Here we are, mostly on time.

The Invisible Pretender: It's something and I shall take it!

Here we go

Chapter 20: A Great Plan

"This is horrible plan," Marian remarks worriedly as we make our way back towards town. I scowl. Ye of little faith...

I'd finally managed to convince them that the plan was golden so they decided to let me go. Still not entirely trusting of me, I obviously needed a guard. I'd advocated Marian, mostly because the rest of her family were either mages, children or women who looked like they wanted to stab me. I'd taken my Crow's Dagger back and off we went on our merry way.

At least it would be merry if my companion was a little less sceptical.

"Trust me, this'll work. You'll be back home without Templars breathing down your neck before you can say "There's no place like home Toto,"" I laugh slightly.

I've noticed I laugh a lot at my own jokes. Mostly because other people don't understand.

"Who's Toto?" Marian asks, illustrating my point. I sigh as we enter town. God, I miss references that people at least had a chance of understanding.

"Never mind," I say tiredly as I rub my head. There's no bump from where Marian smacked me, and I'm thankful for Elvha for helping me with my Will powers. She's a good teacher.

Speaking of teachers...

Jack? Oakvale? You guys up? Some of your input would be good in this most delicate of situations?

There's no response, which I find odd. It's not exactly like my ensouled swords sleep. I reach out with my head for their presence and feel... resistance? What? That's never happened before? What's going on? It's almost like something's blocking them... Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.

But I don't believe that.

We enter the town cautiously. My danger signal is flaring like crazy, but I can't pinpoint anything as of yet...

The town is empty, devoid of all life. Not really surprising, but it still feels ominous. The light of the morning's just beginning to cross over the hills, marking the clouds red and pink amongst the deep blue of the morning sky.

Red sky in the morning, Shephards Warning.

We move through quickly. Time is of the essence. Despite what I'm telling the Hawkes, I have dubious feelings towards this plan. The only thing stopping me getting carted away is a piece of paper. I'd much rather have a more substantial shield. And then there's other ways it could fall apart. Who ever called in the Templars could be there to identify me as a different apostate. Or they could know exactly who they're looking for. The only thing that makes me doubt that last point is that if they knew the Hawke family were half filled with apostates, they wouldn't hesitate to strike.

Damn, this is a terrible plan. Fuck sake Hawke, pessimism is contagious.

I go to enter the inn and curse as the door remains firm. Locked. I curse foully under my breath and Hawke raises a brow.

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" she mocks as I glare at her.

"Nope, but I can kiss yours," I mutter tersely as I concentrate on my breathing. This isn't the kind of door you can lock pick open, and none of my spells are exactly precise and subtle. They're more of a "point and things go boom" sort of deal. Lots of power, no control. I didn't realize how much of a hindrance that was.

"Which one's your room?" Hawke asks, and I can hear the laughter in her voice. Really, it's a lovely voice. For a bitch.

"The one above us," I say angrily. I am literally feet away from the fucker!

The mighty Sparrow, defeated by a wooden door. I'm almost glad I can't reach Oakvale or Jack, they'd never forget it.

I'm a few seconds away from saying sod it and blasting it down when I hear Hawke take a few steps back and take a breath. I look back in time to see her break into a run straight for me. I step out of the way as she runs up the wall, grabbing the sill easily, opening the shutters and crawling in. After a second she pokes her head out with a Cheshire cat grin that brings a scowl to my face. She's got moves, I'll admit. Ezio would be proud.

I step back and run up the wall, grabbing the sill and roughly pulling myself in after Marian, who steps back to allow me access. I find the dismount tricky and end up falling flat on my face. Recovering quickly, I brush myself off nonchalantly as I rise to my feet. I ignore the sounds of Hawke's muffled sniggering and the burning in my cheeks as I move past her, getting a whiff of her perfume. Familiar scent. Hmm, it's nice.

Okay, so where's my get out of jail free card?

I snap my fingers and the candles in the room spring to life. I hear a scuffling outside the ajar door of someone moving down the hall before it falls silent again. I move towards the chest that contains all my gear - including the mysteriously silent swords - before remembering where I'd stashed the key. "You have admirable control," Hawke observes over my shoulder as I reach under the bed where I'd found a loose stone.

"Not really," I say with a shrug. "I'm good at showing off, but that's about as precise as I can get. Usually I just make things blow up. It's more a point and hope for the best kind of magic," I pull the key from behind the stone and pull myself out from under the bed. I give Hawke a short smile before crouching in front of my chest.

And that's when I notice a few things. Really really important things that I should have noticed earlier. But as I just said, I'm good for showing off. For being blunt. Despite the intricacies of my mind, I can be really dull at times.

