The night shadows were her only cover as she stalked through Hightown.

Bethany was taking the chance that most others would deem impossible. A chance that could get her caught by the night lurkers, smugglers, the guardsmen, or worse, the Templars.

"Gather yourself." Bethany had never stepped foot out at night. Her brothers brought anything that she would have needed.
Ducking behind a pillar, she peered around the corner, two-night guards patrolling the area. She covered her heart to still it. Sparse light from the torches helped to hide her, but would the shadows be enough? This was Hightown, she could get caught, and where she needed was well across the vast courtyard.

"Bethany?" A timber call out to the sneaking woman.

A shrill of fright escaped the young woman's mouth, "Let me go!" before clamping her hand over her mouth, swallowing down her fright.

"Ease, ease. It is just I, Okhor." The elven noble held the flailing woman. "She is safe. I just startled her. Apologies." He waved the guards off. "Bethany, my apologies."

If Bethany's heart was beating any harder, it would beat right out of her chest, running away certainly. "My Lord. Y-you nearly sent me to the Maker." She shivered, breathing hard, nerves stood on end.

Okhor chuckled. "Please, just Okhor. What are you doing sneaking around Hightown? Were you looking for someone? Have you lost something?" he asked, checking if she was unharmed.

Bethany shrugged, unsure if she should say something. "You could say that. But I do not wish to burden you with it." Looking around the man towards her target destination.

"No burden at all. Tell me what is it?" Okhor implored, gesturing as they walked towards the Swiftleaf home.

Bethany sighed, and told all of what happened with her mother and her uncle constantly quibbling, of the will that was not in her uncle Gamlen's possession, and of the slavers who own the Amell home.

Before they could touch the door, Okhor spun on his heel, small fangs glinting in the firelight. "Let's go to the estate." He stated pointedly with a growl.

He moved with such haste Bethany hurrying behind the tall man, struggling to keep up. "Ok- Okhor, a moment, my Lord!" she trotted behind with a harsh quiet call.

There was one home that always made the hairs on the back of Okhor's neck stand on end. The home was not quite in view. It seemed abandoned.

Okhor reached out to bang on the door, but halted when the small human woman barred his path. Out of breath, she panted with her arms open wide. "My Lord, I do not wish to see you risking your life. We don't know how many there could be in there."

The boy looked down at her, then up at the door. "That matters not." He gently tugged her behind him.

"Stop!" she whispered harshly, looking to see if there were others about. "I have another way in." Placing herself between him and the door once again.

With a show of the cellar key from her hip purse. "Lead the way." Okhor grunted.

The Paladin of Tunare that is Okhor, son of a King, Maric Theirin, saw the cruel tortures DVinn and Emperor Crush inflicted. Holding the good people of Faydwer as slaves.

The orcs of Faydark, allied under the banner of Emperor Crush, The Crushbone Tribe, brought to life by the God of War himself, Rallos Zek.
The lives and livelihood on the outskirts of Kelethin's treetop home suffer from frequent attacks. Pouring from their stronghold palace droves of the mighty battle ready army, Crushbone.
The army of Crushbone is deadly, great military strategists. Taking prisoners who raided too close, forced to do whatever their cruel taskmasters wish.

Waged a constant state of war with the defending armies of Felwithe, Kelethin, and Kaladim. Okhor saw mines that ran deep in the mountain they had carved for themselves, centuries before even his great grand sire was born.

Okhor saw men and women were nothing but skin and bones, dying where they stood, whipped if they didn't work faster. They sent newly captured people to the mines, to work in the pits, or to be made as sport or playthings to these demented, foul creatures of Rallos Zek's design.

To make matters worse; The Crushbone Tribe have allied themselves with the Indigo Brotherhood of Neriak, the Guild of Warriors from the Teir'dal city.
Amongst them, a highly notorious legend sits going over plans to take over Faydwer. They can often find the Ambassador of the Dark Elves in consultation with Emperor Crush himself.
Hushed spies that cloaked themselves would bring back this vital information to what the Dark elves and Orcs are doing in the woods at all.

Okhor's thoughts skew as they searched the lowest storage room of the Amell estate, finding nothing at all. His mind was solely on the slavers he wishes to vanquish.

"We need to check the other floor." Bethany said as they searched the room they were in. "The vault is not down here." She whispered when she neared the noble.

