A/N: Just a quick head's up. From the 4th to the 18th of October I am off my normal schedule and will be concentrating very hard on my original fic, so don't be surprised if during those two weeks there are no fanfiction posts. They will resume the following week.

There still might be, but just be ready in case there isn't. On we go!

Zevran's face was pink with cold and delight as he seemed to suddenly appear at Nike's side. She was crouching behind a thicket, peering through it at a sleepy little village.

The walls and buildings were all wood, shored up here and there with stone. Haven, or so it seemed to be called, was nestled in a small valley at the side of a little river. It was surrounded on all sides by high mountain peaks with but a few small passes through them to reach it. It looked at one time to be a mining town, but if the mines were still in operation now there was no sign they could see.

Taking Shale's warning about what had happened to its master to heart (and further spooked by the ambush of the Crows) they were doing some careful reconnoitering to assess the situation, rather than just riding into town. Shale, despite having fulfilled its bargain of showing them the village, had not yet departed. Nike hadn't dig too much into its reasons, having larger fish to fry at the moment, and honestly having another fist in any sort of fight that might happen was something she wasn't going to turn down.

Leliana, Morrigan, and Zevran- being the most practiced at watching and assessing unseen- had gone out to see if they couldn't get a handle on the situation. Zevran was the first to return.

The moment he was at her side Nike had out one of her new daggers, lifting it toward his throat as she glared at him in warning.

"You'll want to not do that again," she said.

"My apologies," he said, his smile never waning. "You know, you seem to have an excellent hand at that bow, but if I may be so bold, your draw on the dagger and the way you hold it shows less efficiency. I could have stopped and disarmed you before it cleared the sheath, had I wanted to. I am happy to teach you-"

"Report!"

"Ah, of course. We can discuss your knifework later. Unfortunately, I saw very little that would suggest this is not simply an ordinary town, however there are a couple of very curious items of note that you will likely want to consider. The first being, it is all but deserted. One of this size, it should boast a population of a couple of hundred souls. I saw three, and signs many of the houses have not been dwelled in for at least several days. Which brings me to my second item: two of the three souls I saw were arguing quite dramatically."

"Arguing?"

"Yes. A man and a woman. He was older, and looked to be some sort of official. She was very fiery, not at all cowed by his seeming authority. It grew quite heated, but he departed before it came to blows. I do think it would have. She had a pin in her hand, and seemed ready to use it."

"A pin?"

"Yes, I believe that is what such an item is called. You use it to roll out dough for pies and for baking, I believe. I have never been a baker-"

"Zevran!"

"Sorry. I do tend to ramble on a bit. The argument. Yes. I did not hear everything that was said clearly, but the woman was vehement she would not go 'into that place' and worship 'that thing' and amid some of the more colorful language- which she wielded nearly as well as the pin-I heard the words 'cult' and 'blasphemous'. That is all I can tell you."

"Then why were you grinning?"

"As I have said, I tend to be fairly light-hearted, and I do enjoy a fiery woman. I-"

As he said this last, a raven dropped down from above and transformed into Morrigan. Almost without thought, she cuffed the elf with the back of her hand. The blow did not appear to be too hard, but Zevran stopped speaking instantly.

"There are no mages in town," she said to Nike. "And, on a happier note given our usual luck, no demons. The place seems to be all but deserted."

"I agree," Leliana said, approaching with Wynne and Alistair. Sten, as usual, stood with the horses. He had never seemed to care for making himself part of the group discussion, content with just lending his sword when needed. "I did see an altercation between a merchant and what seemed to be the mayor, however."

"The merchant have a 'pin' in her hand?" Nike asked, as Zevran seemed to perk up.

"A rolling pin, yes," Leliana told her.

"Zevran heard her use the words 'cult' and 'blasphemous'," Nike said. "Among other things. We need to find out what's going on, and she seems our best bet to approach to get that information."

"I agree," Leliana said. "Her little shop is also close to the edge of the village. It would be quick and quiet."

"Then that is where we go."

Nike went back to Angry Horse, taking the small handful of coins she had left out of the saddlebag and slipping them into a pouch at her waist. She took the reins and nodded at the others.