Numero uno: The lock on the chest is busted. But not like someone broke it. More like they took a blow torch to it. Or, they focused their magic in an approximation of one. Like I did back in the Crawler's Mine. There's droplets of steel dripped down the front and onto the floor. It's still warm.

Numero uno uno: I didn't leave the door open, yet there it is. Not wide open, more slightly ajar, letting a sliver of light escape into the hallway and allowing anyone outside to know when I was in. As far as I know me and the innkeeper are the only ones with keys, and I've got mine in my hand.

Numero tres: Hawke doesn't wear perfume.

"Oh fuck nuggets," I say quietly as I open the lid of the chest, confirming my suspicions. It's empty. No Warden armour, no weapons. And especially no get out of jail card. However, there is some new, unfamiliar paraphernalia. A skull with a candle melted on top, with a symbol I don't know on the white forehead. Among that are a few vials of blue liquid that I would hazard as being mana potions. I take it out for a moment, scowling before slipping it into my pocket. Only thing here that may be useful later. And would you look at that, resting under my new skull is a dark and forbidden looking book, all black leather and silver trimmings, covered in symbols and runes and stuff.

Looks like if I do cause a fuss with my Will around here, I will not be passing Go. I'm no expert, but this screams dark magic practitioner.

Someone's taken my things, and the same person must be blocking Jack and Oakvale from communicating with me. I didn't even know that was possible...

"What's the matter?" Hawke asks before stepping forward and seeing my empty chest. "I don't suppose you spilled an invisibility potion in there?" she jokes when she doesn't see any pardons, but there's an edge to it. She's scared. So am I.

Okay brain, thinking time. What the fuck is going on? I get the feeling I'm being set up here.

Who? Who the hell is doing this? How are they doing this? How am I not understanding?

I hear another twitch outside, almost like the grating of metal... Or armour.

Yeah, being set up.

I throw my arm out and feel my mana drain as Ice slams into the door, knocking it closed and covering it with a thin sheen of ice, fastening it to the frame. Outside I hear scrambling and someone begins to pound the door down. Hawke jumps back in fright as I draw my dagger.

Maybe it wasn't a great plan after all.

"What are you doing?" she asks desperately, her eyes moving to the window and the door and then settling on me.

"Keeping you safe. I can buy you maybe five minutes," I say as the door begins to shudder more violently. More bodies are piled against the door. "Make that two. Get back to your family. Tell them to stay put," I say quickly, putting emphasis on the last two words. "There's another mage here trying to hide their tracks. Be careful."

"Sparrow," she starts and I see the grip on her own blades tighten. "I can help."

"Maybe in a few years," I say with a smirk. "Help your family. I can look after myself."

The door is struck again and the room is filled with the sound of splintering wood. I look at her desperately, but she still looks conflicted. Time for the sinker.

"If they find you they'll go straight for your family."

The effect is instant. Her back straightens, her mouth sets, eyes narrowing. She nods at me once and dives through the window. I watch her land perfectly and sprint across the road, in between some house and out of sight.

Where the hell did she learn all this gymnast shit?

Okay, focus. What do I have. A large knife, some magic, no plan and only one escape. I need to make a distraction so they won't go looking for any accomplices but at the same time, I need something low key so that it won't wake up the whole damn town and make escape impossible.

Dammit, everyone who could help me figure this out is gone! Duncan, Jack, Oakvale. It's just me. All by myself. With nothing to lose.

Fucking mon then!

I crack my neck as the door pushes forward, bulging in the middle. One more and it's gone.

I raise my hand and let loose a controlled fireball, reducing the door to ashes in an instant before fizzing out. The two Templars trying to barge in are taken by surprise mid rush and fall on the floor. Two more push through the door, swords raised and tongues speaking in an eldritch tongue.

Shit, Templars can block magic! Without it I'm dead!

"SMILE!" I shout as I throw an arm over my eyes, concentrating on making the candles flash brightly like a camera harnessing the light of the sun. I feel a surprisingly heavy drain as the Templars yell in pain. I remove my arm and prepare to get out before more charge forward.

Jesus, how many are there?

Thinking quick, I make a tactical retreat, throwing myself out of the window. I should have bought Hawke enough time. I activate my shield to cushion my fall.

Or at least try.

I land with a sickening crunch as I feel bones of my arm grate against my shoulder, before popping out of the joint. Black spots appear over my vision as I howl in pain. My shoulder is white hot agony, as though I'd landed in lava. I hastily pull myself to my feet, groaning loudly as even the simple motion sends lances of pain through my body. I almost collapse.

But I know if I do, it's game over.

