As Nathanial Howe awoke the next morning, he took a hold of his pounding forehead that was throbbing painfully enough to swear he had lost a drinking contest to a group of surface dwarves whose hammers were still banging away on steel anvils. "You're finally awake." As he stepped from the shadows of the bedroom, the Commander had managed to startle the otherwise stoic Rogue.

"So that wasn't a dream after all, was it? I was actually taken into the Grey Wardens?" Moving the blanket away, he was also surprised to see himself in the nude with his original clothing nowhere to be found. "…Is this your doing as well? We didn't….did we?" Izarre looked at the Howe flatly and rolled his eyes as he shook his head.

"You smelled like rotten fish from sitting in the dungeon for so long. I had a few servants clean you up and take your measurements for a new set of armor. We also have a few things to do around here first where I find myself in need of your personal assistance."

"Oh? Like what?" Standing, the naked man stretched first before seeing his new set of leathers neatly stacked on a chest near the bed. "This is fine craftsmanship. I honestly thought you'd be vindictive enough to only hand me a few rat-chewed scraps with a blunt dagger and practice arrows."

"…The thought crossed my mind," Izarre smiled. "But I realized that you're more useful to me alive. Besides, we still have the land to look over and reinforce. As someone who used to live here, I am counting on you to have some input on the current structure." As Nathaniel put on his armor and adjusted the straps, his eyebrow raised at the statement.

"So, you're saying you want me to give you a tour? Of my house? The one you seized and threw me in prison for coming to reclaim some of my own things?"

"That's the gist of it. Come down when you are ready." As the Commander walked away, the new Warden could only laugh dryly at the situation, but did as he was told. After walking into the main hall, he was taken aback by the collection of nobles who had come to swear fealty to new Arl. There, he witnessed those who had once pledged themselves to his father now make new vows to the person who had used magic to shatter his father's body into unrecognizable pieces. Keeping his distance as to not be recognized, he decided instead to stare at the unsettling painting of his mother which was mounted on the far wall. Still, his eyes did wander to see the mingling Izarre acquire useful information about the area and old feuds which would cause problems later.

Presently, there was an argument brewing about the protecting the surrounding farmland rather than Amaranthine itself by the few remaining soldiers who were fortunate enough to be out in the fields instead of inside the Keep when the darkspawn had attacked. "The city has its walls," the white-haired Noble said to stop the bickering. "But the people in the fields have only short fences to stop the livestock from running away. Keep the patrols up and issue a curfew for the city. If the darkspawn do attack again, we need them spotted on the approach to give us enough time to move the people to safety." There were a few nods and a few frowns, depending on which side the other lords and ladies had picked, but none of them had the stones to voice any negative opinions about the decision if they had any. With the matter settled, Izarre excused himself to venture outside into the Keep's courtyard which looked significantly less gloomy during the daytime. Down the steps and towards the well, something caught his attention in the corner of his eye to which he pulled a dagger out for and crept over slowly to see what it was. There was a rummaging sound off near a fence which he assumed was either a rat or a very small, stalking darkspawn.

"Meow."

"…Is that…a cat?" he said out loud and used the blade he had readied to push away the overgrown grass to see a small orange kitten looking up at him. After putting the weapon away, he kneeled down to pick it up, looking confused.

"Oh!" cooed Anders as he promptly plunked the animal from his Commander. "Look at the cute little kitty!" The kitten meowed once again at the attention, seemingly unafraid of those who had found him. "There was a mouser in the tower named Mr. Wiggums. Only company I had when the Templars locked me up. Miss that beast a lot, sometimes. But I can't keep a cat. We fight darkspawn for a living," the Mage sulked as he gave the purring creature several scratches underneath its chin.

"What do you want to do with it, then?" Izarre asked as he had no idea what to do in this situation.