They headed out, walking the horses to look less threatening- though Nike was unsure how much that would work in a company boasting two mages, a man in full plate armor, a qunari, and a golem.

The others were right, the village felt deserted. Only a couple of the buildings had smoke rising from their chimneys. She looked down as they approached the gate in the log wall surrounding the village, and saw not a single footprint. The sight was oddly disquieting.

Morrigan had of course flown in, and whatever way Zevran and Leliana had entered it had not been through here. However for there not to be a single footprint was troubling. It suggested no one had left, and no one had entered, at least since the last snow. Nike could not imagine the entrance to any village not being a churned mess of mud, footprints, and cart- and wagon-tracks.

Zevran pointed them at the first little hut past the gate, one of the couple that had the rising smoke. Here the mud was churned up, both on the front little path to the door and around to the side in what looked like a pig-yard that had not seen a pig in a week at least. A sign was painted on the door, so faded that it was nearly illegible. Nike tied Angry Horse to the post in the front and as the others did the same with their mounts, walked with Morrigan up to the door itself and knocked.

Something clattered inside, as if someone had dropped something. A moment later, the door was torn open.

The woman did indeed have a rolling pin in her hand- a big hefty one of polished stone, its ends worn smooth with decades of use. Whoever had been using it over those decades, it was not her alone. She looked barely older than Fergus.

She wore a short-sleeved cotton dress that at first seemed to be a poor choice for the frigid weather, but the heat that rolled out of the hut said differently. Her arms below the sleeves looked as if they should belong to a smith or a soldier. Her face was glistening with sweat just below her hair line, and the scowl she wore was a sight to behold.

"I told you that-" Her rant stopped instantly, the change in her face almost comical as it shifted from rage to surprise, to confusion, and finally to horror. "Maker! Maker, get in here! All of you. In! No! Damn!"

She started to step aside to let Morrigan and Nike in, then changed trajectory and pushed between them, hurrying to the horses and looking quickly up the road, before she thrust the rolling pin into Sten's hands with nary a glance and began to untie the mounts.

"Uh, hello?" Alistair blinked at her. "We're-"

"Help me get the horses into the barn there and out of sight!" she said, giving a quick jut of her chin at a leaning barn so old the wood had gone the grey of stone. "The rest of you, get inside the shop, hurry! Come on!"

She tossed the reins of the first mount she'd gotten untied at Alistair, then grabbed Angry Horse's tie and began to undo that knot. The grullo, of course, immediately flattened his ears and went to bite her.

She didn't spare a single glance at him, only planted her hand firmly on his nose and shoved him back with a quick 'tsss!' that made the gelding blink in shock. A second later his reins were loose and she was tossing those at Alistair as well.

Unsure what else to do, Alistair gave Nike a bit of a shrug and helped the woman lead the mounts around toward the barn. Nike shook her head, then gestured at the others. "Come on then. You heard her. Inside. It's warm in here anyway."

They shuffled in, taking care to stamp their boots and scuff off the worst of the mud on the lintel. Shale was the last in, the golem hanging warily just outside the door, before ducking its head and shuffling in.

The shop was large and cozy, with stacks of dried goods, bolts of cloth and various other sundries littered neatly about the place. Past a counter, they could see a large back room with its roaring fireplace past a scrap of hanging cloth that had been shunted aside and bound around a nail. The smell of roasting meat and baking bread was so thick Nike could almost taste them.

Almost immediately after the golem, Alistair came in, the merchant hard on his heels and all but shoving him the last step or two. She turned and swung down the large bolt on the door, before letting out a breath.

"They've killed three knights," she said by way of introduction, then fixed Alistair with a hard look. "Why do you lot keep coming?"

"I-I'm not a knight," he said. "I'm a Warden-"

"You'll be just as dead," she said, and snatched her pin back from Sten as if he had insulted her by having it. "Why are you here? Why do you outsiders keep coming?"

"Alistair has said," Nike told her, as the stranger headed across the room and to the counter. "We're Wardens. We're looking for-"

"The Urn of Sacred Ashes," she said, and dropped the pin down on the counter, grabbing a rag and wringing it through her hands to clean them. She looked at Nike as if she'd said something insulting. "Why?"

"Arl Eamon-" Alistair began, but Nike held up her hand, going over to the counter and regarding the woman.

