver sighed. "If Corypheus is indeed powerful and capable of manipulating any tainted creature, then the reason he hasn't been killed all this time is probably because he can cheat death. Slay him, and he might transfer his soul to a nearby tainted creature like the darkspawn trapped in this prison, or these wardens who have come to use him."

Janeka twitched at his confidence. "Because talking darkspawn are so simple to deduce for you?"

Anders shrugged. "We've disposed our fair share. Although, Carver, I never did hear how you resolved that situation back in Amaranthine."

"Solona handled it," Carver deflected, "and not all wardens are privvy to their order's secrets, much less an outsider like myself."

Garrett blinked. "Solona Amell, as in our mage cousin? Mother mentioned one of ours had joined the Wardens."

"Then you must see reason." Janeka gestured to Garrett's staff. "Immortal or not, Thedas' best chance for peace is the imprisonment or enslavement of this creature, and no prison can hold him any longer."

"Watch yourself, Warden-Commander," Carver warned. "I shared what I know of a talking darkspawn like Corypheus, but not a rejection. If my brother seeks Corypheus' death, then death he shall receive. Garrett, let's abduct a tainted Carta gangster."

"And force Corypheus to transfer his soul into a magicless vessel," Garrett caught on, "then set the harmless wack loose where he can't hurt anyone. You're sure this will work?"

"Complete confidence invites arrogance," Carver denied, "but whatever you desire, I'll do my best to realise."

Garrett nodded to Janeka and Larius. "Alright Warden Junior, Warden Senior. Out of professional curiosity, I'll watch your attempt to control this Corypheus, and upon its apparent failure, the darkspawn dies. Does this satisfy the Order of the Morally Grey?"

The wardens reluctantly assented.

"Glad we could talk over it." Garrett sheathed his staff, allowing the fallen brick wall he had been holding up behind the wardens to tip and collapse the opposite direction.

The wardens jumped as Garrett and the party passed them. Kirkwall's high-ranking Circle mages were the only force magic practitioners Carver knew of, and Garrett and Bethany were naturals at it. For a rare specialisation, Bethany had learned she was Fade-touched as a child when she had instinctively — and quite accidentally — thrown a bully across a field and knocked him out. The Hawkes still blamed the incident on a passing bear to this day.

Carver drew close to Garrett and lowered his voice. "I don't think I have to warn you to watch your back."

Garrett matched his volume. "You think highly of the Wardens, do you not?"

"In Ferelden," Carver corrected, "seeing as I fought alongside some of them before. Still, if a darkspawn like Corypheus can sabotage the minds of tainted dwarves, what's to say he can't nearby wardens?"

"Mind control," Garrett murmured. "The hallmark of blood magic. This whole situation is insane. Anders mentioned he had encountered talking darkspawn before coming to Kirkwall, but it seemed like a tale. Actually, you featured prominently in his accounts — including beyond his time in Amaranthine."

"Wardens Elissa and Solona led those of us involved," Carver replied. "A teenage soldier with Summer Sword would merely stand out in one's memory."

Anders had actually never seen Carver wield the blade, but that was the excuse Carver was running with.

"A sword once lost in the blight." Garrett glanced at Carver's sheathed weapon, then at Janeka and Larius trailing behind the main group. Carver was concealing Summer Sword's identity from them, and thus the rumoured skill of its wielders. "You received it from Solona Amell?"

Carver spoke carefully. "Ser Cauthrien of the king's army had gifted the sword to Solona and saved Solona's life at the cost of her own. As a mage, Solona saw fit to hand the weapon to someone more worthy of the blade. I happened to encounter her soon after Ser Cauthrien's sacrifice, and with the logistical nightmare caused by the blight, no one has since formally relieved me of this."

"And the talking darkspawn?" Garrett continued. "Without Anders' stories, I wouldn't have known they could exist, much less that some had stirred up trouble while the Hero was partying in Denerim. How did a soldier like you end up involved?"

"I was guarding Arl Nathaniel Howe," Carver replied, "and that's all I can say. Despite Anders' chattiness, no one but the inner circle of Ferelden's Order can know about what happened in Amaranthine."