"I'm not sure," the distracted Mage mumbled. "Seems cruel to just leave him…Well, I'll keep him for just a while. Until I find somewhere safer. Is that okay with you, kitty? I'll call you Ser Pounce-a-lot! You can stay in my pack since I have to carry all these papers anyway. Just for a little while, yes?"

"Are you really going to let him keep a cat around?" complained Nathaniel as he seemed unaffected by the cuteness of the orange fuzz ball.

"I keep you around, don't I? At least the cat hasn't tried to kill me yet."

"Ha!" laughed Oghren. "Burned!" After a huff and an eye roll, the Howe's attention was diverted as he spotted an elderly elf who was attempting to clean up some fallen stones from the pathways.

"Samuel?" he yelled and ran up to the man. "Groundskeeper Samuel? Is that you?" Turning away from his work, the elf looked a bit surprised.

"Who…? Maker's breath, if it isn't little Nate! I'd know that face anywhere!"

"Groundskeeper," blushed the very grown-up Nathaniel at the nickname. "I'm overjoyed that you stayed on. Please, do you know how my brother died?"

"You had a brother as well?" Now curious as to just how many Howes were left alive who were possibly after his head, Izarre joined the conversation.

"And a sister, but where is she? I…was in the Free Marches."

"Your brother died in the war, but Lady Delilah…Don't you know? She isn't dead, son, not that I know of. Last I heard, she married a storekeep in Amaranthine. Don't know which one. Poor girl."

"Did you hear that?" Nathaniel smiled as he turned to his Commander. "My sister's alive!"

"…Wonderful," Izarre replied though without nearly as much enthusiasm. "Why did you think she was dead?"

"I knew about my mother, and heard my brother might be dead. I suppose…I just assumed that Delilah was dead, too. Could we…ask around the shops when we get to the city?" There was a held in deep breath which took place as the request was considered.

"…We could take a look, yes."

"Thank you! I would be interested to know just what happened to her." Still, the Cousland slash Theirin mumbled as he resumed his original mission which led to the cellars. Outside the door, a guard was posted there looking rather nervous.

"Are you ready to head in, Commander?" she asked as he approached. "I don't want these trapped darkspawn digging out."

"Trapped darkspawn?" Nathaniel asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, right. Remember when I said I needed a guide through your home?" Izarre asked with a waved hand. "Well, specifically, I meant the down there. That mad dwarf with the bombs shook the foundation and there are pockets of the creatures stuck underneath us. I had them clear the rubble, but I hate circling parts unknown. We can't afford to overlook the area."

"…So you wish for me to lead you on a darkspawn hunt so what? You won't get lost?"

"He had me doing the same thing in the Deep Roads. Lad had no sense of direction," teased Oghren.

"Follow me then," Nathaniel grumbled and headed down the stairs. The cellars were massive and extensive indeed, full of old statutes and artwork from the time which they were occupied by Alamarri. "Is that a marbari?" The hound was battered, covered in bruises, scratches, and caked with dirt and blood. She seemed exhausted and half-starved, shaking with nerves, but unable to react to the strangers.

"Anders," Izarre called for the Mage's assistance. "Can you do something?"

"Don't look at me. I'm a cat person," the Blond replied. "Oh, you mean the wounds? Ah, right. Hold on then." While keeping his distance, a few healing spells were cast to stop any bleeding and help cleanse some of the infection causing the suffering hound to shake with fever and chills. Kneeling down, the Commander patted the mutt's head and removed a tied scroll from its neck. He passed it back to Nathaniel as he scratched behind the pup's ear. Unraveling the tattered parchment, the recipient suddenly became very intrigued.

"It's from Adria! She was…She was like a mother to me. It says she's trapped in the lower levels of the Keep. We must save her!" he insisted and took to leading the party again, but stopped after a few meters. "Wait, something…wrong. There's…this tingling. What is this?" he asked before noticing how everyone was also feeling the sensation, though Izarre had already armed himself for the ambush of Shrieks. "Holy Maker!" The sound of clinking daggers filled the room as the three new Wardens surprised themselves at how much more efficient they were in combat though the Commander didn't seem nearly as impressed with himself and continued to walk to a seeming dead end with a statue of Andraste mounted against the wall.

