Chapter 11: Complications

Kallian threw the wood into the fire violently, still glaring at the other elf. Alistair jumped and looked up from carving the figurine in his hand. Even in the thick darkness, Kallian could see the wide smile Zevran was flashing Leliana. And what infuriated her the most was that the bard was playing right along with him. Her laughter travelled across the whole camp. Kallian grimaced as she watched the bard smile coyly at him, lapping up his flattery.

Fuming, the elf sat down next to Alistair. She took out her sword and whetstone, determined to tear her focus away from the laughing pair.

"What's wrong?" asked the other Warden in concern. "Did Zevran say something to you?"

Kallian snorted. If only he knew…

"He's said lots of things to me. I don't care."

"If he's said something lewd to you-" said Alistair, narrowing his eyes and starting to stand.

She stopped the sharpening and grabbed his arm, pulling him down.

"I told you it's nothing," she growled. The last thing she wanted to do was make a scene for no reason. "Just… he gets on my nerves."

Her friend sat down reluctantly, still eyeing the assassin darkly. "Well, if he tries to pull something on you, let me know."

Kallian sighed and returned to scraping the stone along her blade loudly. "That won't happen. Trust me."

Alistair shook his head insistently. "He's an assassin… and a womanizer. There's no telling what he'll do."

"I'll kill him before he does."

The other Warden finally laughed. "I suppose I'm worrying too much."

"I can handle myself, Alistair," she said, smirking despite herself.

"I don't doubt that," he said with another chuckle. Then he squinted at what she was doing. "Here," he said, taking the whetstone from her. "Give me that- you're going to overdo it at this rate."

To be honest, she wasn't really putting any thought into it- her only aim was to block out the flirting going on a few yards away.

"I can do it, Ali-"

But he had already taken the sword from her and was dragging the whetstone along it carefully. Kallian grimaced but let him do it. There was another melodic laugh from the left. She ground her teeth together, resisting the urge to turn her rigid neck. Alistair tutted and paused the sharpening.

"We need to get you a new sword. This is becoming rusty and weak."

The elf nodded, thankful for the distraction. "I couldn't find any with the right balance."

"Well," said Alistair, using the whetstone again. "We could request a specific design to Owen when we return to Redcliffe."

"That's going to take a while," said Kallian, frowning doubtfully.

He nodded. "Yes, it will. But it's better than going into battle with a sword unsuited for you."

"True…"

"Besides, they have mages that will speed up the process."

"I hope they do- we need to leave for Orzammar soon."

"Yeah," agreed Alistair, shaking his head. "I didn't expect to find Redcliffe in such a mess."

"Maker take me if we have more complications at our next destination," muttered Kallian.

"The dwarves can be a stubborn people, but they will answer to the Wardens. Don't worry about that."

The elf sighed and nodded, taking up a stick and drawing on the ground absent mindedly. For a while, both of them sat there with their respective tasks. Alistair finally finished the sharpening and held the sword up to the firelight. He made a sound of satisfaction and smiled, handing it to her. She took it.

"Thanks."

"No problem," he said cheerfully. "It was nothing."

The blade was still in a pitiful condition but she supposed it would do. At least it was sharp enough now. As she turned the blade over in her hand, Alistair laughed.

"Wow, did you draw that?" he asked, pointing to the ground.

Kallian glanced down. "Mm."

"That's pretty good," said Alistair, coming closer to examine it. He laughed again. "Looks exactly like Talon. I feel like he could jump out at us right now."

An involuntary chuckle escaped her lips. "Thanks." Then her gaze settled on the figurine he was working on. "What's that?"

"Oh, this?" he said, picking it up. She took it from him and laughed.

"What the hell?" she said, grinning.

Alistair shrugged and looked shy. "I was going to give it to you later but…"

Kallian examined it from different angles, smirking. "Thanks. But… I don't really look like this, do I? My ears aren't this pointy…"

He looked embarrassed. "Are they too pointy? I knew it! I could carve it down, make it better-"

"Only kidding, Alistair," she said, punching his arm.

"Oh," he said, blushing.

"It's good, Alistair. You have talent."

The other Warden beamed at this.

Kallian grinned and placed it next to her, but paused as a disturbing thought occurred to her. She had accepted it without question, assuming it was just a friendly gift. But… did friends usually give each other these things?

The elf shook herself, rolling her eyes. She was reading too much into it.

"What's your next project?"