Anders grumbled behind them, catching the tail end of their conversation. "If you didn't want me revealing what I knew about you and talking darkspawn, you should have prevented me from tagging along to the Vimmark Mountains. I bet you somehow deduced what we would face here."

"Maybe." Carver coughed. "You were my idea."

Anders gaped.

Garrett blinked. "I thought you two were friends when Carver told me he wanted you to come."

"I would hardly call us that," Carver teased. "Anders just owes me one-half of a mission facing talking darkspawn."

Anders squawked.

The rest of the group noticed.

Fenris raised a brow. "What exactly awaits us at the end of all these seals?"

Janeka scoffed in response and Larius raved nonsense. The front of the party quickly averted a Carta ambush, complete with Carver disarming a Carta gangster while Bethany knocked the dwarf out with a telekinetic slam to the ground. Garrett hauled their bounty over his shoulder and moved on.

Carver sheathed his blade. "Given Corypheus' intelligence and power, and the age of the ruins around us, he must have been one of the Magisters Sidereal: the mages who trespassed the Golden City and brought a blight upon the world."

The wardens with them spluttered.

"Nonsense!" Larius declared, and for once the others seemed inclined to agree.

Carver didn't deign to respond.

Varric muttered. "If I need to know how to kill anything, I should just consult you."

"I'm sorry," Garrett interjected. "We're supposed to kill one of the first sinners in human history!?"

"While he's waking up," Carver added. "Fully awake, we'd need more than just the lot of us. Your magic is powerful, Garrett, but it can't blow up a mountain. Of course, this is only if I'm correct."

"Silly me for not preparing ahead," Garrett quipped.

Garrett and Bethany didn't know that they had grown accustomed to performing magic near Carver as children. Without Carver by their side, the mages not only had access to their full power, but by this point also had a refined control over their mana that allowed Garrett to destroy the viscount's roof and Bethany to become an enchanter within three years of joining the Circle.

The tower finally opened up to the night sky where the moon and stars draped the Vimmark Mountains in greyscale light. Carver inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with crisp, earthy air.

"This is where you stop," Garrett turned to the wardens. "If I'm to kill Corypheus and stuff him into an insane person beyond the point of saving, it'll be the one who didn't threaten my pregnant mother or arrange a hit on me and my siblings. No offence."

Janeka crossed her arms while Larius and the rest were content to stay back. "Am I to shackle Corypheus from this distance?"

"Where's your earlier confidence?" Garrett marched on to the centre of the tower's topmost floor encircled by pillars and griffon statues. He tossed his voice back. "I believe in your ability to fail, Warden!"

Garrett dumped the Carta gangster next to a griffon statue on his way to the floor's magic circle, then drained its power with a cut of his palm and a motion of his staff. From the circle's centre materialised a tall, spindly darkspawn whose flesh and robes were fused together, contributing to his disproportionately large head and long limbs. Half of the darkspawn's face was sunken in like melted wax, thinning his basso into an eerie lisp.

"Dumat, speak!" Corypheus cried out to the mountain sky just as Janeka fired a spell at him.

With a twitch of Corypheus' clawed fingers, the magic scattered, then drilled Janeka's way before throwing her off the tower in the blink of an eye. Corypheus peered down at the party.

Garrett lit his staff up with electricity. "I'm not surprised, just disappointed."

"Be you slaves or citizens of the Imperium," Corypheus boomed, "your allegiance is owed to all magisters. Kneel! I demand answers!"

Bethany groaned while she watched Garrett unleash the full might of his lightning magic. "Just once, I wish you were wrong, Carver!"

BOOM!

The lightning parted past Corypheus like a curtain and spun out, pulling the air around each bolt before maturing into a controlled hurricane with the tower in its eye. The griffon statues around everyone lit up, attuned to the magic circle – or indeed, any blood magic as Corypheus dug into his frayed memories and mana reserves to command ice.

Varric wildly fired bolts at the blizzard gathered around Corypheus. "No one is going to believe this story in a million years!"

Garrett telekinetically deflected a barrage of floor tiles tossed up by the storm. "First he goes after the Maker in His house, then me in mine. I should feel honoured!"

Fenris snorted as he gripped his sword. "If Hawke has the energy to joke around, we're golden."