"Did you see that?!" Oghren laughed as he put his axe away. "We were like bam, bam! And they were like, 'Ahhh!'"

"Yes, my abilities do seem to have…improved drastically against fighting these monsters," the Rouge admitted as he pulled down the mounted torch to open a secret passageway.

"It's like we can bloody read their thoughts or something. Like we're equals, not victims," Anders added. "Isn't the right Ser Pounce-a-Lot?"

"Yes, well. Hopefully there won't be any more Archdemons in our time," Izarre muttered as he peeked down the hidden corridor. "You really don't want to hear those thoughts." He continued to walk around, curious as to what was making those other noises.

"Oh, thank the Maker! Please let us out!" yelled a man from a locked jail cell where several other servants had locked themselves in to keep the darkspawn at bay.

"May I?" Nathaniel asked and was given the nod of approval.

"Quick, before more of those things come!" was yelled before making a run for it to safety.

"Things?" Tilting his head, the Commander turned to see more men running up to them, but their flesh was rotted away and their clothes had been torn. "Oh…Ghouls. Lovely."

"Ghouls? What are…Andraste's mercy. No. No! Adria! We have to help her! There must be some way…" But Nathaniel's heart sank as he was given an empathic look by the younger man. Understanding the situation, the new daggers he had received were removed from his belt and gripped so tightly that his knuckles turned white. After composing himself, he slipped into the shadows and vanished from sight. As the woman staggered closer with an outstretched hand which barely had any skin left on it, she was stopped just out of reach of Izarre's face as her head was severed from her body with two strong swings from the boy she had practically raised. As her decayed body collapsed, Nathaniel cried out as he began putting the rest of the poor souls out of their misery. The other members of the party only watched as the remaining Howe channeled his rage, rightfully so, until there were no more immediate threats left.

Once the culling was over, Izarre sent Oghren back to see that the hound was treated properly and for the guard to come back down with the builder dwarf in order to assess the damage the collapse had on the tunnels. It was disturbing to find out how they could go to the Deep Roads from where they were and an order was issued to clear out the rest of the fallen rocks until they could find a more permanent solution in sealing off the passages for good. No longer feeling needed, Nathaniel excused himself to wait outside until the plan to continue to Amaranthine was ready.

After finally arriving in the city, Izarre noticed that there were an abundance of refugees being held outside the gates due to a fear of smugglers taking over the area. After striking a deal with the Captain of the Guard to try to clean out the unsavory thieves, they pressed onward to find the lost Orlesian Warden. While walking around aimless in an effort to find the tavern, Anders spotted a young woman to which he was apparently well-aquatinted with. After speaking to her in private, he came back to Izarre's side as giddy as a schoolboy. "We need to make a stop," he grinned, nearly unable to contain himself.

"…We're not stopping so you can run off and lift a skirt in a back alley," the Commander assumed and turned to walk away, but his arm was grabbed by the Mage.

"What? No! Not that! I found it!"

"What it? Found what?" With a heavy sigh, Anders released his Leader to explain better.

"That was Namaya. She is…a friend. Last time I escaped from the tower, I asked her to look into some things. You see, during the Blight, the Templars moved their store of phylacteries to Amaranthine for safety and my phylactery is among them, she learned. The Templars thought I was here to take a ship, but that wasn't the reason at all."

"...Just how many times have you escaped the tower exactly?"

"I…I escaped from the tower seven times. After the last time, they put me in solitary confinement for a year."

"A year?" Nathaniel asked, honestly a bit disturbed by that. "Maker." Nodding to him, Anders continued.