Alistair cocked his head, thinking. "Hmm… I was thinking…" He leaned in to whisper. "Maybe the witch."

Kallian chuckled. "It's not going to be flattering, is it?"

"Darn right," he said with a wicked smile.

"Tell me when you finish it. I want to see her expression," said Kallian, grinning.

"You'll be the first," promised Alistair.

The elf laughed.

"Ohh," said Alistair after a moment's thought. "Do you think she would suit googly eyes?"

"Yeah, she could do without the glare."

"And I think I'll replace that staff with a broomstick."

The two snickered and grinned stupidly as they discussed ideas for the caricature. Kallian wiped the tears from her eyes and listened to Alistair's dry jokes, feeling her previous foul mood dissipate. The human wasn't Soris, but it was times like this when she needed a good laugh. They were both so absorbed in the conversation that they didn't notice the person joining them by the fire.

"What are you two laughing about?"

The grin slipped from Kallian's face.

"Ohh, I don't know if I should tell you," said Alistair with a smile.

Leliana raised an eyebrow curiously, smiling. "A secret, is it?"

He nodded. "Well, if you keep it from Morrigan…"

"Oh," said the bard, eyes glinting wickedly. "I get it," she said, lowering herself next to Kallian.

The elf caught a whiff of Andraste's Grace and stiffened.

"I've got a few more tricks up my sleeve," said Alistair eagerly. "But this will be the first."

Leliana laughed but the expression quickly vanished when her hand contacted something in the dark. "What's this?"

Kallian's eyes widened when she saw the figurine in the bard's hands.

Leliana held it up to the light, blinking at the wooden statuette of Kallian. In the fire's glow it looked almost ethereal, accentuating her hair and form so much it filled her with embarrassment. Maker… now that she examined it again, Alistair had put a lot of effort into it.

"It looks very much like… Kallian," the bard said in surprise.

"Um…" said Alistair uncomfortably. "That's because it is."

"Oh?" asked Leliana in a strangely quiet voice. "Did you make it, Alistair?"

"Well," he started, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's been a bit gloomy lately so…"

The bard stared at the carving, expression unreadable. Kallian held out her hand and the woman placed it back in her hand.

"And you thought this would cheer her up?"

Alistair nodded, smiling awkwardly. "Exactly."

Kallian squirmed uncomfortably. Maker, what was this atmosphere?

"How… thoughtful of you."

Alistair grinned. "It was, wasn't it?"

"Do you make these figurines often?"

"Yep," said Alistair.

"What have you made so far?" asked the bard, warming her hands over the fire.

"Hmm… I've made quite a few, actually. Usually they're dragons, rams, druffalos... I made one of Andraste, a Templar and now Kallian."

"I see."

"Do you want one?"

"Thank you for the offer, but that's alright," said the bard, smiling.

Kallian couldn't take it anymore. The two had left no room for her to join in and something about this left her writhing inside. She cleared her throat. "So. What were you saying before, Alistair?"

A cheeky grin spread on Alistair's face, reminding her painfully of Soris as he dove into an enthusiastic explanation of his plans for revenge. Kallian tried to listen but the fragrance wafting to her was driving her crazy.

Maker, I'm starting to regret giving her the flower…

And to make it worse, Leliana was so close to her she could feel the heat of her body. Kallian slowly and subtly inched away from her. Every muscle tensed, charging up for a quick escape.

"Kallian?"

Alistair was looking at her funny.

Kallian's head snapped up, eyes focussing. "Yeah?"

"You alright? You don't look too good."

The elf bit the inside of her cheek. Actually, this might be a good chance…

"Yeah," she said quickly. "I've got a bit of a headache."

Leliana frowned. "It could be the cold. There's been more than one person coming down with the fever lately."

The elf jumped when the sister placed a cool hand on her forehead.

"Hmm. You don't seem to have a temperature."

"Whatever it is," said Alistair. "You should go to sleep early."

Kallian stood up, nodding. She didn't look at Leliana before practically fleeing to her tent. The elf gritted her teeth, hating herself. In the darkness of the night, she could almost feel eyes watching her- just as they had back in the Fade.

Shit, she thought helplessly. Shit, shit, shit.

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It was bitingly cold on the mountains, with bare rocks and dark pines decorating its rugged slopes. Their boots crunched on the occasional snow coating the ground. Kallian scanned the village, which was a rough assortment of houses, the designs careless and basic. A fog had settled over the area, lending an eerie, ghostly atmosphere.