With that I rush in the opposite direction Hawke went, staggering half blind with pain as the Templars shout after me before more come from the bolted front door. After a few seconds I feel my sapped Will return in a slow trickle.

So no. Not a good plan at all.

I can't help but grin dizzily as I see the bridge I remember from Dragon Age, the one you're on after leaving Flemeth's hut. I'm sure I remember something about bandits.

I keep pushing myself, feeling the breath of the Templars on my neck. I spin and launch another fireball, which causes my attackers to scatter several feet away. There isn't a lot of power in them, not even close. If any did actually connect they might get a small burn, like from brushing against a hot hob. They wouldn't disintegrate like normal. I'm okay with not killing them for doing their jobs. Not while I have a choice. The magic's just for show right now.

I've managed to keep them far enough away to stop their magic from affecting mine. But it's close. I don't know the exact range but every time I hear one speed up, or some chanting I spray and pay. It's worked so far, but I know it's not going to last. I just have to be thankful the pricks don't have bows.

I just realised. Some prick stole my crossbow. I JUST BOUGHT THAT THING! Oh, when I get my hands on them...

An uneven stone in the road causes me to stagger, jolting my arm and reminding me that now is really not the time to get distracted.

On a good day, I could outrun these guys in distance and speed with the Taint running through me. But my arm's not letting me get the necessary speed to get away. I can't gain any advantage, and I'm tiring quickly with all the fire and Ice I'm throwing about. I need to end this, fast, without killing any of the shitheads.

I come to a stop at the side of the bridge that's over hung by trees and the Templars surround me in a cautious semi circle as I feel another huge mana drain. Must be a proximity thing. Fantastic. I lean against the wall and pant more than I actually need to. Fear and a little weariness make it bit more credible. And hey, no one died from having to much air. Gives me more time, makes them think I'm weakened.

"As much as I love company lads," I grunt painfully as I hold my wounded arm steady. "My morning jog's really my alone time," I quip. No one laughs. Not even me.

"Apostate, surrender yourself at once," shouts one hefting a greatsword, the leader I suppose. His armour seems a little fancier. Shinier. I look at the slit of his helmet and recognise Mr Dead Eyes.

"Yeah, okay, I surrender" I say, looking down miserably. Then I look up with a demented smile and wink. "SIKE!"

And with that I throw myself backwards, over and off the bridge. I see the Templars rush towards me as I growl angrily in pain in my shoulder. Then I begin to fall.

"FREEDOM!" I quip madly as gravity takes effect. If I'd eaten anything I know I'd throw up. If I get back to my world, this experience has put me off bungee jumping.

You'd think, considering the injury I'm sporting from my last getaway jump I'd be more hesitant. But this is a good plan. Fantastic plan.

I try not to think that I said the same thing about the plan that got me into this mess. I spin slightly and wait until I feel my mana crack back before casting another shield.

God I hope I have the mana.

Seemingly I do as I don't really feel the impact, despite that I land heavily and bounce a few feet away. I quickly roll to my feet as I hear the Templars scream and rage. It'd take them at least five minutes to get off the bridge, another on top of that to get here. I don't plan to be around when they do.

I rush into the forrest and allow nature to consume me, hiding me from the glare of man.

Templars nil, Sparrow one, I allow myself a small smirk before it turns sour.

Mystery mage in the lead.

"Okay," I mutter to myself quietly as I glare at the tree a foot away. "On three. One... Two... and a half... Fuck sake, three!" I half yell as I throw myself forward into the sturdy trunk shoulder first, feeling it crunch and grind it's way back into it's proper position. I nearly scream from the pain, but thankfully had the foresight to bite my belt. I spit it out with a pained sob, rubbing my shoulder gingerly as I roll it around.

Okay, that's dealt with. I heal myself enough so the just-under-agony-pain becomes nothing more than a dull throb before I run out of mana. I curse before I start to walk forward. It'll regenerate soon enough, and I'm fit enough to walk.

And as I walk, I think.

A mystery mage is in Lothering. The only other mage's in town that I know of, I spent the night in their living room. None of them could have broken into my room. But this unknown wizard obviously did, planting evidence against me. Clever bastard. And he has to be a mage, a powerful one to block the power of Blades and Oakvale. And really, who keeps skulls and grimoires just lying around?

Maybe the Templars aren't even here for the Hawkes, or me. Maybe they were tracking this cheating bastard and we all just so happened to bump into one another. Just one huge coincidence, no harm meant.

I almost believe that. Almost.

Why pick me? Why choose me? A fellow passer through, with no visible signs of magic use and he just so happens to hit the jackpot? That smells fishy enough. So how did he know?

