Hawke walked into the clinic quietly after hearing the sobs of a woman clear out into the hall. Anders hovered over a young girl, no more than six, who lay still on the table before him. Her exposed legs were several shades of purple and blue, an arm was twisted in the most unnatural position, and a large knot had begun forming on her head. Hawke couldn't help the gasp of alarm that escaped her lips, causing his eyes to meet hers.

"Help me," Anders whispered as his hands moved slowly over a broken ankle.

She moved in to assist; Hawke closed her eyes and placed the palm of her hand on the girls stomach. Drawing on the power within herself, she focused in assessing the damage within the little girl. A few cracked ribs, thank the Maker, nothing vital was punctured or damaged beyond what they could repair. A soft glow radiated from her fingertips as she poured her magic into bone, gently bridging the cracked gaps within.

Anders moved position; no longer opposite Hawke, they were now standing side by side as he begun work on the other leg and Hawke the arm. She carefully began with a gentle touch of cold to numb the area before snapping the bone back into its proper joint. The displacement looked worse than it actually was; once corrected Hawke concentrated on making sure nerves and blood vessels were functioning normally.

Hawke took a step back, completing her part, as Anders moved in front of her to address the forehead wound. Within seconds the bump had receded, and he took a moment to brush the young girls hair away from her face. "She'll be fine," he assured the worried mother watching over them. "Allow her to remain here until she wakes, and then take her home to rest for a few days."

The teary-eyed mother nodded her understanding; a barely audible "thank you" was said as she held her daughter in her arms.

Anders placed his hand on the small of Hawke's back to escort her into the back room away from the two. "That poor girl," Anders whispered as he sat down on an overturned crate, running a hand through ragged hair. "She wandered out the front door looking for her cat and was trampled by one of the night gangs in the mist of some street fight." He rested his head against the wall behind him. "The bloody bastards didn't even try to help her; they just left her in the street to die."

"Someone should do something about these streets at night," Hawke stated angrily.

Anders set his gaze upon her. "You're right. Someone should."

Hawke smiled at the twinkle in his eye. "Care to join me in a midnight stroll?"

He stood and reached for his staff. "I would love to," he answered with a grin.

Dearest Father,

What a night! I am utterly and completely exhausted; drained beyond belief of what I ever thought possible. And yet I am writing to you because the rush is still so overwhelming! This is what I want to do. I think this is what I was meant to do!

I went to the clinic to thank Anders for what he did for Carver. I am sure Carver didn't bother to do so. But before I could even say anything, Anders was asking me for my help in healing this poor little girl that got caught up in the crazy of the streets here. The gangs that run Kirkwall at night are overwhelming; often I've had to dodge and run from them myself when I stayed out a bit too late. We heard them outside at night at Gamlens. But Mother insisted we mind our own business.

I couldn't do that anymore. Not after seeing the condition of this child...who could do such a thing! When Anders suggested someone should do something about them, in that moment I realized he was right, and that someone should be me.

With some help of course. Carver was easy to convince; I told him we were heading out to bash in some skulls and he was all for it. Then we tracked down Fenris who was also more than willing to assist. Two mages and two warriors set out to do what Aveline's guards have been unable (or unwilling) to do. A quick word to Varric to get a hold of his friends for "cleanup" and we headed out.

First order of business was Lowtown. That little girl needed a safe home to return to. A gang called the Sharps Highwaymen led by a man named Ignacio Strand were held up in a hovel on the east side. It was a tough battle but easily won by us since most of them were archers. Arrows don't penetrate armor or magic shields very well so Carver and Fenris were able to take down a lot of them before they could even put down their bows and reach for their daggers. Once we took out the leader, his group soon followed, and we were able to check Lowtown off the list.

Next we made our way down to the docks. Isabela had been complaining lately that a gang called the Redwater Teeth, led by some guy named Leech, were constantly looting ships and attacking crewmen late at night. I don't know why those Qunari didn't do anything about the raiders; they live right there, don't they care about the city that has provided them with a home? Oh that's right, they hate this city. Well that's fine, we took care of it anyway. I think Fenris really enjoyed this one; Leech was a blood mage, and for the second time I got to witness his fist go through someone's chest. Still as scary as the first time.

Fenris informed us about another gang called the Guardsman Pretenders that ran through Hightown at night. They were a bit more organized under their leader Captain Qerth. I guess this is why the nobles didn't come out at night; wouldn't want to ruin your fancy shoes trying to defend your rich homes now would you! Fenris lives there. The Chantry is there. The viscount and guard are there for Makers sake...what are these thugs thinking? Nothing now. They've been taken care of!

It was a fun night I have to admit. A real feeling of accomplishment knowing that we can now wander around the city and not worry about each other. And rewarding too! A strange woman came up to us in Hightown and handed me a sack of coin; four sovereigns! We tried to refuse but she insisted, saying it was "courtesy of some friends" for clearing out the streets.

I tried to split all the money with the guys but they surprised me instead. Each of them agreed to put their share towards the orphans of the city...to try and do some good with the bad coin that we had gathered. I thought this was such an amazing idea, I threw my share in with them. I dropped the money in the collection box outside the Chantry. Sure I'm still short for the expedition, but I don't care.

I'm feeling pretty good about myself right now. And even Carver hugged me before going to bed. Miracles do happen.

As he snuffed the torches outside of the Chantry doors, he heard a commotion below in the square. Cursing himself for not having his bow, all Sebastian could do was investigate the trouble and call for a guard if something serious was taking place.

He watched, nearly holding his breath, as the battle ensued before him. Two warriors and two mages working together to clear out what Sebastian knew to be one of the gangs that ran the streets at night. Who was this mysterious group? And what was their motivation for taking on such a disruptive and deadly gang? They seemed to have a pretty good handle on the situation though; the fight was over within minutes and Sebastian was able to breath again.

Some men came out of the nowhere and gathered the weapons and bodies of the fallen gang, disappearing as quickly as they had appeared. After a brief discussion with someone else, one of the mages began walking in his direction. Sebastian couldn't run into the Chantry for fear of being caught gawking at the fight and not assisting, so he hid in the shadows before the woman made it to the top of the stairs.

The sound of four gold coins clinked as they hit the other coins in the donation box. When the woman turned around, Sebastian nearly blew his cover with a quick intake of breath. He recognized her immediately. He hadn't seen her since the night he helped her home, her inebriated ramblings of sorrow still clinging to his chest.

But Hawke didn't look sad now. She looked happy, ecstatic even. Her smile was bright as she hopped down the steps and linked arms with the other mage. Sebastian braved the top of the stairs again to see her and her companions head off into the night.

He knew so little of her; the woman that avenged his family, then showed up in the Chantry in tears over a dream, only to nearly fall into his arms after a little too much drink. But what he had learned tonight, besides her generous nature, was something he wasn't sure he could forget anytime soon.

Marian Hawke is an apostate.