"Eventually, I'm sure they would have branded me a maleficar, true or not, and executed me. The problem is that mages are tolerated. Barely. It's like you need permission to be alive! There's nothing a mage can do to prove himself. Everyone needs to be protected from you. The end." With a strained sigh, he tried to shake away his anger once again. "All I want is a pretty companion, a decent meal, and the right to shoot lighting at fools. So long as the Templars have that sample of my blood, they can find me. I need to destroy it."

"But you're a Warden now," Izarre tried to assure him. "You are no longer under Chantry rule."

"But what's to stop them from deciding mages in the Grey Wardens are apostates, too? Please, I just want to be sure they can't find me again. Ever." Making a face, the shorter of the two was also now considering that possibility. As an open mage himself, it was an unsettling thought.

"Then…we can stop to take a look since we're already here."

"Really?" A smile came across Anders's face as he honestly wasn't expecting to be agreed with. "I…I know we're busy killing darkspawn and all. But the sooner we find this vial, the better I'll feel. The warehouse is just around the next corner there behind those market stalls." While heading in that direction, there came another distraction as Nathaniel's attention was diverted after hearing a female voice call his name.

"Nathaniel!" she shouted loudly while waving her arms. Turning, the Rogue was rushed by an attractive brunette who hugged him tightly. "Nathaniel! I had feared the worst!"

"Delilah?" he questioned and took a step back to give his sister a once over. "Delilah! It is you. Look at you!" Taking it as a compliment, she twirled around for the brother she had not seen in over a decade, but it wasn't something he had meant to praise her with. "Delilah, I know times must have been hard, but you can do better than this. Come on, gather some things and come back to the estate until we find somewhere else."

"What?" she asked with a nervous laugh. "What are you…? Oh, Nathaniel! I'm not here out of desperation! I married my husband, Albert, because I adore him!" Flabbergasted, the elder sibling made a twisted face. "He's so much better than that stuck-up Cousland boy Father kept trying to set me up with," she continued and made the exact same kind of face as she considered close-call engagement. It was then when Izarre had finally recognized her as well.

"Well, I didn't want to marry you, either," he said matter-of-factly with a less than amused tone his voice as Anders and Oghren both smirked.

"If only you were so lucky to marry my sister!" Nathaniel snorted.

"I'm married to the King! Why would I want to marry your sister?"

"You mean…you're the new Queen of Ferelden?" Delilah snorted as well in laughter. "That…explains so much."

"Prince-Consort," she was corrected. "And you didn't complain those three days we were in bed together…"

"Stop! Stop! Enough," Nathaniel yelled as he rubbed the bridge of his nose in a desperate attempt to wipe that image from his mind.

"Listen, since you're here, I just wanted to say I…I'm sorry about your family," she continued after her brother's interruption. "What my father did was…terrible. Your mother was always extremely kind to me, even if our engagement never solidified. What my father did was…terrible. Thank the Maker I'm finally away from his evil."

"Father's evil?" her brother asked as he sounded a bit taken back. "Isn't that overstating things a little? He got caught up in politics…"

"You weren't here," she said to him. "You didn't see what he did, Nathaniel. You want the culprit who destroyed our family? It was him, without question." Looking to Izarre, the Rogue felt a sudden twinge of guilt.

"I had no idea…"

"Of course you did," his sister spoke. "But you always worshipped father, right from when you were a little boy. Come, brother. Let us sit and catch up a bit, shall we?" Looking to his Commander, he smiled as he was given a nod to take his leave.

"We'll come back for you after we visit the warehouse. Take your time."

"That was very kind of you, you know that?" Ander commented to Izarre, who only shrugged in response.

"I understand the feeling. During the Blight, I thought I had lost my brother as well along with the rest of my family. When I found out he was still alive, words could not express my relief. "

"But didn't Nathaniel admit how he was going to kill you? Are you sure it's wise to be so…forgiving?"