I haven't used magic since Denerim. So unless someone followed me here... But even among the small Rogues Gallery I'm acquiring, I've never even met another mage apart from Elvha. So this person must have been someone who's hidden that talent from me, or brought in by someone.

Maybe it's another Crow, I wonder for a moment before dismissing it. No, not their style. Death is preferable to imprisonment.

I pass a small copse of white flowers and breath in the scent with a fond smile. Snowdrops. Always loved them, they were always first up after the thaw. And there was that lovely smell, even better in the morning dew... Elvha and Tamarel had a perfume that smelled just like them. Seranna didn't and I snort at the idea of Seranna trying to use perfume. Not that she stinks. Just that it's hard to imagine her being feminine enough to wear perfume.

Anyway, back to business. Time to catalogue what I know about my enemy.

Okay, mage obviously. How many? There could be one, or a dozen for all I know. Need more information. Possible motive against me - not that I can think why, my encounters with the Captain taught me to be nice to folks - lead to them setting me up. Not subtle, they could have picked the lock but they melted it off. Why? Impatience? Lack of technical skills? So they melt the lock and then what? Were they looking for something? Or did they just want to stitch me up? Either way, they took my weapons and armour, Duncan's pardon and my money. Robbed me blind. Motherfuckers.

Then they filled it with their own paraphenalia. A grimoire of what I sensed to be dark magic, blood magic in this world. Which says a lot. There's a reason they had the book. To learn. And if they're willing to give it up, then they must feel they've learned all they need to know. Which doesn't bode well for anyone in their way. I don't know exactly what was in the book but - while I'm hopeful - I doubt it was a gothic colouring in book.

I scratch at my skull. I've gone too far. Regroup, step back.

Okay, focusing on the motive against me. They know too much to be random. They knew I had magic, and they knew about the swords. Maybe not that they housed ancient spirits, but they knew enough to block or ward them from me. So that suggests premeditation. It was planned...

I'm away from the city. Away from most of my allies. Just me and the Commander. Who is then called away. Just me. Alone. Perfect time to off me.

Reynolds.

Fuck, it's got to be. I don't know about anyone else who it could be. Who else have I pissed off? No-one to my knowledge.

But he's rotting in a jail, waiting on a spare noose. It can't be him. And even then, how would he escape? Or set this up in the first place? He'd kill me, not play an elaborate game like this.

No, it can't be the Captain. Isn't logical.

I lie down among another patch of snowdrops, feeling the slight dew soaking into my shirt.

There used to be a time when I didn't actually have enemies. Didn't actually have people who wanted to kill me.

Then again...

It was boring. Monotonous. Tedious. However you want to say it, it sucked. I've seen and done more in this past year than I have my whole life. I'm a part of something much bigger than myself. I help people. And I feel... content. That wasn't a word I'd use to describe my old life where I'd struggle to find a reason to get up.

But first, I need to help myself. So come on "Warden Sparrow", whodunnit?

Step back. Take the emotion out of it. The mage is smart. They're trying to cover their tracks. Maybe the Templars are hunting him. Maybe he's scared. Or maybe he's trying to provoke something. I don't know.

God, you see all those cops shows and they make profiling the killer so easy. And maybe it is. Maybe all us killers of men out there can all be put into neat categories, filed away in neat boxes. Except there hasn't been a murder. It's just a thief trying to set me up. There's some conspiracy afoot and I can't find a thread to unravel any of it.

I growl as I open my eyes. The pinkness of the sky is gone, and the sun is high. It must be hours since I escaped the Templars. With any luck they've came into the forest after me, giving me a chance to slip into town with a little breathing room.

Except I can't go until this fucking jigsaw starts fitting together.

I pound my fist against the ground and grunt before the fight leaves me. Stop getting so worked up and just power through this for god sake.

Okay, deep breathes. Forget about it for a second... Relax... In... I feel the wet earth, beginning to warm up a little in the spring day, hear the birds twittering away, smell the snowdrops under me, see the cloudy sky that reminds me of back home...

Wait. I just missed something. What was it?

Oh!

Noo...

YES!

Hang on. I sit up and look around with a confused expression. That can't be it?!

Surely... No, I mean... It's...

I think I've worked it out. It's just... not what I expected. I mean it's... It can't be right. But all the pieces that were working at the back of my head are putting the jigsaw together, and it makes sense. A weird sort of sense. Yes, there are still gaps but it's plausible.

With that dealt with I rise to my feet, brush myself off and march towards town with new determination.

I'm right, I know it. And I am pissed.

Dun dun DUN!

See you guys next week, you know what to do until then.