"They're like ants." I shook my head, nearly losing the floppy hat hiding my hair and ears. I tugged it down a little before going on, "Look at them. No will of their own. Just running around obeying orders and doing literally nothing else."

The Dwarf camped on my right huffed through his beard. "You ever shut up, elf?"

"Not really. You ever stop complaining, Carta?"

"Not really." A dirty hand rose, scratching at a chin hidden behind brown hair. "Five hundred ya think?"

I rolled my own neck, squatting down on the roof that we were sharing. It was one of the taller ones in the area. Some kind of warehouse or something, I wasn't sure and I wasn't about to explore inside. You didn't poke around in what was being shipped in and out of Kirkwall if you wanted to keep your blood inside of your body.

"At least." I blew out a breath, the two of us watching the Qunari work on their compound. "Probably closer to six."

It was harder than you'd think to keep track of how many were around. More were coming and going all the time. Those coming in were usually carrying supplies, or what looked like pieces from their ship. The most ominous were the guys carrying heavy barrels over their shoulders; I spent a few moments praying that those were filled with food and not black powder.

"Damn."

"Damn." I agreed. "Is the Viscount still saying that they're just setting up a temporary compound until a ship arrives?"

"Yeah." Narrowed eyes glanced my way. "You don't believe 'em?"

Huffing out a breath, I nodded down to where the Qunari were building. "Does that look temporary to you?"

He grimaced, shaking his head as we both turned to observe further.

I had to give it to them; they were damned efficient at what they did. On the first day they'd made a pretty impressive encampment, complete with rudimentary fortifications. By yesterday they'd replaced mere barricades with actual walls, had started tearing down the local buildings, and put up a first attempt at a gate.

From the looks of it a better replacement for their front door would be up soon, and they'd finished tearing down a good third of the old structures. More were already being stripped of anything usable, and would probably be broken down tomorrow.

"No." The Carta scout agreed. "It doesn't. Shit. Boss won't be happy about that."

"Neither will mine."

There was another quiet grunt, a head bob. He didn't ask why Varric had sent me down here, and I didn't ask why the Carta had sent their people to keep an eye on the place.

I'd been both relieved and disappointed to discover that there was a kind of 'honor among thieves' in Kirkwall. Sort of.

Relieved in the sense that there were unwritten rules... and disappointed in how pathetic they were.

It went like this; don't ask each other stupid questions, don't interfere with each other's business, don't stupidly turn your back to anyone.

So long as you did those three things, you didn't have to try and murder each other. At least until your business threatened their business, or you became their business. In which case the knives came out no matter what the prior relationship had been.

Right now the Carta didn't want to cross House Tethras, so I was perfectly safe sitting on a roof with one of their agents. So long as I didn't ask him what their interest was, and so long as I didn't go walking with him down any dark alleys.

A low growl and a sharp nod to the left made me glance that way, "Shit. Look at that."

I did, though I flicked my eyes back to the right now and then to make sure he wasn't getting any closer to me.

Another troop of Qunari had come marching down from Lowtown, and they were even more worrying than the rest.

The Arishok himself was out in front, and holy fuck that man was a titan. Qunari were big, sure. They made me and the dwarf next to me look child sized. But the Arishok stood half-a-head taller than the men following behind him, white hair trailing in the sharp wind from the bay. He held one of his weapons in each hand, striding with the fury of someone perfectly willing to kill anyone stupid enough to walk in front of him.

He was scary enough on his own.

The Qunari behind him made him more so.

They marched in perfect unison, their feet all striking the ground in rythym. They moved in pairs, one man in front with poles resting on his shoulders, his partner a few paces behind with the other ends resting on his own.

Armor was draped over the sticks, swaying a little with the movement.

I counted those very carefully, picking out twenty five pairs, for fifty in total. Probably the Arishok's honor guard. That or the ship's marines. Real Qunari heavy infantry. Not the kind of person I'd want to run into in Kirkwall's narrow streets. Especially with how poorly the city's guard was equipped, and with the bulk of the Templars always in the Gallows.

"Six hundred for sure."

"Six hundred for sure." Carta agreed. "They'd roll over the guard like stones goin' downhill."

I couldn't disagree. My last count of the city guard had only about five hundred of them. There were probably about as many Templars, but nearly all of them stayed in the Gallows except for the handful stationed at the Chantry and Viscount's office.

And having seen Qunari in person, I didn't think two-to-one odds were anything close to good enough to fight them. It certainly explained how quickly things went to hell in the second act of the game.

I was going to make a quip when I saw more movement... this time heading our way. "Damn. We've got incoming."

He peered down from the edge, "Damn."

A Qunari with bright red paint covering his chest and face strode down the street, everyone scattering before him. His head was craned back so that he could glare at us; something that became clearer the closer he got.