"First, I'll have your name. Mine is Nike Cousland."

"Hannah. Hannah Osling. Welcome to Haven. Everyone here save myself and perhaps the Fishers' eleven year old boy, will try and kill you. You're going to want to go right back out again, if you know what's good for you."

"Why? Why will they try and kill us?" Nike asked.

Hannah regarded her, then looked at the others for a moment, before letting out a breath. "Outsiders are not allowed here in Haven," she said. "Haven't been since I can remember. My grandmother was born here. My parents. Outsiders haven't been allowed since they could remember, either. Haven guards the only way to the Temple of Andraste. Surely you wouldn't be here looking for the Urn if you didn't know that?"

"The Temple is here?" Leliana asked, moving closer with surprise on her face. "Have you seen it?"

"Have I seen the Temple? Oh yes! Have I been inside? Maker no. They'll slit your throat for that. They'll slit it if they even think you went inside."

"Who? And why?"

"The mayor," she said. "The guards. The damned bloody cult, that's who."

"Cult?"

"Yes. My family never wanted any part of it, joining that stupid cult, but pretty much everyone else in town has. We never got driven out because we're the only merchants and bakers and tailors in the place. We're the only ones that have leave to…well, leave. And we can only do that every three months. We make the trip down the mountains, do our trading, and bring everything back here for the village. We keep our mouths shut and in return, they don't gut us in the night."

"And you simply allow this?" Morrigan asked.

"Do you want me to lay out all the means and reasons and history of my family and this town until that hairy ass-crack of a mayor comes back and burns this store down with us in it? I've got some ale if so. In the meantime, they've got three knights nailed to the pass-posts leading up to the Temple just for showing up and asking questions. And they did the nailing as a final remark after a very long discussion, if you understand my meaning. They'd be more than happy to have the same discussion with you lot."

"We appreciate your concern for us," Leliana said gently. "And your frustration. But we do need to know more. What is the purpose of this cult?"

"What purpose does any cult have, except to be all culty?" Hannah asked, then let out another short, sharp breath. "Look. I'm sorry, but you lot here puts my life at risk as well as yours. I'm not entirely sure how the cult started. My Dad had his theories, rest him. From what I understand of the stories, Haven was founded when the ashes of Andraste were first brought here. Soldiers and Andraste's faithful lived here to help and host pilgrims coming to the site and to prevent theft or desecration. Over time, what 'theft and desecration' meant became kind of…skewed. Eventually they didn't let anyone in to the Temple at all. Then they stopped letting people into town too. Then they stopped even the townsfolk from going in the Temple except those 'appointed to that holy duty'. Nonsense and pig shit."

"And now?" Nike asked.

"Now they're so paranoid they slit the throats of anyone who comes into Haven for any reason. Lost in the mountains, starving and freezing? They don't care, you're dead. Come actually asking about the Urn or the Temple or merely mention the word Andraste? You're tortured and then dead. And that was before Andraste was 'reborn'."

Here she made two hooks of her fingers, rolling her eyes as she said it. Leliana and Alistair exchanged looks, and Nike lifted her brows. "Reborn? I don't understand."

"Nearly the entire village has now moved into the Temple itself. Those the guard didn't kill anyway, on the mayor's orders. He wants me to move in as well but I've at least had the argument for the past few weeks that I need to stay here to keep making the bread and putting up stores, and warn them if any more knights come in asking questions. Now the old goat-fucking bastard says I've had enough time. He wants me to pack up the store and bring all the supplies into the Temple so they can seal it up entirely. If I don't get packed up and there by this evening, it's going to be me nailed up along with those knights on the pass-posts.

"You see, they think Andraste has been reborn. That she's living in that Temple right now, but is prevented from resuming her full power and her true form by a tie to her previous mortal remains. I don't fancy being nailed up on any kind of post, and I really don't fancy being eaten by Andraste, so I am packing up all right. Packing up and getting the hell out of this place, and I strongly suggest you do the same."

"Eaten by Andraste?" Nike asked, stunned. "Even if they think she was reborn, how would you be eaten by her?"

"Because, those stone-brained lickspittling mule-kicked pillocks think that Andraste has reincarnated as a damned high dragon, that's why!"