"My father once said that hate will consume you into until there is nothing left. Nathaniel did not kill my family nor did his sister. Bitterness and envy are weapons that self-destruct. Take the former Queen, Anora. Her jealously killed both her husband and her father and now she is left with nothing. Do not fall into that trap, Anders. Vengeance should not hold dominion over you. " Taking the words under consideration, the Mage continued to lead them around the alleyway to a seemingly abandoned building with a sealed door.

"Here it is, I think," he said as he tried in vain to pull on the boards. "Damn, I could burn them..." As his hands lit on fire to do so, he was suddenly pushed out of the way.

"Step aside, junior," Oghren huffed as he took one boards with both hands. After a loud growl, he had yanked the door completely off its hinges but Anders had already moved on to a second door on the side of the structure and opened it with ease.

"Oh, this one is unlocked…Sorry!" Peaking inside, Izarre and Dwarf soon joined him from their recently opened entrance. "No guards? Maybe they don't want to draw attention to the cache? Could we be that lucky?"

"Not likely," the Commander responded and went searching on his own until he found the Templar he had met earlier with Alistair and two others waiting for them in an empty corner.

"And here I almost believed that the infamous Anders wouldn't take the bait," she smirked with crooked sort of pleased with herself smile.

"Ah yes," Anders laughed. "I suppose I should have known it to be you!" Rolling her dark eyes, she turned them to who was in charge.

"You made a poor choice with this one. Anders will never submit, not to us and not to you."

"Who are you to question my judgment, Templar?" Izarre asked in return as he took a step forward to stare at her more directly. "I am Warden-Commander of Ferelden with the Right of Conscription. You have no authority here."

"Spare me the titles," she warned as she turned back to Anders. "I'll make sure this murderer is never a bother to anyone again."

"What?" Anders exclaimed. "No, you can't arrest me! King Alistair allowed it!"

"The Chantry's authority supersedes the crown in this matter. You cannot hide within the Grey Wardens' ranks." As she moved in on the Mage, she was stepped between before being able to reach him.

"This isn't a matter of the crown," the Commander assured her with a threatening glare. "The Right of Conscription overrides all else. I do not report to the King and you can take that to the Divine! Make a move against one of my charges and you will be the one not able to hide. Leave now as this is your only warning."

"Says the King's whore and yet another mage," she sneered at him. "I do not know how you inspire such loyalty, Anders, but it will avail you naught. Now you come with us." Drawing her weapon, Anders took a step back ready to flee, but was amazed to see both his two comrades also brand their own weapons. It did not take long before all three Templars were dead on the floor, even without his help. As the other two Wardens put their weapons away, Anders couldn't help but to stare silently at the bodies.

"Oghren, go find the guards and report this unfortunate incident. Have a messenger send word to the Circle and to the castle that this sort of behavior will not be tolerated. I will not have Warden mages or any of those who have joined the Order attacked for previous crimes by those in authority. This is an outrage and an insult to us all."

"Yes, Commander," the Dwarf bowed and took his leave.

"…Thank you," Anders finally said softly once they were alone. "You stood by me, and I appreciate that."

"…I care not about your past. When you drank from the cup, you became a Grey Warden, do you understand? You are no longer some runaway Circle mage that should fear the Templers. If you are to be afraid of anyone, be afraid of me," Izarre replied in near jest but took notice at how shaken up Anders seemed to be. "But more than that, we are…friends, aren't we? I know that I wasn't raised in the Circle, but I was there when it was taken over by demons. I saw the fear those mages had when they were told how the Templars had asked for the Right of Annulment. You…aren't a bad person for being born the way you are," he smiled. "You're a bad person for an entirely different set of reasons." It was a tease that even Anders could crack a smile at.

"…Are you flirting with me again?"

"…And there you go, proving my point. It's not being a mage that makes you terrible; it's your disillusions of grandeur. Come, let's get back to Nathaniel and find out what happened to this Kristoff person before I meet any of your other admirers."