Carver followed Fenris into the fray as they confronted Corypheus directly, Carver rolling aside of spells and Fenris trading glancing blows for a transient jab through Corypheus' ribs. Fenris materialised his hand to combust Corypheus' side with blood. In Carver's periphery, he noticed Bethany and Anders defending their Carta hostage from collateral damage. Justice's fur flared blue with an instinctive cloak of Fade energy, lending him invincibility.

"Curs!" Corypheus seethed and raised a hand.

Carver dove for Fenris before he knew what he was doing – just in time for them to slam into a pillar together. Carver's hasty cleanse of magic around them had barely spared them from the lightning whose thunder had thrown them halfway across the room. Fenris dazedly moaned under Carver who distantly realised his mouth was burning and tasted like iron. He had bitten his tongue.

The griffon statues on either side of them suddenly uprooted from the ground and violently tumbled past them for Corypheus. Carver turned and blearily caught Garrett leaping up the trail of statues to axe his staff's blade down on the darkspawn with a roar. The air itself seemed to split with raw power as Garrett and Corypheus' lightning magic clashed.

Fenris lifted his head to peer at the scene, only for Carver to shove his head back down and drive his sword tip into the ground.

BOOOOOOM!

Shielding Carver and another from a blinding, thunderous explosion threatened to splinter his mind. Carver had to meet such power with an equally willful grasp of theoretical physics, and the instant Carver tried, he felt all his energy suck out of his naval. Summer Sword was the only reason he was still crouched over Fenris instead of flat on the ground with him. Yet if Carver didn't cleanse the space around them of magic, they risked being fried. Whereas smite was a one-off explosion, cleanse area was a continuous wave of world order. At least Bethany and Anders could protect themselves and the Carta gangster with shields.

The moment lasted only a second.

Carver thanked the Maker it did as he fainted.

Voices beyond Carver's awareness quieted as he slowly opened his eyes. Garrett and the party were sprawled across the parlour of the Hawke estate. Carver was still in his chainmail; most likely, he had just been dumped on the couch before regaining consciousness.

Carver carefully sat up, feeling the tell-tale exhaustion of having strained himself with Templar abilities. "I take it Corypheus is a helpless dwarf, now?"

Varric chuckled from where he was perusing Garrett's library. "Remember how Bethany wished you were wrong once? She takes it back."

Carver glanced around, noting her absence. Already back to the Gallows, sadly.

"Proximity meant little," Fenris commented. "The Carta dwarf awoke unchanged in his insanity and scurried after Larius' shadow, as did the other wardens. It seems Corypheus possessed the former warden-commander."

"The Free Marches' Order won't readily fall under Corypheus' thrall," Carver determined he could safely share. "A senior warden by the name of Jean-Marc Stroud is investigating Warden-Commander Janeka's recent activity as Commander of the Grey. Her untimely death will force him to enquire after details. Healthy suspicion of Larius and his complement of wardens will curb Corypheus' ability to alter other wardens' minds."

Anders huffed. "Even unconscious, you somehow know more than we do."

Carver deflected. "I'm supposed to be a Ferelden spy, remember?"

"I'll share one fact you don't know before Mother realises we're home," Garrett spoke. "We killed Malvernis."

Justice purred in Anders' lap. "I dealt the finishing blow."

Anders cooed. "Yes you did." Which probably meant Anders had held the cat up to the demon's face and let Justice bat its nose.

"Malvernis turned into a skeletal dragon halfway through," Garrett continued. "Was it the same for you?"

Carver rubbed his temples, surrendering to Garrett's willfulness to fight one ancient evil after another. "No, Gaxkang remained humanoid to the end."

Anders chirped. "Then who was the spectral dragon in the Blackmarsh?"

"The Queen of the Blackmarsh," Carver curtly replied. "An actual dragon who merely left a weight in reality past her death. She was nowhere near as difficult as a Forbidden One."

Varric spluttered. "You've killed a high dragon before?"

Carver smoothly replied, "It was a group effort."

"Now that we're all up to speed," Garrett sighed, revealing a gilded envelope, "I regret to inform that I've been invited to a party, and am allowed a few additions to accompany me."