There was no sound. Not one person could be seen, despite it being early in the day.

"This place is very unsettling," said Zevran, chuckling nervously.

Alistair frowned and shook his head. "I wonder why no one's here. I don't like the feeling of this."

"Well we have to find someone," said Kallian. "Split up and search the area. Meet back here when you've found something."

The group dispersed to explore the buildings and she turned to the nearest house with Talon. To her surprise, the door was unlocked. It turned out to be unoccupied, but the furniture, the decorations and possessions were still there. She moved on to the next house and found it much the same- clean with signs of habitation. As she stepped out of the building, she saw Zevran step out of another.

"Any luck?"

He shook his head. "Quite empty. All their things still remain, but no owner."

"Same here."

The two approached a house that stood out from the rest. It was larger and seemed to her like some sort of townhouse. She gripped the handle and tried to twist it.

"Locked," she said, sighing.

"Ah, but you forget that I am an assassin," said Zevran. "Allow me."

Kallian raised an eyebrow and stepped aside to watch him pick the lock. After a few seconds of "hm"'s and "ah"'s, there was a satisfying click. The other elf opened the door and gave her a small bow and a flourish.

"After you," he said with a wide smile, flashing his teeth.

Kallian fixed her eyes on him, unimpressed. Recruiting him had been one thing, trusting him was another. "I think you should go first. You never know when a knife will strike from behind."

Zevran put a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. "Oh, you wound me. But I suppose I would rather take the sharp words of a lovely woman than none."

The Warden jerked her head in the direction of the house. He walked in and she joined him inside. In the centre there was a long table- most likely used for meetings. A large fireplace was built into the wall in the corner, the burnt wood and ashes perhaps a week old. There were stairs leading up to the next floor. Kallian cast her eyes about. A chest, a shelf, chairs… Talon started to sniff at something leaning against the wall.

"My, this is… interesting."

It was an altar with a bronze lamp on top, the surface stained with old, dried blood. Another pool of crimson dripped down the edges, looking more recent than the dark stains. The two exchanged glances and examined it once more before checking the rest of the room.

Upstairs there was nothing significant either.

They came downstairs again and she grimaced at the sight of the altar. Kallian shuddered and averted her gaze.

"So, what does it take to become an assassin?" she asked, trying not to think about the altar.

"Ah, interested, are you?" said Zevran in a suggestive tone.

"I'm interested in how they turned a young, innocent elf into such a lecherous assassin."

Zevran laughed. "Very well… despite what the Crows would have you believe- that it is a long process that involves years of training, the truth is that all it requires is a desire to kill people for a living."

"I would never have guessed."

"Sarcasm does not become you, my dear Warden. A voice such as yours should sing the melodies of-"

"Spare me the flattery."

"I must confess this is not quite what I am used to… the ladies usually delight at such admiration."

"In Antiva, you mean."

"Well-"

"If you think that will impress women, think again." She eyed him with disgust. "I can't believe we're of the same race."

"Such venomous words, my lady," tutted Zevran, unaffected. "But you must understand… it is a hard life as an assassin. A man has his needs… and he must be skilled in the art of wooing to enjoy what few... pleasures are offered."

Kallian bristled and her dagger was at his throat before he could respond.

"Pleasures?"

The assassin didn't flinch. "I see I have offended you."

"A woman's body is not for your pleasure," she spat. "It should be respected. Honoured."

"Of course," insisted the other elf, chuckling. "I believe the same as you."

"Then show some decency," she said, glaring at him for a moment before retracting the blade.

He rubbed his throat. "My apologies, boss."

Kallian didn't reply, brushing past him in a dark mood. Talking about these things had brought back memories she didn't want to see again. Human or elf, it didn't matter. It filled her with nausea and loathing. She could almost feel the blood of that night on her hands, the foreboding chill of the room and the horror at seeing Shianni's bloodless face…

Zevran chuckled, following her. "But I do wonder… is it charm you prefer? Or is it perhaps a more stoic, grounded man you desire?"

Kallian ignored him as she strode toward the rendezvous point.

"An elf, no? Or… a human?" he asked, walking backwards to see her face.

A wide grin spread when he saw her blush. "Ah, I have guessed correctly!"

"Shut up and follow."

But Zevran was delighted, determined to question her. "Ah, that blush. It speaks of a new love, does it not? Let me guess- someone from our dear companions?"

Kallian glared at him. "Do you have nothing better to do?"

