Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or the Fate series. Both franchises belong to their respective creators.

Also I'll be moving my author's note to the bottom of each chapter.

Enjoy!

Chapter 4: Opportunity

Artorias

Bang! Bang!

"Wholf! Wholf! Grrrr!"

The sound of someone slamming their fist on my rented room's door woke me and Chulainn from our deep slumber and brought out my hound's ire. A quick glace out my room's window told me it was still dark out, but, seeing as I had left Lord Morvaine's feast early and fell asleep the moment I hit the inn's sheets, that didn't mean much.

I wonder what time it is?

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Grrrrr!

And who the hell keeps hitting my door!?

"Calm down bud." I ordered Chulainn.

Grinding my teeth, I got out of my rented bed and threw on a plain pair of breaches. As a precaution, I made sure that my sword was within reaching distance before I yanked the door open. The sound that accompanied the action sounded more like a growl then a, 'Who is it?' but at this point I didn't really care.

My question was answered by the freckled face of my last opponent in the tourney before my injuries disqualified me. Marius Pentaghast looked more then a little amused with my foul humor and his tilted grin made my already inflamed temper build. No longer dressed in armor, Marius was a few inches shorter than me, and with him dressed in lose Nevarran casual clothing, he didn't look nearly strong enough to be a soldier in training, much less a squire months away from being knighted, but the memory of his strength during our fight proved otherwise.

"Good evening, Squire Pentaghast." I greeted cautiously after a breath. "Can I help you with anything this late in the night?"

"In fact, there is Lord Cousland." Marius answered casually. "My father, Vinhelm Pentaghast, wished to speak with you before you depart back to Ferelden's shores. He requests a meeting, but he must leave the city first thing tomorrow mourn, so if the meet is to happen it must happen tonight."

Outwardly my expression didn't change, but inwardly I frowned. Nevarra neighbored Orlais to the south and west, just as Ferelden neighbored the empire to the south, and being the son of a Tyern I knew how often Orlais' 'Great Game' spilled into neighboring nations. I had no desire to be caught up in the machinations of an over ambitious lord, but outright declining would be rude and could have negative consequences for my homeland down the road.

"Do happen to know what it is your father wishes to discuss?" I played it safe by questioning.

"Nope." My former opponent just shrugged.

"Does it have anything to do with the Orlesians and their 'Great Game'?" I asked with a bit less diplomacy.

My rival just stared at me for a few seconds with his mouth hanging open before nearly falling off his feet laughing. He laughed so much that at some point he needed to balance himself by putting his hands on his knees to stay standing.

"Oh, Maker no!" Marius chuckled. "Father would be the last person in all of Nevarra to be involved with the Great Game. By the Fade, Father hates it when Uncle tries to talk to him about Nevarran or inner Pentaghast politics, if anyone tried to bring him into the Game he would charge them with his sword."

Finally recovering, Marius got off his knees and rubbed his, now wet, eyes. His smile was much more open now and, despite myself, I felt much less tense as well.

"Thank you, I needed that." My rival grinned. "Father really just wants to speak with you before he returns to the Order of Durandal's headquarters tomorrow."

"The Order of Durandal?" I blurted out.

"You competed in the one tourney that grants the winner a spot in the Order of Gram, yet you don't know about the other Dragon Hunter Orders?" Marius asked inscrutably.

"I've only heard of the Order of Gram." I shrug. "When I was young a man visited Castle Cousland, my home, who said he was a part of the most famous of Nevarra's Dragon Hunting Orders; The Order of Gram. My parents let him stay in the castle until the ship he was waiting for was ready to shove off, and while he stayed with us he told me stories about famous dragon slayers from the Order of Gram. Like the Order's founder; Sigurd and the fell dragon Andvaran, Nephram Pentaghast and the dragon with an army of drakes, and Sir Caliban and the final Steel Age dragon."

Again, Marius just started snorting and chuckling.

"My friend," he placated when he noticed my confusion. "All the tales, while great and mostly true, happened ages ago. Have you heard of any recent conquests of the Order of Gram?"

Racking my brain and finding nothing, I shook my head in response.