Carver collapsed back into the couch. "You also killed Antivan Crows while dragging my body back here?"

"We had help," Fenris muttered.

"Don't take Tallis for face value," Carver reluctantly advised. "She's a Ben-Hassrath."

Brief choking answered his honesty.

Garrett recovered and slowly turned to Carver. "I just want to say…I'm fine with you being a Qunari spy. If you were one."

Carver whipped his gaze to the side. "You think I'm a Qunari spy!? You spend too much time with Tethras."

Varric held his heart in mock pain.

Garrett raised placating hands. "Spies don't have to be only Ferelden. I don't wish to discriminate. Also, it's creepy how you know details typically beyond one's ability."

"Which makes me a viddathari?" Carver deadpanned. "I have friends who tell me things, Garrett."

"Could have fooled me," Garrett muttered. "Anyway, spy or not, Tallis just wants help from Kirkwall's Champion with stealing a jewel from Duke de Montfort's vault. Between someone of straight-forward goals like her, and random assassins who'd rather steal a letter than scale Duke de Montfort's walls, I'd prefer to share my invitation with the former. Are you coming or not?"

"Of course I am." Carver eyed Garrett's invitation. "Rendon Howe is hiding in Château Haine, after all."

Varric chuckled and waved his hands in front of him. "If I attend, you're taking the lead, Hawke. I'm allergic to snobs."

Anders distractedly petted Justice. "You can count me out of this one. Maybe invite Vael – he's an actual prince."

Fenris supportingly nodded to Garrett. "Where you go, I follow."

"Mother," Garrett cheerfully greeted the parlour's new arrivals. "Uncle Gamlen, cousin. You won't believe what Father had sacrificed to buy his family a new life."

While Garrett drew Leandra, Gamlen, and Charade in to update them on recent events, Carver shifted over to Anders' side and lowered his voice. "Has Bethany ever spoken to you about her…research club?"

Anders quirked a brow at him. "I'm an agent of the Mage Underground."

"And?"

"Here I thought you knew her fraternity's principles," Anders snorted.

Carver cleared his throat. "I understand Bethany's people enjoy research and community."

"We also oppose religious influence over public life," the mage shared, "and the abuse of state power."

Oppose what now?

Anders was still going. "I guess it's just a product of Bethany having been in Kirkwall long enough, and of the fraternity's amicable approach to apostates. Bethany laid down the principle that respecting each other's beliefs helps smooth over the exchange of information, considering we count Dalish among our number."

Bethany had founded a science club so nerdy, they considered state governments and the Chantry merely obstructive to their pursuit of knowledge. If they could gain information from mages outside the Circle, why wouldn't they? Did it matter if mages learned from other mages, whether apostate or even Dalish?

Carver subtly coughed. "The College of Enchanters is composed of fraternities. Of enchanters."

Anders hummed. "Technically, fraternities only send enchanters to represent them in College meetings, and since we don't attend College meetings anyway…."

"Bethany bribed you to join, didn't she," Carver realised with silent horror. "Should the fraternity ever come to light, the Chantry won't be able to oppose your freedom from the Circle or your lack of a phylactery without risking friction with the Illuminati's Dalish members." Anders blinked at Carver's name for the fraternity, but Carver was already whiplashing. "Wait. Did you tell Bethany what I said about Templars?"

"Now that I know you're siblings," Anders admitted, "I'm surprised you hadn't told her before me — or simply groomed her to create her own fraternity."

"I try to allow my siblings their independence," Carver reluctantly replied.

Anders quietly spluttered. "What makes you think that's a good idea? They're Hawkes!"

Carver stared at him, then spoke slowly. "…I know that."

Maker's breath, Carver wouldn't be surprised if Bethany had Templars in her fraternity as well.

Leandra's excited gasp interrupted his thoughts. "A hunting party with Duke de Montfort! We must fit you and your friends for finery, love. The de Launcet children shall find fault in only their words and not your threads or conduct."

Garrett pinked in embarrassment. "Give the de Launcets a rest, Mother. To contest ourselves against their shallow pretentiousness physically pains me."

