Despite the obvious weight of her armor and the engraved greatsword she wielded, Cassandra still managed to pursue this mad elf closely. "In the Maker's name, I demand that you surrender!"

"The Maker was a mage!" Myrris shouted to her as he continued to deftly dodge the flaming metal. "And so was Andraste!"

"Blasphemer!" Cassandra brought her sword down with all her might. But still all she managed to do was imbed the weapon in the pavement. "Flames!"

Myrris cackled maniacally as he continued his escape. "Ha! I'm free!"

In an attempt to lose the totally not-his-thedas's-seeker, he began making erratic twists and turns on every and any street he could. After a minute or two he thought he may have actually lost her. He slowed to a casual walk. "Man," He muttered aloud between panted breaths. "This body is totally out of shape. Thanks, Falon'Dick."

He began to take a good look at his surroundings. He gathered that this was supposedly Lothering. Which was weird, given all of the modern-like buildings. "Did that mirror take me through time or some shit? Nah. Has to be a separate reality...okay, okay, okay…so Curly is mean, Seeker is…like she's p-m-s-ing more than usual…Meridia—wait, no—Meredith is still alive…who else…ooh, ooh, ooh! I saw Fenris with some…hobo? Gonna have to figure that one out—and…oh…shit…"

As he rounded the corner of a dingy, brick building, he came nearly face-to-face with a small group of roaming hurlocks. They turned to seek out the noise he had made instantaneously, but instead of charging at him they seemed almost confused by him. "Oh…right…the alarms…the alarms that came from the wall…the alarms that were probably for the darkspawn…right…"

They slowly neared toward him as he spoke. It was as if looking at moths drawn to a flame. You know, large, humanoid, fucked up monster moths…to an elven idiot.

Myrris let out a small, nervous laugh and began backing up. "Hey, guys, about that. So, I just remembered I had a strict resolution not to kill off this body yet today." He backed into the larger street that he had just come from. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw large flashes of blue and orange. "So, yeah, I'm gonna have to…" Having successfully led the hurlocks so far, he decided to chance a look at the cause of all that chaos over there.

He recognized the totally-not-Cassandra, but the other…woman? Is that a fucking avvar?

Cassandra cursed herself silently every time her sword missed the apostate. She shouldn't have expended so much energy trying to capture that damnable elf. She was already in need of a real rest when she spotted this woman—a blatant criminal wielding magic out in the open. It didn't matter if she intended to fight the darkspawn or not, magic could not be tolerated. It was Chantry law after all. With heaving breaths, she managed to make one final demand. "Surrender…or die!"

Salem sneered, as she conjured another icy spell in her hand. They had yet to pierce through the seeker's armor, but it was managing to slow her down. "Manaveris Hakkon!"

The small spell in her hand suddenly burst outwards from her in all directions. It forced Cassandra to stagger back a step or two. Their surrounding area was coated with snow and ice, a freezing wind now encircled Salem as she slowly stepped towards the disoriented seeker again.

Cassandra regained herself just in time to send a smite to her opponent. Salem stopped in her tracks, gasping for a short moment. The ice and snow vanished instantly. Cassandra smirked as she planted her feet down on the dry ground once again. But just when she thought she had finally gained the upper hand, Salem began laughing darkly.

The avvar woman unclasped her cloak, letting it fall to the pavement unceremoniously. "You lowlanders never learn." She slowly forced Cassandra to mirror her movements as she attempted to encircle her. The way this apostate looked at her was completely unnerving. At that moment she wasn't sure that the darkspawn were any worse than these avvars. When this woman looked at her, all Cassandra saw was evil in her glowing blue eyes—Maker, she thought, I hope she's not a Warden.

"I am an auger of Red-Lion, not a mage trapped in your prisons. My magic is a gift…" Salem said rather calmly as she cracked her knuckles through her fingerless leather gloves and brought her fists up to eye level. "Not a crutch."

Cassandra made a disgusted noise at her. What could she possibly hope to do with her bare hands? The seeker gripped her greatsword and charged at her. Salem lowered herself as Cassandra neared her again. Waiting for the perfect moment, she dodged to the side just enough to give her the access she needed to plant a precise kick to the back of Cassandra's knee.

The move shocked the seeker. It made her hesitate for just a second. But a second was all Salem needed to rip Cassandra's knife from her belt and dig it into her skin. Salem gripped the seeker's throat in her hand for added emphasis. "What was that about surrender, lowlander?"