"That is because they haven't done anything noteworthy in centuries." Marius continued. "These day, the Order of Gram is nothing more than a place where rich nobles can send their heirs so that they can have the title of Dragon Hunter, but not have to experience any of the danger that actually comes with hunting dragons. The Order of Durandal on the other hand actually hunts dragons, and does a damn good job of it too."

So, a real dragon hunter wishes to speak with me? I must speak with him, this might be my final chance to become a dragon hunter!

With hope for the future burning inside of me, I stapled a determined grin on my lip and quickly tied my sheathed sword to my belt.

"Ok Marius Pentaghast, I'm interested in hearing what your father withes to speak with me about."

The Pentaghast just grinned in response before turning on his heel and striding off, leaving me to follow with my loyal mabari trotting along after me.

"So, I understand that the Order of Gram gets its name from the sword that its founder used to slay the dragon Andvaran, but where does the name Durandal come from?"

"It is the same concept." Marius shrugs. "Early in the Steel Age, famous White Knight of Nevarra killed the Lavon the Black with his sword Durandal. He refused to reveal his name to anyone, but still the king of the time made him the founder of his own Dragon Hunter Order. All the Orders are like that; Joyuese, Curtana, Chrysaor, and Arondight. All of them are named after famous swords."

Nodding at Marius' words, I noticed that we had arrived at a much higher-class inn than the one I was staying in. Small balconies accompanied the rooms on the higher floors and flowers lined all the building's windows. Hanging next to the inn's front door was a sigh gilded with bronze depicting a magnificent horse rearing on its hind legs and underneath the horse was the inn's name; The Galant Gelding, in gold letters, Common on one side and Orlesian on the other.

Up on entering the establishment the bartender, an older robust man with a thick Orlesian accent, gave us a warm smile and, having recognized Marius, told that Vinhelm was in his room on the second highest floor, and that he would send up a few pitchers of ale after us.

After thanking the man, Marius and I made our way up the building, evading drunken customers, smiling waitresses, and even loosely dressed courtesans. When we finally reached Vinhelm's room my rival knocked twice in quick succession and let himself in without waiting for a response. Upon hearing both a womanly shriek and a nearly high pitch start, that sounded more like a mouse then a man, I couldn't help but grin savagely.

Payback is a bitch.

My eyes instantly scanned the room after I got through the threshold, and made out three figures, all of which had cheeks flushed with red. Marius stood stiff in the corner left of the room's door and sported a deep red blush that made his dark freckles stand out even more. A shapely and buxom blonde-haired, blue woman, who didn't look to many years older than me, stood in the corner opposite to Marius, her face just nearly as red as my rival's. And still sitting on the inn's fine mattress was the muscular and scarred man who was supposedly Marius' father. He was wearing only a silk robe that was thankfully covering his waist and down, had dark hair with a touch of grey at the roots and hazel eyes, the right eye having an aged jagged scar marking it, and his faced was also sporting red cheeks…only his cheeks weren't red in embarrassment but, judging by the smell of the room, by alcohol.

Within the following fifteen seconds three things happened. One; the woman screamed in embarrassment. Two; I jumped out of the room and to the left of the door. Three; the women ran out of the room clutching the bed sheet to her front with one hand and what I assumed to be her clothes in the other. Four; the man I assumed to be Marius' father stood up, calling for the woman, Gabriella, to come back. Five; Marius let out a very unmanly like shriek, as I assumed Vinhelm's robes came undone.

Yes, payback is indeed a bitch.

"Just say the word when your presentable." I called into the room, my voice no doubt carrying a cocksure tone reflective of my smug attitude. "I'll just wait out here until you're ready."

"Fuck you!" The father and the son responded in unison, one voice sounding jovial while the other sounded indignant. Both merely made me snort and laugh out loud.

"Um sir?" A slightly accented voice got my attention.

Turning to the opposite direction that the blonde woman ran, my eyes fell upon the visage of a girl around my age dressed in frilly serving dress. Her hair was a light chocolate brown and done up in a plain bun that allowed full view of her delicate facial features, and her eyes reminded me of the color of caramel. She was nearly a full head and a half shorter than me making her seem younger, but her developing curves prevented anyone from mistaking her as a child.

"My father sent me up with some refreshments for Lord Vinhelm." She continued after getting my attention.

"Ah." My smile stretched a bit as possible mischief ran through my mind.