Leandra levelled a stern gaze on him. "The de Launcets are nearly as old as the Amell line, and have been exploiting our absence from social circles ever since your grandparents passed away. No Kirkwall noble should debase themselves so! Gamlen, tell him."

The reedy man stammered while Charade muffled a snort at her father's expression. "Leandra, I never enjoyed these occasions myself. Let the boy dress as he pleases."

"Only the hunt truly interests me," Garrett smoothly lied with puppy dog eyes. "Mayhaps you should attend the feast, Mother, if social etiquette affects you so? Uncle Gamlen, it's only right you escort Mother as the next oldest Amell, and you can––" Garrett's eyes sharpened on the treasure hunter. "You can bring Charade along."

"Bring who?" Charade's eyes widened, ambushed.

The suggestion seemed to calm Leandra. "I should also bring Bethany."

Gamlen choked. "What manner of an Orlesian hunting party would justify the Circle sending her to us?"

Garrett interceded. "Bethany might not enjoy herself."

Surrounded by cloying perfumes and fake laughter? Certainly not.

"I'll extend an invitation to her anyway," Leandra decided, then flitted out of the parlour. "Orana, dear, join us downstairs! We have measurements to take!"

Anders swiftly scooped Justice to his chest and hightailed out of the estate. Varric followed him with a wink. "You jokers have fun!"

Garrett, Carver, and Fenris shared bewildered looks. "Varric Tethras!"

The gates to Château Haine sparkled with white marble and real gold, sparing a glimpse of the château's more dizzying main building. Even over the property walls, the main château seemed to capture the full noonday sun with its many windows like an endless sea. As if to celebrate the beautiful weather, blue and gold banners also gently flapped from the outer walls, and distant windchimes sang from farther in the château.

Carver would have been tempted to call the modest castle "flawless," if not for the numerous wyvern carvings adorning every corner of the property. Even the château's corbels flaunted grotesque, snarling wyvern heads. Carver squinted at the top of the outer walls to verify that they were casting a stronger shadow from the shiny main building than from the actual sun.

Varric muttered beside him. "Very Orlesian."

"The Champion of Kirkwall!" Duke Prosper de Montfort greeted Garrett, quickly surveying his company. "Thank you again for selling me that exquisite dwarven relic from the Deep Roads. I'll admit when I sent you an invitation to my hunting party, I didn't expect that you would remember who I was, much less attend."

Garrett gaily smiled. "I can't turn down a good hunt."

"I would hop to it," Prosper earnestly advised. "My other guests have already taken to the grounds. Remember, he who hunts a wyvern first has the day's honour!"

"Oh, I gave your guests a head start," Garrett demurred.

Prosper laughed heartily. "I love the confidence! I can see you already brought your own complement of hunters!"

Garrett gestured. "My mother, uncle, and cousin as well. May I introduce Lady Leandra Hawke, Gamlen Amell, and Charade Amell."

"My ladies." Prosper accepted Leandra's raised hand and kissed the back of it. He inclined his head to Gamlen and Charade, the latter whom dithered between extending her hand or wrinkling her nose at the opulent duke. "Château Haine is greater for the presence of Amells. Please, enjoy a promenade through my courtyard while the hunters and I make sport."

Leandra cheerfully accepted and grabbed Carver's arm before he could retreat. "May I also introduce my youngest son, Carver Hawke."

Prosper hesitantly returned Carver's nod. "Carver…Hawke, you say? The name Hawke and its variations frequent much of Thedas, though I must confess that only the Champion elevates the name to social circles."

Carver met his gaze. "An even match for the name Carver, I'm sure."

"…Indeed," Prosper replied.

The duke's eyes twitched to the sheathed Summer Sword by Carver's side. Prosper knew.

He knew Carver was after Rendon Howe.

"As for the rest of my 'hunters,'" Garrett cut in, "this is Varric Tethras, Sebastian Vael, and––" At Fenris and Tallis' sharp looks, Garrett amended, "––friends."

"The head of noble House Tethras," Prosper recovered, turning, "the deshyr of Kirkwall to the Dwarven Merchant's Guild. Along with the prince of Starkhaven! A delight."

Garrett coughed. "Ah, Vael is a lay brother of the Chantry."

"My faith will guide me when I return home," Sebastian added.