With a nod, Okhor and she crept up to the next floor. Chains he could hear rattle with whimpers of bound and gagged bodies dragged along the floor.
With a growl, Okhor summoned a spell. As he slipped past Bethany in a blur, a hammer formed of golden glowing light in his hand as he crushed the skull of a dark clothed slaver.

Blinding light danced from his palm. When his hand gripped the face of another, he sent flying into the wall hard. Flames coated the hammer when he struck, breaking the ribs of a slaver coming to aid the others. Bethany did what she was able, sending spells that froze on impact while adding weight that was hefted like a child's toy in the hands of the tall elf.

A sound crack against the jaw, killing the man instantly.

Okhor saw no enemies more but kept an ear out in case there were more coming. Surely the few he fought were not the only ones in the home. "Bethany, please search for a key. Worry not. You all are free." Okhor said, untying a girl pointing her towards the door they came from to freedom. They had the floor above them to check as they let the captives go.

Unlocking the cells with a key she found, ushering them hurriedly to the door. "This way, hurry, please." Bethany checked them over as quickly as she could, directing them to the cellar exit she came in earlier.

"What is going on here?" called a robed man, coming down with a long staff in hand. "You better not be damaging my property, I will have your-" Seeing several of the women and men once held captive no longer in his possession, to face the tall star white blond elf raise to his full height. "Who are you?"

The words the man spoke, the conditions the people were in, he and Bethany freed, Okhor snarled. "I should also ask you the same. Captured these people? You will never touch another living soul as long as I live." With a roar, Okhor charged after the slave owner.

More joined the fight as the two engaged in battle. Bethany rushed to where the Lord fought a spell to block one from coming to his left. She headed for the stairway, and through the open door, she needed to go. Bethany had specific orders to find the vault if there was trouble without hesitation.
Okhor was so focused on the fight did not see one slip off after the young mage. Just as he swung the hammer down once more heard a scream that shattered the quiet.

"Bethany!" Okhor bolted to the next floor. The young Lord searched for Bethany, who lay in a pool of blood with a body lying next to her and one standing, reaching for the motionless girl. "Get away from her!" Okhor ordered.

A dagger flashed right at the tall elf and cut his cheek. He did not move. This alarmed the stranger, another that pierced his shoulder. He did not flinch. He stalked closer, seeing the figure half his height backpedal.

Taking the dagger from his shoulder threw it down at the stranger's feet. "Bethany?" he turned his attention and cupped her cheek? He felt for a pulse and it was weak. His right hand glowed brightly, a white gold. When he went to press his hand to Bethany's side, felt a push to stop him. The stranger was tugging on his tunic, Okhor swung his arm, sending the stranger skidding to the ground as they were an annoyance.

He then pressed his hand firmly to Bethany's side as soft, lurid tones poured from his lips, head down, and eyes closed. He lay hands to heal the wound she received. Bethany gasped, coughing for air.

"Hey, hey. You are safe, all is well. Rest." Seeing Bethany settle, he then turned his attention to the stranger. "You almost caused me to not save her life. Who are you?" Looking into the shadow of the tall box that the other living figure was crouched.

The stranger stared at what they beheld, green eyes looking in shock into the warm aquamarine eyes of the man before them. 'He didn't want to hurt her. He saved her. Wait, can he see me?'

Okhor sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned to scoop Bethany into his arms. "If you are not willing to tell me fine, it seems you rescued my friend, so I will leave you with your head on your shoulders."

And he walked on without looking back. The small stranger looked to see a crumpled paper on the floor where the human girl once lay. Gathering it, she hurried after the pair.

Sabrae Clan encampment.

The day they arrived at the Dalish camp took them well away from the traveled path on Sundermount.

"Hold, shemlen! We do not welcome your kind amongst the Dalish." Called an elven guard.

Lineatus held his hands up in defense. "I am not here to cause you trouble." With a small nod. "I am here to speak with your Keeper."

The guard narrows his eyes, looking at the guard next to him before addressing the human before him again. "There is nothing here for a human."

The female guard next to him stilled her clansmen. "I believe the Keeper was expecting you."

"The Keeper was expecting you… a shemlen? I thought they would be an elf." The male guard looked questioningly at Lineatus. Looked over past the man when he heard others coming, going to draw his weapon.

"Lineatus. Look what we found!" The girls ran up to Hawke, showing him a small pouch of berries and fruits they gathered. "Ah! Da Atish'an." The twins bowed their mahogany heads.

