"There's not much room in the barracks, but there's no where I'd rather be." Aveline stated as we ran down the stairs on our way to Captain Jevan's office.

"Really? No where? What about Gamlen's Grody Hovel?" I asked.

"There's Jevan's office. Wait here while I go explain the situation." Aveline sighed.

I watched her walk through the door, closing it behind her as I leaned against the wall next to the door. From the sounds of things, it looks like Captain Jevan didn't appreciate our efforts to keep the city safe. Weird.

"What a kind considerate and caring Captain you have there, Aveline." I nodded to her after she slammed the door open exiting Jevan's office with a distinct 'bang.'

"I don't have to like him, he's just my boss," Aveline grumbled, "but he could at least listen. Bandits are dead and that's all that should matter. This isn't the first time he's made me wonder like this…"

"Sounds like a mystery! Whose toes did we actually step on anyway?" I asked.

"I'm not sure, let's check the duty roster and see who was supposed to take that route," Aveline sighed, "Maker, what have I stepped in this time?"

"Aveline!" another guard called out to her as we examined the duty roster, "I owe you for clearing that ambush the other night."

"Brennan, that was your route?" Aveline asked diplomatically.

"It was. Single patrol," Brennan said, "I'd have been dead for sure."

"A single guardsman doesn't seem like much of a patrol to me, especially outside of Kirkwall." I frowned.

"It shouldn't need to be. That route had been clear for weeks," Brennan stated, "First noise out of it was your big fight. The Captain reassigned me after he heard about what you did, and asked me to pass the satchel to Donnic for his patrol tonight."

"The satchel?" I asked.

"Pay and order assignments. Captain has us running deliveries to the outposts during light duty," Brennan explained, "it's usually just an updated copy of the roster, but the satchel was pretty heavy that night. Anyway, I owe you one. Thanks again Aveline."

"So, the satchel gets heavy the same day we discover an ambush." Aveline frowned and turned to the duty roster.

"Dun dun dunnn," I said ominously, "the plot thickens! Anyway, are you sure you want to meddle here? I mean it's your superior we're talking about."

"If a guard has been put at risk, a good captain would want to know why," Aveline said looking at me over her shoulder, "and if he's not a good captain, I want to know why."

"I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable lie to explain all of this." I added helpfully.

"I'd be willing to hear it, but not when a guard might be walking into a trap," Aveline said turning her head back to the roster, "Brennan said Donnic…a good man Donnic…I've got his route."

"Hey, Aveline, since I'm helping you play guard like this," Carver butt in, "can you ask them to accept my application into the guard?"

"No," Aveline replied, "I've got his route, a night walk in Lowtown. Let's go make sure his quiet patrol stays that way."

"Well, if it's a night walk, it sounds like Carver and I will have time to pop into GAMLEN'S GRODY HOVEL and say 'hello' to Mother," I said glancing up at the ceiling, "and I guess Gamlen too."

"How about we meet outside the Hanged Man at sunset then?" Varric offered.

"As long as you'll be there, to look for Donnic before something happens, I don't care." Aveline said.

"Perfect! Everyone except Carver dismissed!" I said flinging my arms out, "Carver, my dear brother, we're going back to our LOVELY home."

"Great." Carver grunted.

Before we had even managed to get inside the hovel, we could hear Mother arguing with Gamlen again.

"My children have been in servitude! Servitude!" Mother started, "for a year! They should be nobility!"

"If wishes were poppy, we'd all be dreaming." Gamlen retorted.

"What? I'm not dreaming?" I asked and pinched my own cheek, "Huh, I guess you're right. This is real. Damn."

"And here I thought that Ferelden you ran off with was a mage, not a jester," Gamlen rolled his eyes, "your mother was supposed to marry the Comte de Launcet, but ran off with some Ferelden apostate, you don't get to stay the favorite when you do that."

"Hey! That's our Father you're talking about!" Carver glared.

"Where is Father's will? If I could just see it—" Mother pleaded.

"It's not here all right? It was read it went into the vault," Gamlen glared, "no one needed to look at it again."

"I know the Amells were nobles, but you haven't said much else about them." I said to Mother.

"The Amells have been a noble family in Kirkwall since Garahel drove out the Fourth Blight," Mother said turning to me, "But we've always had magic in our blood. I think that's what hurt your grandparents the most; I was bringing more magic into our bloodline not less."

"Did grandfather mention Mother in his will at all?" I asked Gamlen.

"Our father died when you were still in pinafores girl, you can hardly expect me to remember at all." Gamlen replied.

"Oh, of course not. Why should you do something reasonable?" Carver rolled his eyes.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously at Gamlen. Something was off. That was a fact. Gamlen was trying to weasel out of this. You're not getting out of this while I'm here, dear uncle.

"Well, that certainly touched a nerve," I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously, "what's in there that you don't want us to see?"

"Nothing!" Gamlen said throwing his arms up, "but you won't be seeing the bloody thing. It's still locked up on the estate, and that's long out of my hands."

"Uh-huh, because why would you ever keep a will around for future reference?" I said rolling my eyes.

"It was old news," Gamlen glared, "you think I've been sitting around here for twenty-five years waiting for Leandra to slink back?"

"Who bought the estate Gamlen?" Mother cut in, "was it the Reinhardts? If I could just speak to them…"

"No one you know," Gamlen said defensively, "get used to Lowtown, that's where we're going to stay."

"Maker, I don't know how to feel about this," Carver said approaching me after the argument, "I want to make things better for Mother, but some of the things Gamlen said, it makes it hard for me to hate him. I mean, being stuck in someone's shadow left to take care of your parents? That's no way to live."

"Varric really was right, you really do resemble Gamlen." I commented.

"Look, if you want to join the fight over who lost the most, fine," Carver sighed, "but I've never lived here. Mother even gave me her old key to try and stir something up, but who are the Amells to me anyway? Finding Grandfather's will doesn't matter to me."

"Maybe we should find a connection then, hmmm?" I replied and then frowned, "why would she give the key to you and not me?"

"Probably because you'd lose it," Carver replied, "and find a connection to what? The once mighty Amells? A bunch of slavers are squatting on that dusty glory."

"Slavers?" I asked tilting my head.

"Dear Uncle Gamlen's a chatty drunk, that's who he signed it over to," he sighed, "Gamlen was neck deep in debt so he handed it over to them. The most extensive wine cellar in Kirkwall is now a slave highway from the Undercity. That's our family legacy."

"Well, that can't be allowed to continue." I replied.

"And what would happen if we stopped it? We still aren't important enough to actually live in the place." Carver sighed again.

"Let's set small goals first, dear." I said.

"All right; tell you what: if the key works we'll clear it out from the Undercity up," Carver said turning to me, "and if it doesn't, then oh well."

"Sounds like a plan," I nodded, "we should also probably meet up with Aveline and Varric now about Donnic's patrol."