Cassandra grunted in disgust again. But before she could open her mouth to say anything, both women were drawn to the shrill screaming coming from further down the street. Cassandra recognized that damned elf immediately, but at the moment it appeared they both had bigger problems. He was currently being chased by perhaps half a dozen hurlocks…and sprinting right for them.

This all seemed to be a part of the mad elf's plan, if there even was one. He screamed at them as he approached. "Save me warrior goddess!"

"Keep your mouth covered, Lowlander." Salem warned as she shoved Cassandra away. "I suggest you defend yourself."

Cassandra scrambled back to her feet as quickly as the plate armor would allow. The elf and his hurlock attackers were closing in fast. She looked to Salem. The avvar held her own knife like she was trained to. The engraved silver metal looked awkward on such a barbarian. A fleeting thought crossed Cassandra's mind that she'd likely tainted it already. Salem's eyes were fixed upon the incoming threat. It would have been so easy to strike at the avvar now…and for a moment she nearly did. But no, that was not her way. She turned her own gaze to the advancing darkspawn and readied her greatsword. I might die today, but I'll die content with the knowledge that I've lived as a better person than those that came before me.

"May the Maker guide us both, apostate." Cassandra offered in the most cordial tone she could manage.

Salem scoffed. "Hakkon guides me today, Lowlander."

The two women shared an understanding look before they leapt into battle once again.

"Ah! Fenhedis!" Fenris howled as the bone finally snapped back into place. His voice echoed hollowly through their metallic safe haven. He clenched his fists so tightly he thought he might break his own hands.

Solona winced, despite not actually feeling the pain herself. "Would it help you to know that was the worst part?"

Fenris opened his eyes again only to glare at her. "What do you think, mage?"

From the couch, Alistair shot him a glare of his own. Dorian likely would have too, if he hadn't have passed out momentarily in the armchair on the opposite side of the room. Ayden didn't seem to be paying too much attention to anything the boring adults were doing. Instead, he seemed content to fiddle with the dusty old buttons on the ancient keyboard. Every once in a while, he would find some command that adjusted the cameras in some way, which continued to peak his interest.

Solona rolled her eyes. "You know, I'm really starting to regret helping you."

The pain had dulled a bit in the last couple of moments, making his temperament just a little friendlier. He sighed heavily as he ran his hands over his face. "I apologize, that was…undeserving. Your assistance is appreciated."

She scoffed. "Well, I should certainly hope so. I don't see you healing any better without it."

"She's right on that one." Dorian muttered in his half-asleep state. "Left in my care, you'd have likely grown an unwanted appendage by now."

"Point being," Solona said with a small smirk. "I understand there isn't much I can do for the pain and I'm sorry about that. But I am trying to use my magic to help you."

Fenris looked down at the red ribbon again before he responded. "Forgive me, I am…I've had…troubles with mages before. I should have learned by now that your magic doesn't make you evil."

Dorian scoffed. "Well, I should certainly hope so. Seeing as how you feel in love with a mage, after all."

Solona's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You…? Really? How? You flinch even at a simple healing spell."

A smile cracked across Fenris's face involuntarily. "She is…indescribable. Nothing I could say would do her justice…her magic feels…safe."

Solona smiled warmly as she slowly began mending the cuts on his skin; Couldn't risk an infection in this place. "And how does mine feel?"

"In a word?" Fenris chuckled. "Itchy."

Alistair scoffed softly. Under his breath, he mutters just loud enough for Solona to catch wind of it. "Funny word for a liar."

She clearly notices it, but she doesn't acknowledge it. Instead, she focuses on mending the remaining fracture in Fenris's leg. "So, what's her name?"

"Depends on who you ask." Fenris said with a smirk. "Everyone seems to call her something different."

"What do you call her?"

"Amatus." He ran his fingers over the ribbon again. For a moment he nearly lost himself to another fond memory.

Solona gave him a quick, questioning look before returning her attention to his leg once again. I'll have to stop soon, she thought. After mending Fenris's leg and healing herself from earlier, she was definitely starting to feel that familiar fatigue. "Tevene, isn't it? You're from the Imperial Marches, I take it?"

The anger seemed to slowly slip back into his voice once again. "No…not anymore…We've been exiled."

"Is your wife there?" Solona asked, picking up quickly that his demeanor brightened when he spoke of this indescribable woman.