"Come, tell me."

Kallian reached out and grabbed the front of his armour. "Shut. Up," she hissed, and let him go.

"Oh, such a fiery temper!" he said, pretending to quail. "But you should know- I will find out sooner or later."

The Warden gritted her teeth. "Maybe I should have killed you."

"Ah, but you would not have such a delightful companion," said the elf smoothly. "In fact, I could help you in your… romantic endeavours."

"I don't want your help."

"So you do admit to fancying someone."

"I never said that."

"You said you didn't want my help, not that you didn't need it."

"I don't want it because I don't need it."

"Suit yourself," said Zevran, chuckling. "If you wish to remain in denial."

"I'm not-"

"Find anything?" came Alistair's voice.

Kallian turned to him and nodded. "But we'll talk when everyone comes back."

After a few minutes, the group reconvened but their searches were as unyielding as hers. When Zevran mentioned the altar, their responses mirrored her own.

"I hope it wasn't…" said Leliana, her voice trailing off. Everyone knew what she meant.

"Used for food preparation, perhaps?" suggested Alistair.

Kallian shook her head. "I don't think meat bleeds that much."

He shrugged. "Just trying to be optimistic. The other explanation is slightly more disturbing."

Wynne shook her head, eyes grave. "I have a feeling this village is not what it seems. We must be-"

"Get them!"

The group whirled around to meet the enemies. Kallian drew her sword and charged, directing the mages to freeze the archers. They weren't strong people- commoners by the look of their clothes. But there were around six or seven of them and they were persistent.

Kallian dodged the vicious swipe of one man and slit his throat. A woman attacked her, holding a huge chopping knife in her hand. The Warden blocked the strike and disarmed her. To her surprise, she kicked out at Kallian and caught her on the thigh. The elf grunted and stumbled.

The woman picked up her knife again, shouting. There was a blur as Zevran jumped in to intercept her. He delivered quick slashes- one at her throat, then her chest and finally her abdomen.

"Artfully done," commented Kallian, eyeing his handiwork.

The assassin gave her a bow and a smile. "As I said before, I am at your service."

Kallian snorted and looked around. Their attackers were all dead.

"Let's keep moving," she said to the group, gazing at the path leading up.

When they reached the top of the slope, more enemies appeared. This time, however, they wore roughly spun robes and armour. One of them held a staff and fired a burst of magic at her. Kallian hit the ground and rolled.

"A mage!" she shouted.

Morrigan threw a massive stone fist at the man, bowling him over.

The rest of them wielded long daggers and wicked looking axes. Kallian made a stab at the armoured man. He batted her sword away and kicked her. Kallian stumbled but regained her balance to slash at the exposed skin at his neck. Blood fountained out from the severed vessels. Together, the warriors overwhelmed the reavers while Morrigan and Wynne took out the mage. It ended quickly, but only because they had the upper hand in numbers.

She looked down at the corpses. "They were stronger than the others."

"I agree," said Wynne. "I wonder who they were."

"From their clothes, 'tis most likely some kind of cult," conjectured Morrigan, eying them distastefully.

A cult? Thought Kallian, shaking her head. This whole place was just bizarre.

She led the group into the sole house on the slope, which was completely empty. There was no furniture or anything to give them a clue.

"Well, nothing here…" said Alistair. He shuddered. "Come on, let's get out of here. This place is giving me the creeps."

"Wait a minute," said Kallian, frowning. She walked over to the far corner of the room, the aged wooden plank creaking beneath her boots. The small opening had been almost invisible, covered by the wall. But drawing near, it was clear there were steps leading down to a cellar. When she got there, Kallian froze, staring down.

There was an armoured body, mangled and mutilated on the floor. Dark blood stained the wooden planks and was splattered everywhere. She could see sliced off fingers and the acute angle of his snapped forearm. His face was covered by the helm and she had no desire to lift it and see.

Alistair came up behind her. She heard him suck in his breath.

"Maker! This man is from Redcliffe- he's one of the Arl's knights!"

Kallian felt a foreboding weight bear down on her but ignored it as she descended the stairs. She opened the door and was met by a horrible blast of rotting flesh. After glimpsing a pile of dismembered bodies, she gagged and slammed the door shut.

"What is it?" asked Leliana. "What did you see?"

"The rest of the knights," said Kallian, trying not to breathe through her nose.

Alistair exchanged dark looks with Wynne.

"There's something going on here. And we're getting to the bottom of it."