"My sympathies for your family," Prosper shared. "But enough of that! Wyverns await!"

Garrett's party split off from Leandra and Gamlen at the château gates for the hunting grounds. As they trod deeper into the deciduous trails of the Vimmark Mountains, they passed by Orlesian nobles cluelessly erecting traps more suited for rabbits than wyverns. One group of hunters spotted wyvern excrement and rolled in the dung to "better attract the lizards."

Tallis shushed Charade's snort. The Ben-Hassrath was a lithe elf with burgundy hair that would have fallen past her shoulders, if not for the braided ponytail she maintained it in. Paired with her delicate features, modest hunting leathers, and kittenish smile, few would make the intellectual jump and realise that "Tallis" was not a name, but a rank in the Qunari priesthood just like "Sten" was a rank in the Qunari army.

"Tallis" meant "to solve," a direct translation from Qunlat's word for assassin.

Charade's sharpened senses as an ostensible treasure hunter had caused friction between the two women in their first meeting. Charade could sniff out a liar a mile away, and Tallis was wilfully gripping tightly to her Robin Hood image. When Charade had grudgingly accepted Garrett's request to join him in grand theft, Carver half-suspected that the brunette had only done so to watch Garrett's back.

Charade had been in the precious rock business long enough to know one couldn't trust anyone else but themselves – or one's optimistic champion cousin. Carver made it a point to stay between Charade and Tallis for at least the illusion of party cohesion, though Charade often shot him looks. The young woman visibly wondered herself why Carver bothered following Garrett in his quest. Charade didn't know that Carver had his own reasons for coming to Château Haine.

The brunette side-eyed the Orlesian nobles. "Do they even know what they're doing?"

"Wyverns are an invasive species here," Tallis informed. "Duke de Montfort has made a game out of curbing their population. Given the de Montforts' closeness with Empress Celene, their favour is worth pursuing. Regardless, just ignore these nobles. We're here to quickly hunt a wyvern and finally enter the château."

The party agreed and judiciously tracked traces of wyverns through the mountainous forest. They were eager to see the inside of Prosper's property walls.

"Vael," Garrett commented while searching, "I didn't know you reached a decision regarding Starkhaven."

"One I made only recently after much prayer," Sebastian confessed. "My distant cousin, while sincere, is…uncomplicated. I fear the throne will remain in contention while Goran reigns, and I don't wish to encourage sacrifice where none need be made. I will return to Starkhaven soon, and bear the weight of the crown if necessary."

"Aw, Choir Boy," Varric reacted. "After all these years, I hate to admit that you have me beat. What is it? You like boys? Sheep? You slept with your sister?"

"What?" Sebastian chuckled.

"Nobody's this bloody clean," Varric pointed out. "Don't tell me you're leaving Kirkwall before I can figure it out."

"I will miss you," Sebastian replied, turning to Garrett and Fenris. "I regret our time together was short, but it will forever stay in my heart. I should have told you sooner."

"Is this your choice?" Garrett pressed. "Not the Grand Cleric's or mine?"

"My own," Sebastian confirmed softly.

Garrett sighed, the corners of his lips faintly curling. "I'll miss you, too."

A chittering clamour from the depths of the earth interrupted the moment, climaxing with the eruption of tiddly little humanoids nearly as green as the forest. The party repulsively batted the creatures away, responding to the knobby pests' bloody violence with their own.

Charade scrunched her face at the aftermath. "What were those things?"

"Ghasts," Tallis helpfully informed. "Underground creatures so isolated from all life that they're near mythical. The hunt might have irritated them."

Sebastian shook his head. "From the heights of the heavens to the depths of the sea, you made all creatures, O Maker."

"No wonder He left," Varric muttered.

;

A/N:

A lot has happened, but allow me to say...ghasts drive me bonkers. I'm glad they only appear in one DLC.

As a side note, I learned that the proper way to camelcase French surnames like de Montfort is to spell it as "DeMontfort." However, Dragon Age has used both no spaces ("DuPuis") and with spaces ("Du Paraquette") before. I've also already written most of the next chapter with references to the "Montfort family," and past chapters have already referred to Gascard as "du Puis," so I'm going to stick to the pattern. Woops.