"Bas! You shall get down from that height!"

"Friendly, isn't he?" I muttered.

Carta snorted. "By the Stone you really don't shut up, do ya?"

I shrugged before raising my voice to a shout, "Why? We've got a great view from here!"

"The Arishok has arrived! He has declared that no spies may linger!"

"Not spies!" Carta chuckled next to me, "Also not a Qunari, so we don't have to listen to your Arishok!"

"Descend at once, bas!"

"Still not a Qunari!" I waved an arm at him, "Get an actual authority figure and we'll consider it!"

I hoped that mind him grind his teeth a little. Or more than a little.

The Qun was right up there with Tevinter on my list of 'true evil' organizations in Thedas. It was like someone had taken all of the worst concepts of communism and thrown them at wall to see what stuck. As a semi-patriotic American I was opposed to them on principle. If there was any justice in this screwed up world, they and the Imperium would wipe each other out and leave the rest of Thedas the better off for it.

The Qunari glared up at us for most of a minute before turning and stomping off. I watched him go, sighed, and tucked my papers away in the bag I'd hidden under my cloak. I'd put a lot of effort into sketching out the compound's layout, and I wasn't about to lose them.

"Time to go."

Carta grunted, his own papers vanishing into the vest he was wearing. He didn't say anythnig else, just backed off without quite turning away from me. I waited patiently, watching him until he vanished down the ladder we'd used to come up, waiting for him to get down to street level.

I lingered for an extra few minutes; both to give him time to move far enough away that he wouldn't think I was tailing him, and to frown at the pair of very obvious guard towers that the Qunari had just started to put up. I hadn't remembered those existing at all. Huh.

"Bas!" The bellow jerked my attention around again, "You shall descend at once and explain your behavior!"

My old friend had made it back in record time, with back-up even. To his left was a Qunari a little shorter than he was, armed with a bow, while a Human guardsman looked miniscule to his right. The archer was already settling an arrow to the string, even if he wasn't quite aiming at me just yet.

The guardsman at least tried to be more convincing, "Viscount's orders! No one can harass the Qunari! Just come down with the dwarf, give us whatever you were writing, and we'll let you go!"

"Dwarf's already gone!" I shouted back, holding both hands up in surrender. "I'll be down in a moment!"

"Now, bas!" The Qunari stabbed a hand forward. "This ladder! Now!"

I brought my hands up a bit more...

...and then I grabbed my hat with one to hold it in place, turned, and ran like hell.

They started shouting in two different languages the moment I vanished from the edge. As if I'd go down there and let the guard take my journal. I'd been writing in Trade, and the sketches would be blatantly obvious. They'd know I was spying on them for someone. Once they realize that, I'd either be interrogated by the guard and dragged off to jail, not a pleasant prospect for an Elven woman, or I'd be dragged off to be interrogated by the Qunari. An even worse prospect for anyone.

Lengthening my short strides, I ran past the ladder that Carta had used, instead running for the far side of the building. There was a narrow alley there, and a leap brought me on the short fall to the building on the other side.

Pain shot up from my ankles at the impact, but I kept my balance by throwing my arms out. The ill-fitting hat promptly lost its battle to stay on my head, fluttering away in the wind as I got moving again. Not about to stop for it, I ran for the stairwell I'd picked out as my alternate way off the rooftops.

Darting down it, I skipped over the homeless man sprawled out at the base of the stairs, stumbled once, then got my legs moving again.

He let out a wheezy laugh, calling after me, "Run rabbit! Run!"

"Fuck you too!" I shouted without looking back, focusing on keeping my balance among the refuse filling the alley.

My brief hope that the Qunari would be content with me leaving vanished when I heard deep throated bellows in Qunlat, followed quickly by a nervous shout that they weren't supposed to head into the city.

I didn't know the docks as well as I knew the west side of Lowtown, but I was sure that I knew it better than a group of newly arrived Qunari.

Darting down a side-run, I ditched my cloak and swung my bag around to carry it in my hands instead of over my shoulder. With the hat and cloak gone, I looked like any elf with a bad haircut darting through the streets on an errand, and I slowed my pace to a quick jog to sell the illusion.

It helped that the Qunari were exactly as subtle as they looked like; The Iron Bull these guys were not. There was a lot of bellowing, stomping, and scaring everyone in the area out of their wits. Within a couple of minutes I was just one of many people clearing out of the area, casting nervous looks over their shoulders as they got away from the terrifying giants.

Picking my way across another few streets, I joined the back of a line struggling their way up a narrow stairwell into Lowtown.

I was mostly relaxed by the time I made it to the more familiar streets. A little frustrated, I hadn't quite finished the map of the compound, but at least I had a good headcount. Picking out their patrol patterns over the next couple of days would be harder than I'd hoped. I'd have to be subtle. Careful.