"They refused to leave them." Carver trotted up with a sack of his own.

Placing his weapon back at his side, the guards stood, stunned. The girls handed them the gifts. Unsure as to regard the greeting. "He- let me get the Keeper." He left, shaking his head.

Lineatus looked at the girls. "You speak their language?"

"Not really, our mother learned, and she taught it to us. It tickles our ears to hear it." Ruroni snorted.

"They…" Ruroni thought to put what she will say tactfully. "Are not like us. We are of the wood as they are. But their language… Broken. Phrases not fully structured, as we speak, you have heard. They don't have that. It saddens me. We know two forms."

"Oh?" Hawke nodded. He knew nothing of elves, even having several playmates growing up. They played as children had, seeing nothing but another playmate. Of his older self, he has learned the differences. Finding that the Swiftleafs and the elves he has known and seen differ still.

Moments later, the same guard came waving them into their camp. The camp was busy, laughter, children playing, the older ones doing various things, crafts for daily use or items being repaired. Sawing and hammering, the sound of the Halla baying, beautiful in their white coats, Tenkou went to meet the white deer. Carver went with the younger twin as Ruroni followed Hawke.

Huddled, a group watches over a campfire, pausing their crafting before returning to work.
Ruroni bowed her head with a smile and a wave. "So, Lineatus, have you taken a liking to my brother?" Ruroni said as she looked about the camp.

Flushed, the human became. "N-no?"

"Was that a question? Because I have seen how you look at him."

Hawke sputtered, trying and failing at which posture he should take. His arms refused to cross over his chest and he would be damned if he wasn't just thinking about the handsome man.

"Your ears are red, by the way."

Hawke covered his eyes, trying to calm himself. The small Bard refused to ease on the teasing. Standing, feeling proud of herself, a bright smile on her face. Lineatus chuckled, refusing to agree or disagree. The man was well above his station. And what if he didn't reciprocate? What then?

"Worry not, I teased him too." She nudged him. "I'll put in a good word for you. Brother."

"My Lady, don't. I couldn't…" Hawke started.

Ruroni looked at him questioningly. "Why not? Look there, your brother fawning over Dove, so is another fellow. Huh." She had a thought about that, then contacted Zevran.

Just as Hawke eyed his sibling and hers, the Keeper came in greeting. "Andaran atish'an. I am Keeper Marethari. Let me look at you." Taking Hawke's hands in hers and turning them over. "We were expecting you," the Keeper said.

"Thank you. Oh, I was told to give you this amulet." Lineatus pulled the necklace from his hip pouch and handed it to the Keeper.

As Marethari looked over the necklace amulet, she turned it over several times. It held old magics that she could feel in her small hands. Now it felt different, but the magic it held was still in place. "Tell me how this burden fell on you, child?"

"My family's lives saved," Lineatus said with a solemn smile. "This was a small payment for us arriving safely." He told what had happened as the Keeper invited them to have a seat. Once more he told of nearly losing his sister to the Darkspawn as they were making their Lothering escape.

Marethari nodded, smiling as she listened. He had indeed had a long journey. It did not diminish the light that she saw within him. Looking at the elven girl next to him, she questioned her as well. "You da'len, what brings you?"

Ruroni turned to face the Keeper. "I have come looking for my lost sister. Deedolett."

"Ah, I am sorry there is no one by such a name amongst us."

Ruroni looked at Hawke and sighed. "Thank you."

Turning to Hawke once again, she pointing in the direction on the mountain path and gave him instruction on who he would meet there. "It takes part in a ritual performed on a mountain-top altar. In the rite, a song In Uthenera, a poem for the departed. Do this and return it to me the debt shall be repaid."

"Will you teach me the rite?" Hawke looked at her expectantly.

With a shake of her head, she smiled softly. "I have instructed my First to perform the ritual. You will find her on the path waiting. I pray Mythal watches over you."

"Thank you. We will return shortly. Ruroni?" Hawke gestured for her to go before him as his brother and Tenkou were following shortly after.

The Keeper sighs, then calls after Hawke. "Child? Another thing, before you go…" Marethari explains to Hawke that Merrill needed to leave, asking if he could be so kind as to take her with him when they returned from wherever they came.

"I will." Hawke turned to catch up to the others.

Marethari wiped a tear that fell from her eye before checking over the others in the camp.