83. Meanwhile, Back at the Inn...

Alistair yawned as he made his way back up from the inn commons. Breakfast had been hearty, if a bit lonely, and Alistair was still working on his last piece of ham. He hadn't bothered to put his armor on; no one had been around when he'd woken up to make him, so whatever. He wasn't going to wear that Templar armor any more than he had to.

He could practically hear Felicity scolding him for being so careless, in Loghain's city no less. The thought made him smile as he pushed through the door back into his inn room.

That smile faded at the sight of the stern elderly woman in his room, regarding him with an expression that suggested he'd just been caught stealing cookies. Out of reflex, Alistair hid his last bit of ham behind his back.

"Alistair," Wynne said, and the Warden felt inexplicably anxious. "Do you know where the others disappeared to?"

Well, that wasn't too bad a question. He shrugged and popped the last of the ham into his mouth. "I can't say. Fin and Zevran were gone when I woke up."

"As were Meila and Leliana. Did either of them tell you where they'd be going?"

"Nope. Maybe they went shopping?"

"In their armor, Alistair?"

At that, he looked around and noticed for the first time that the elves' armor was nowhere to be found. He didn't see their weapons or packs either, though that wasn't strange, since both elves tended to carry concealed daggers in public.

"Um…"

Wynne sighed. "So you didn't have any part in their disappearance?"

"Apparently not." Alistair paused. "I wonder why they didn't take me with."

"Alistair!"

"Well, I have to figure I'm not sneaky enough or something. Wonder what they were doing, that they just took the sneaks…" A very disturbing answer popped into his head. They'd snuck off in the middle of the night, in Denerim, with the assassin. "Oh no, they wouldn't."

Though, after that whole mess back in Redcliffe, Alistair wasn't so sure what Fin and Meila were capable of anymore. But come on… Leliana? She was a Chantry sister, for Andraste's sake! She couldn't possibly have any part in the assassination of major political figures!

Wynne rubbed her eyes. "Perhaps they merely wished to track down Brother Genitivi in a stealthy way."

"Right… sure. Maybe that's it." Still, why did he have a feeling of foreboding all of a sudden?

There was a clatter from the courtyard outside, and Alistair moved to the window. He could see the stable behind the inn, including the three grim-faced guardsmen who walked into the yard.

"Well, that can't be good."

"What?" Wynne poked her head out the window, then pulled Alistair away from it. "This cannot be a coincidence. Your armor, hurry!"

The elder ran back to her own room, and Alistair tried to do what he could to be quick about attaching a hulking metal suit to his limbs. In the end, Wynne had to come back in full Chantry Mother mode and finish up.

Alistair could hear shouts downstairs now.

"The helmet, quickly." He obediently strapped his helmet on and lowered the visor. Wynne thinned her lips. "Let us hope our disguises can pass muster so easily without Finian's oversight."

Alistair nodded, grabbing his bag and strapping on his swordbelt.

The pair of them headed down the stairs to see a group of guards harrowing the innkeeper. The guards waved a couple pieces of paper in his face, and Alistair was pretty sure he saw his own face on one of them. This, here, was pretty much the opposite of good.

'Mother' Wynne bowed respectfully to the guards as they passed. They stopped bothering the innkeeper to salute in return. The innkeeper, for his part, looked worried and confused, but he wasn't pointing directly at them, so Alistair wasn't about to complain. Good man.

Alistair kept dutifully at the mage's heels as they walked calmly out the door. They headed out onto the street, Wynne turning them toward the Chantry.

"This is bad," Alistair said, once they'd put some distance between them and the inn raid.

"We need to somehow warn the others that the inn isn't safe."

"Nowhere is safe. Did you see? They had drawings. This is so very bad."

"Just keep your helmet on for now. We must somehow warn the others. There has to be something we can do."

Alistair paused as they reached the Chantry, his eyes drawn to the two women by the Chanter's board, one shouting hilariously mangled food-related verses of the Chant. "Hey Wynne? How's your memory of the Chant?"