Chewing on my lip for a few moments, I took the next left, keeping my eyes up and alert. Varric wouldn't pay me early, but giving him what I had right now was better than sitting on it for the rest of the week.

Kirkwall's daylight hours weren't any safer than it's nights. All that changed was the nature of the danger.

At night it was muggers, sadists, and slavers that you needed to worry about. All dangerous, sure, but avoidable if you knew the areas they liked to lurk in. Dodging them was usually as simple as sticking to the main streets, keeping your head up, and moving at speed.

During the day... during the day I was a petite Elven woman in a city of Humans.

And the games hadn't exaggerated the unpleasant mix of racism and fetishism thrown at people like me.

I felt more than one pair of wandering eyes on me as I walked the first few blocks. Some with digust, others with lust, and a couple with an unholy mix of both. I ground my teeth and forced myself not to glare or snap at them. Instead I made a beeline for the first alleyway, cutting into the far emptier side-runs to get around the busy markets.

I made far better time down those, only running into a couple of other Elves on errands for their own employers. We exchanged the quick nods you gave to coworkers, none of us slowing down enough to speak.

A shady deal between a Dwarf and an old-man forced me back into the main streets a little sooner than I'd have hoped, but I was only a block or so from the Hanged Man by then.

What was that rule about car crashes? That most of them happened within a mile of home or something?

Yeah. Same rule applied when you were walking apparently.

I'd just turned the corner, spotting the hanging man when a meaty hand grabbed my left wrist.

Panicked reflex had me twist, rolling my arm towards his thumb, breaking his grip before he could really tighten down. That part went fine; the quick steps I took to get away from the looming man slamming my back into a wall didn't.

"Aw, don't be like that." I didn't recognize him, not strange in a city of sixty thousand. He was big, dressed like a laborer in breeches and an open vest. Considering the size of his beer gut, it wasn't a flattering look.

The smell of alcohol washed over me when he spoke again. "Cute little rabbits like you shouldn't be wandering around alone."

Common sense said to tell him I worked for Varric, duck around him, and run for the door.

Unfortunately for me, I tend to snark and snarl when I'm nervous. Or angry. Or... well, always.

"Go crawl back into a bottle, chubby." I snapped back, quickly moving to my left. "I don't have time for this."

He wasn't drunk enough to be taken off guard by my response. His lips twisted in an ugly sneer, longer strides letting him move to keep pace with me, "You've got a real mouth on you, knife-ear. Someone ought to teach you to keep it shut... or maybe it just needs something to fill it."

My stomach rolled, hands quickly getting my bag back onto a shoulder to free my hands. I made it three more steps, a bare two yards from the Hanged Man's door when he cut in front of me, blocking me off with his body.

One of his arms slammed into the wall, his looming forcing me a quick step back to stay out of his reach. "Fuckin' rabbit. I ain't done talking to you."

"I'm late to report to my boss." I shook my head. "Varri Tethras."

He sneered, blowing more beer breath into my face. "Like that arrogant little fuck would hire a knife-ear. You owe me for that lip you gave me. Ya got coin, or do I get to see if a real man can fit in ya?"

Rage joined the disgust and fear, fingers sliding into a pocket to grasp the hilt of a knife. Dammit. I should have brought my sword with today. "Last warning, fatty. Fuck off."

His fist started to come forward at the same time as I started to draw the blade.

"What is the meaning of this!"

The bellow made us both freeze; his fist awkwardly raised, my knife half out of my pocket. We both glanced aside to see...

...to see Guardswoman Aveline staring daggers at us both, her own sword partially drawn in a clear warning.

Just like Varric, she looked mostly like what I remembered. Just more... real. More alive. Her skin was more than I'd have expected, red hair cut a little shorter, but perfectly recognizable all the same. Between her strong voice and a glare that could peel paint off a wall, it was easy to imagine her as a military officer.

I was too startled on seeing her to speak first, which gave the drunk the opening.

"Knife-eared bitch stole my bag." He growled. "Fucking walked right out of the bar with it."

I hissed like the world's largest cat. "It's my bag you raping piece of shit."

"See?" His fist transformed, letting him jab a finger at me. "Little whore thinks she can talk back to a real person. Offered to spread her legs if I just let her keep my stuff. That's a crime, ain't it?"

"You absolute-"

"Enough!" Aveline barked before I could finish my reply. "You will back off from the elf, Serah. And she will put that knife away."

When we didn't move quickly enough for her, that sword came a for more inches out of its sheathe.

We obeyed, though neither one of us was happy about it. He stepped back a few paces, blocking the bar's door, while I forced myself to return my knife to its hiding place.