Fenris nervously laughed. His cheeks even flushed a bit more. Not that anyone was going to mention that. "She's not my wife. I, um, we couldn't…Ashley is an Altus, and well, I'm…"

"Does she love you?"

"She…" Fenris's mind flooded with all the things she'd done for him, both major and minor. There was so much. Far too many to count. It wasn't just the words. There was no denying it, ever. "Forever and Always."

Solona's smile was different now, almost a little distant. There seemed to be a sense of longing to it. "Then I'm sure she doesn't care about the differences in your status."

Alistair shot a look at her. He hated it, but there was that voice screaming at him in his head that was hoping she was speaking from personal experience. She'd said that same thing to him once, years ago. Get it out of your head, Alistair, she had a kid. She clearly moved on.

"So," Solona continued. "Which city were you from?"

"Kirkwall." Fenris replied with a sneer.

Solona cocked her head to the side. "What's Ashley's surname?"

Despite his position, Fenris still somehow managed to instantly look imposing. He seemed to take the question as some kind of threat. And now that the bone was back in place, he could likely attack her if he was truly inclined. Not that he'd get very far without it being properly healed though.

"I have family in Kirkwall." Solona explained calmly, as she slowly inched away from him. "I have a cousin named Ashley that lives there. She's from the Amell family, but I believe they go by their father's name. Do you know the Hawkes?"

Fenris eyed her suspiciously but didn't speak. Dorian rose from his nap to sleepily question her with a chuckle in his raspy voice. "You're telling us…that Ashley Hawke is your cousin?"

Alistair couldn't have hidden his reaction if he tried. "Oh, Maker. What are the odds? The Knight-Commander is definitely gonna have my head now."

"Well, given your shock," Solona continued, trying to maintain a modicum of cordiality. "I hope you're friends of hers."

"Friends." Dorian snickered. "Who do you think gave him the ribbon?"

Solona raised an eyebrow at her reluctant patient. "Well, that's…certainly…unexpected."

The anger returned to Fenris quickly. "Wouldn't have expected her with a slave, would you? Or is it the ears that strike your prejudice?"

Alistair got defensive instantly. "Hey!" He sat up and pointed towards Fenris, much like how a parent would do to a misbehaving child. "Don't you speak to her that way!"

"It's alright, Alistair." She gave him a thankful smile. He returned it for a moment, but his gaze shot down to the magic in her hands and his smile faded considerably. Solona turned back to Fenris with a sigh. "I only meant that...Well, last we spoke, she seemed to have a different, um, type. Not that it seemed to be working for her."

Fenris seemed confused, but Dorian definitely wasn't. "Ooh, by all means, tell us about the evil ex-flame. I have been dreadfully deprived of gossip lately."

Solona shared a worried look with Alistair. Neither said anything for a moment. When Solona looked back to Fenris he was staring intently at her. There was a sort of anger in his expression but it didn't seem to be directed at her this time. She sighed heavily. "If she didn't say anything, I'm not sure it's my place to tell."

The humor dropped right out of Dorian's voice. He leaned forward in his seat. "Was it that bad?"

Solona shrugged. "Well, she certainly left him for a reason…"

"Tell us." Fenris said simply.

Alistair cleared his throat. "Not to play Templar's advocate here, but I might point out that perhaps there's a bigger problem to deal with first. Like, oh, I don't know, the darkspawn?"

"Bite your tongue, mage killer." Fenris eyed him as he pulled his tattered pant leg to cover his injured leg now that Solona seemed to be done healing him for the moment.

Alistair rolled his eyes and sank back down on the couch, muttering under his breath once again. "Sure, sure, I'm the bad guy. Take it out on me. Not like I was the one trying to save us all but that's fine…"

"I'll make you a deal, Fenris." Solona spoke up with a sudden snappiness to her voice. "I'll tell you what happened to Ashley. And in return, you help Alistair and I fight our way out of the city."

Dorian scoffed indignantly. "And where do I fit in this arrangement? Pretty little mage-flower?"

"You? No, you're far too filthy at present to be the pretty one." Solona smirked. "But I'm willing to bet you're a clever man. You know it will take more than your spells alone to get passed this horde."

"Hmm, fair enough, I suppose. Brutal. But fair." Dorian nudged Fenris's shoulder with his foot. "She reminds me of Hawke."

Solona extended her hand to Fenris, who shook it firmly without hesitation this time. "We've a deal, then."