Why the gardens around the Arl's palace in Denerim were never guarded, Cantis had no idea. He picked the lock on the backdoor, pulled his hood over his head, and slipped inside.
An elven servant inside dropped the serving tray she was holding when she heard him enter, and she jumped, turning around wildly to see him. "W-who're you?" Her voice was shaky, and it was clear he had scared the daylight out of the poor woman.
"Visiting dignitary." He said simply, angling his head down to conceal his face. That was the easiest lie available, and Samson had said it would get him past most of the servants, who were treated as garbage by the nobility anyways.
"You startled me, you did!"
"Terribly sorry. Didn't mean to." He said shortly. His voice was intentionally deeper to conceal his identity, and he began walking.
"How did you get in here, sera?" The woman asked, still taken aback, almost cowering from him. "The door was locked, it was."
He stopped, and breathed deeply. If he was discovered by a servant, this would be over before it began. "I don't know what to tell you madame." He said slowly. "I took a walk out in the gardens, and the door was unlocked when I came back in."
"Madame?!" She laughed. "T-thank you sera. N-no one's ever been so polite to me in my life." She cocked her head to the side a little. "I would have thought I would remember a proper gentleman like you."
"People tend not to remember someone like me."
He continued walking, and into the hallway. Now he was running on a clock: The woman was sure to tell someone else about how pleasant he had been, and someone was sure to discover him. He had briefly thought about hitting her to keep up the façade of a visitor, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He was here to end the suffering of innocent people, not compound it.
Cantis bit hard on his lip, steadying his jangling nerves. It had been a little more than three months since he had joined up with the Venatori, and had carried out a dozen successful operations against people who would be in opposition, or otherwise be in the way, to the end of the Mage-Templar war, but none were this dangerous.
Today was the day he killed Vaughan Kendells, acting Arl of Denerim. If he was caught...
Technically, the Hero of Ferelden, Marilina Amell, was the Arlessa of both Denerim and Amaranthine, but since she was still the Commander of the Grey in Ferelden, and her only real kin, her wife named Leliana, was the Left Hand of the Divine, the city had Vaughan, the former Arl, act as Arl while she was away. She was the only reason he was alive. She had released him from the Denerim dungeons after Arl Howe had imprisoned him there.
To quote her: "No man deserves that kind of suffering. Not even a murdering rapist."
Cantis didn't agree.
Of course, no one in the city would ever listen to what Vaughan said or did, regardless of if he was Arl or not. They all knew the story of how Vaughan had kidnapped and raped several elves from the Alienage, and then executed their families who came to rescue them. Even people who disregarded elves as animals had difficulty listening to the details. And now that he was in strong favour of the Mage-Templar conflict, the Venatori had issued an assassination order to Cantis.
Not that anyone would miss the man.
He found where the orders said the Arl's quarters were, and picked the lock. With only a moment's pause, he felt the hand-crossbow in his equipment belt, and opened the door.
The man was in front of the fireplace, sitting in a large, fancy chair. "Arl Kendells?" Cantis asked, pulling the crossbow from the sling and into his hand.
Vaughan stood, and turned frantically. "Who in the hell are you?!" He shouted.
"The Venatori send their regards." And with that, he lifted the crossbow, and pulled the trigger. The bolt pierced the Bastard's throat, and he choked to death on his own blood.
"A fitting end to the worst man ever to curse this city." He muttered to himself, and lowered the weapon, loading a new bolt into it.
He heard a surprised gasp from behind him, and whirled around to see it's source. The same elven servant from earlier was standing there, cowering from him. "W-what have you done?"
He should have felt fear from her. If she called the guards, there was no way he could single-handedly fight his way out of the palace. If she uttered a word, he would die.
But he felt nothing of the sort. Instead, a surge of courage went through him, and he smiled.
Cantis looked back to the dead man, and back up at her. "All I've ever wanted." He tossed a coin purse of ten sovereigns to her, and she caught it. "Made the world a better place." He walked past her, and she shuddered as he passed. If she called for him to die, at least he would have died protecting more innocent people from this bastard.
"Milord." She stammered, and he turned. "T-thank you. Whoever you are, thank you."
At The Gnawed Noble Tavern
Cantis sat down at the bar booth beside Samson in the corner room, who had been waiting for him, and ordered a drink.
"Is it done with?" Samson whispered without looking at Cantis after their waitress had left earshot, leaving them the only people in the room and Cantis nodded indiscreetly.
"The bastard's never hurting anyone ever again." He quietly confirmed. He had thought it a bad idea to remain in the city, especially after hearing the bells and drums in the distance after the Arl had been discovered, but then he had realized that they wouldn't search the high end part of town. They would spent days searching the Alienage first.
"The world is better for it." He turned to Cantis. "You've been extremely helpful to us, Ser Trevelyan."
Cantis gave an appreciative smile. "We're a good cause." And he believed it. He had seen the efforts the Venatori had made to eliminate the supporters of the war, and wear the Templars and Mages down to a point where they would both agree to give up arms. "We do good work. I'm just pleased to be a part of it all."
Samson nodded, and leaned in towards Cantis. "Listen." He looked around, but no one was in the room, let alone within earshot. "You're the best man I have on staff, and you're the only one I trust with this mission. What I'm going to say can't be repeated to anyone. Ever."
Cantis nodded his head, listening. "You can trust me. I'll do anything to stop this madness."
"Good." He leaned in. "Listen to me: We have found evidence that Divine Justinia has been playing both sides, providing supplies to the Apostates, and Lyrium to the Templars."
The Trevelyan raised an eyebrow. "The Divine?" He couldn't shout, not here. His voice was an urgent whisper. "Why in the hell would she be interested in prolonging this?"
Samson shook his head. "What we've found suggests that she's interested in having the Templars and Mages rip each other apart so she can begin the Chantry again."
"What would she gain other than a couple hundred dead followers?"
Samson sighed. "The Chantry has incredible power all across Thedas, as I'm certain you know. With a snap of their fingers, a holy war could be issued. We're only as free as they say we are. Power is like a drink. The more you have, the more you want. And there's few men who can handle it." He looked at Cantis. "And Justinia can't handle it."
"Damn." Cantis met Samson's eyes. "Are you sure?"
"I was a Templar. If I wasn't absolutely certain of this, I wouldn't be saying anything."
Cantis sighed, and hung his head. "Alright. What are we going to do then?"
"She's holding a Conclave in a week, at the Temple of Sacred Ashes." He passed an invitation over the table, and Cantis took it. "She's invited the heads of both the Mages and the Templars. No doubt she intends to stroke the flames of their conflict. You are going to accompany our founder and several senior members, and you are going to take care of her. The others will know what to do."
"Alright." Cantis swallowed hard, and pocketed the invitation. "I should get going today if I want to be at the Temple in a week."
"One more thing." Samson said just before Cantis stood. "Our founder, Corypheus, he's..." He trailed off, searching for the right words. "He looks very different." Their eyes met. "He is a Tevinter magister, who... had a spell go very wrong. Don't say anything about it."
Cantis nodded. "Alright. Don't mention..." He raised an eyebrow. "What was it? Corypheus?" Samson nodded. "Don't mention his appearance. Got it." He stood, and pushed in the stool. "I swore I would do anything to end this insanity. If this is the price of restoring order to the world..." He sighed. "I hope that we're doing the right thing."
"We are."
Cantis clasped Samson on the shoulder. "Then I'll see you on the other side."