Naw, she is innocent in all this and I'm not that cruel.

"I apologize Miss." I halted her with an arm in front of the door as she tried to go around me to get into the room. "But Lord Vinhelm is not currently presentable, as his son no doubt found out when he entered a few moments ago. Marius made quite the interesting noise when his father tried to stand up without his robe correctly fashioned."

Her eyes widened slightly as she pictured my words, before suddenly bursting out in giggles. Her humor was such that she started shaking and would have dropped her silver serving tray that held three large pitchers of ale if it were not for me relieving her of her burden momentarily. When her humor died down she reclaimed her tray from me and thanked me with a smile.

That is when she noticed my attention hogging mabari, who had been begging scraps from all the serving girls we passed. Her caramel eyes went wide, and she cooed at him with a beautiful smile. Then, balancing her tray on one hand, she bent slightly and gave Chulainn a quick head rub with a promise to bring him a treat latter if he behaved.

"Is this hansom dog yours, sir?" She turned her attention to me.

"Yes, this is my partner Chulainn. He imprinted on me when I was five and has been as close to me as my brother since then."

"Chulainn?" She questioned. "What an interesting name for a dog, even a Ferelden mabari. Does it mean something?"

"It come from an Avvar legend. The Avvar warrior Chulainn was a savage and mighty warrior, but also intensely loyal and honorable. One legend even calls his 'the Guard-Dog' of the Sun-Hands clan."

"Ah, I see." She grins down at the subject of our conversation. "It fits then; he seems like noble protector type of dog, sort of like his master."

I could feel the pink in my cheeks, but my smile also stretched a bit.

"That is means a lot coming from such a fair woman such as yourself." I grinned as her face flushed. "My name is Artorias by the way."

She flushed even more when she realized that she hadn't known my name until now and vice versa.

"I'm Mariel." She responded. "I-"

"You can come on in now, Cousland boy!" The boisterous voice of Vinhelm Pentaghast interrupted Mariel. "No need to keep hiding like a shy lass."

"Maybe we can speak more latter, Mariel." I grinned sheepishly as I opened the door for her. She nodded at me with a pleasant smile in response as she placed the three pitchers of beer on the room's small bedside table before walking departing the room, my eyes noticing the swing of her hips as she left.

"Pretty girl, that one." Vinhelm remarks, eyeing both me and Mariel. "But her father runs this inn; that fat Orlesian at the bar, and he is very protective of her. He also has an unusual number of powerful contacts, both legal and illegal."

His warning was easily understood, and I nodded in his direction to show as much, before focusing my full attention on the older man who was eye my sword and posture.

"I saw your match against my son earlier today." Vinhelm began without preamble. "I was genuinely impressed and surprised to see someone more skilled, and yet younger. From what I know of Ferelden's politics; the Cousland family is an important family, second only to the royal family, yet here you are; a sixteen-year-old semi-royal who can beat my own son in a duel. Tell me young man, who trained you to be such a warrior?"

"The Highever Master-of-Arms and various of my family's worn knights taught me a lot. The rest I taught myself until my father hired a veteran knight if the Rebellion to continue my education. Sir Farris is a thorny and serious man, but he knows his way around a sword and only accepted my very best."

Marius' father grinned more and more as I described the hell that was Sir Farris' training, and when I finally finished he stared at me for a few seconds before standing up.

"Artorias." The dragon hunter spoke seriously. "I was sent to Cumberland for two reasons. The first was to watch my son compete and then bring him back with me to Nevarra City to be inducted into the Order of Durandal, as he has already shown an interest in joining. The second reason was to keep an eye out for any other potential recruits. I believe you have more than what it takes to be a dragon hunter, would you like to accompany us back to the capital and join us in hunting the most dangerous creature to roam the surface?"

I grinned savagely at the dark-haired man, my excitement causing Chulainn's ears to perk and his tail to wag.

"Vinhelm, Marius; I was sold at dragon hunting."

One Year Later

Warm blood splashed on my chest, splattering my silverite armor with red and soaking my white tunic with gore. The dryvern, a monstrous hybrid of a drake and a wyvern, let out a high-pitched scream as my silverite longsword pierced its heart, and the beast's reptilian eyes rolled back in its head as the last vestiges of life fled its body.

