It has literally been ages since I wrote, but I feel inspiration to get this story going again! I hope you'll enjoy it! Feel free to leave me comments, they actually keep me going and inspire me to continue!

.4 The path of destruction

How flamboyantly oblivious the Orlesian nobility appeared to be. Elissa's hand was passed from left to right, while she herself carefully scanned the room for someone to meet the description Zevran had given her.

Although her accent and manners arose questions it didn't cause suspicion. 'I must ask about your hairdo my dear, you wear it with an admirable nonchalance, do I sense the signature of my own coiffeur?' and 'Dare I ask where you reside, because the contemporary inn is not up to standard since that awful murder has taken place.'. Elissa managed to answer with words more meaningless than she could imagine making them up, and yet never ceased to leave her audience behind with a satisfied grin.

It seemed to Elissa she was considered a foreign treat, a scarcity to entertain. Her appearance caused a glorious foxhunt the Orlesian nobles would never be able to solve because the richly flowing wine would entice their memories only until the morning light.

Or from the second she disappeared from their sight.

She slipped down the hallway leading to the second floor as soon as the opportunity arose, leaving behind the older gentleman who had transparently started to subject the tailoring of her dress to a closer inspection.

The corridor was more quiet, but all but empty. Men and women who met similar expectations for the night were entwined shamelessly against the paneled walls, and even across the steps of the stairs leading to the second floor. Elissa was careful not to catch anyone's attention. Besides a young woman looking right through her in a passion or wine induced stare, she succeeded.

The hall that followed was deserted. No lamps were lit, and the torches that brunt so vividly outside didn't seem to be able to warm the cold interior with their glow. Several battered suits of armor stood against the walls in an honorary formation, but overall there were no signs of the ornate embellishments the Orlesians took their pride in.

It only underlined the façade Zevran had described her to find.

The day her elven friend had offered a solution to their increasing problems with the Crows seemed distant after the long journey they experienced from Ferelden to the capitol of Orlais. Still, his words chimed through her head like a soothing lullaby.

"I take these complications with my former kin are starting to bother you, my dear Warden." His face had been painted with the careless charm she got to know so well during their recent travels. That she and him had both been attacked that day during a trip to the Denerim market didn't seem to impress him in the slightest. Alistair, who sat next to her during this informal meeting, was almost trembling with anger when his friend relived the predicament of that day. Zevran continued seemingly unconcerned.

"I have given it some thought since it became obvious the Crows haven't ceased their hunt on you. I have a plan, a daring one to say the least, that might rid you from similar occurrences once and for all."

That the plan had been daring was an understatement. Paying Val Royeaux a visit during the largest gathering of Antivan Crows of the year seemed foolish. Then again, as Zevran pointed out, the element of surprise can prove to be a fatal cut.

As soon as Elissa closed the heavy double doors behind her, the hall seemed still as a tomb. The heavily carpeted floor absorbed her every sound, and only the heaving of her chest reminded her that she was still amongst the living. Ignoring the urge to crouch she steadily walked through the lane of silent guardians.

The atmosphere of the dim hall was haunting, and despite the increasing danger she felt herself in she was relieved to hear a murmur of voices from behind the single door ahead of her. She slowly walked forward, mustering her courage and trying to remember everything Zevran had told her.

Before she was able to form a solid plan to explain her entrance, the door flew open.