"Good. Now, I have heard your side of the story. What is yours?"

The question was clearly directed at me. I took a few deep breaths, let them out, and forced myself to speak calmly. I led with my name, because I'd read somewhere that it was a lot harder to be cruel to someone whose name you knew.

"My name is Maeve. I'm a runner for House Tethras, bringing notes to Varric Tethras." I jerked my chin toward the bar. "He has a suite inside. This man accosted me on the way, and told me to pay him or accept being raped."

"Lying bit-"

"Enough!" The sword came fully out, and the man wisely shut up. "The next one of you that speaks out of turn will feel the flat of my blade, and wake up in the Guard's cells! Do you understand me?"

"...messere." He muttered.

She turned that ferocious glare on me, which I thought was incredibly unfair. Grinding my teeth, I jerked my chin in a silent nod.

"As you cannot agree on the details of what happened, I will ask you both one final time to tell me the truth. You," The sword pointed at the man, "First."

He huffed, paused as if remembering something, then slowly grinned. "She's a whore and a theif. And as an elf, don't her words not count like mine for stuff like this?"

A muscle in Aveline's jaw twitched. "By the letter of the law, it does not."

It was my turn to twitch. Fucking Thedas.

"So..." The man drawled, "Don't the mean you've got to believe me?"

"I have to do no such thing." Aveline won a point from me there... and then promptly lost it when she went on. "It merely means I have to disregard hers. The simply means to resolve this is for me to inspect the bag to determine if you are telling the truth of its ownership. If you are wrong, then I can justify believing you to be wrong in all other matters."

His momentary cleverness was apparently over; the man openly grimaced in an obvious tell.

Not that I was any happier. She was clearly trying to use the letter of the law to get me out of this. I'd have appreciated that, if she hadn't also backed down and admitted that my words counted for nothing in my own defense.

On top of that, letting Aveline root around through my notes would reveal just what I'd been doing for Varric, and spying the Qunari was in direct violation of the Viscount's order to leave them alone. She'd let me off the charges with this idiot, but then arrest me for that.

Even if Varric bailed me out quickly, it wouldn't be good. It would certainly put a damper on our business relationship.

I couldn't think of anything to say that would stop her from taking the bag and looking through it.

I was trying to think of something, anything, when I was saved by an unexpected pair of arrivals.

Guardswoman Brennan walked into the small courtyard, blinking in surprise at the sight in front of her. Beside her was a red-headed man in Templar armor who looked as startled as she was.

"Sergaent Aveline?" Brennan called, quickly approaching. She had deep bags beneath her eyes, and she had to cover a yawn before she could speak again. "Hey Maeve. Another one?"

"Hey Brennan. Ser Thrask." I felt my shoulders slump in relief. Thrask was Varric's main source of intelligence from the Templars, and he'd picked up Brennan as I contact when I'd introduced them. He must have invited them for drinks and cards tonight, and they'd decided to arrive early.

Lucky me.

"Yeah. The usual song and dance."

She gave me a sympathetic look. "Ah. I'll get it cleaned up for ya, no worries."

"Sergeant Brennan." Aveline cut in. "You know this woman?"

Ser Thrask spoke before she could, "We both do, Guardswoman. Maeve is the senior runner and scout for House Tethras, and is the leader of the Alienage's Night Watch."

I wasn't the leader of anything, but I appreciated him talking me up a bit.

Aveline nodded slowly. "She stands accused of theft and prostitution. Do you both vouch for her character?"

"Oy!" The man growled, "They weren't witnesses!"

Everyone else ignored him, and Brennan and Thrask won my undying support by nodding in near-unison.

"Then I consider the matter settled. I would leave this area at once, serah."

He glared at her, then stared at me long enough to make me think he was memorizing my features. Aveline clearing her throat made him grumble and finally stomp off. I slumped in relief, trying to steady out my breathing in the aftermath. The fact that Aveline hadn't arrested him for making false accusations was annoying, but as far as I could tell that wasn't really a thing here.

I'd have to keep an eye out for that bastard for a while.

Thrask's approach had me glance up, shaking my head a little. "Remind me to keep my sword on me, even on daylight jobs."

"I shall do so, my lady." The only good Templar in Kirkwall replied, putting a hand on his breastplate and bowing. "May I escort you inside?"

A quick look showed that Aveline had tugged Brennan to one side, the two of them speaking in low tones. Brennan looked defensive, Aveline annoyed, which probably didn't bode well. I'd have to ask about it later tonight, for now I had confirmation that Aveline was in the Guard already. That was good. Maybe she could lead me to Hawke...

...but that was for later. For tonight, I had a report to deliver, drinks to consume, and cards to play.

"You may, serah."

He chuckled at my choice of honorifics, let me slide an arm through his, and guided me inside.