At the other side of the dryvern's nest Marius used his longsword to separate the head of his prey from its body. His kill was significantly cleaner then my own but took him a whole minute longer than mine, and by the look on his face he realized this as well.

"Not a single word, Artorias." Marius grouched.

I just laughed as I sheathed sword and laid my shield on the cave floor, then with flourish I drew my hunting knife. An hour latter Marius and I were riding away from the cavernous nest with two dryvern hides weighing down are travel packs.

Mountain slopes lined the right our path while rising and falling farm covered hills made up our left as we made our way back to the Hunter's Fell. Farmers tilling the field waved at our passing, while their children would sprint to the fence lining the road to get a glimpse at traveling dragon hunters. Every so often one or two of them would speak up, courageous boys asking about what prey we just slew; their eyes always lit up in awe when we replied 'dryvern', while spirited girls asked if we had saved any maidens from the beasts; their cheeks would pinken when we replied that they were maidens and they were safe from the creatures now. In the air the faint odor of fire drifted on the wind.

After a day of traveling we reached a hill on the outskirts of Hunter's Fell, the birthplace of the ruling Pentaghast family. Situated in a valley that separates two mountain ranges, Hunter's Fell would be an impossible place to settle if it wasn't for the ancient Tevinter aqueduct that carried fresh spring water down from the mountains into the city. The city's two gate, one facing north while the other facing south, were shaped into graceful arches. The special stone that made up a majority of the city structure gleamed in a metallic manor, dragon styled gargoyles lined the rooftops of the homes of the wealthy, and the Pentaghast keep in the city's center towered over everything else.

And, it was now crumbling and on fire.

The spring water that allowed for life to exist in the ancient city was now nothing more than mud on the ground outside the city due the aqueduct missing a huge chunk of its self. The gentle arches of the city fad crumbled into rubble, where the stone hadn't been melted into motel rock it reflected angry red with its metallic properties, the dragon gargoyles that were still intact bathed in noxious black fumes, and the Pentaghast keep was missing an entire wing and two stone towers.

Overhead the city was the beast responsible for the chaos. As large as the fortified keep that it destroyed, its black scales deflected arrow and magic alike. Adorning its head were a pair of curled horns and when it roared its gleaming white teeth were half the size as the men and women it ate, while its arms and legs that tore guardsmen apart sported five claws as large and sharp as great-swords.

It was a dragon unlike any seen in the past three Ages; one that's flames melted stone, steel, and flesh alike. A dragon whose fury and power could destroy one of humanity's cradles of civilization. An ancient High Dragon had awoken from its slumber only to find that the world outside its layer was not the same as it remember, and it did not like the changes at all.

The dragon's mighty wings cast a black shadow over what was left of Hunter's Fell as it roared its vitriol at the human that dared settle near it while it slept then, with a series of wing beats that filled the valley with wild winds, it disappeared over the horizon of the mountain range lining the east of the city.

"Marius." My voice broke the silent spell that had enchanted us. "Ride for Nevarra City, gather the Order, use them to precure emergency supplies, and get back here as soon as possible."

"I will." My friend's voice was hard as steel and as sharp as obsidian. "And what will you be doing in the meantime."

"Whether I like it or not, I know how to lead a people in a time of crisis, you do not." My voice was firm, and in the back of my mind I remembered my father speaking with a tone similar more than once. "I will go down there and help the survivors so that they can survive until you return with help. Without someone who knows how to organize their efforts they will turn on each other and tear themselves apart."

"I understand." Marius turned his horse around. "Stay safe my friend, we will need you for what will inevitably come after relieving the city."

"Maker's speed." I responded before my partner pushed his horse into a gallop.

What come next indeed. After the Order arrives it will finally be time to hunt. Time to slay a dragon.

As my friend made for the next closest center of civilization, I lead my stead into the hell that was once Hunter's Fell.

Sooooo...

Sorry about the wait girls and guys, but I said that this would be the chapter were stuff started happening and I hate breaking my word. Originally the second half of this chapter was the start of chapter 5 and was going to release two chapters at the same time, but then I had an epiphany and I got this out sooner than I expected.

Anyway I hope liked it and are looking forward for the next chapter, it'll be a wild ride.