Author's Note: HELLO! It's SUMMA, SUMMA, SUMMA TIME EVERYONE! I've spent the last week totally relaxing and doing the million things I couldn't do because I work during business hours for MOST PLACES! #teacherprobs

Shout Outs! Thanks for the lovely reviews I've gotten on Chapter 15! WOW! Those were so uplifting.
One of you beautiful people was a guest to this site, and let me tell you, that review came right after I had gotten done teaching a really difficult class so it really brightened my day!
My other review from my new follower, happy-sagara, is also greatly appreciated! I'm so glad you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it! Tbh, Dorian is... difficult to write, so I'm glad I'm doing a decent job with him. :)

Ummm, that's all! Enjoy Chapter 16!

Chapter 16

"So this is Sahrnia?" Marston's gruff voice quavered out, "Couldn't your brother send us somewhere… you know… warmer?"

Elena shook her head as she pulled her horse to a stop. "Erik will send us where we are needed. Regardless of your personal feelings about the weather, Marston…" Elena dismounted and began to unpack her horse. "Let's set up camp and then we can get to exploring the region. Erik wants us to look into the town and mines in particular."

"Does he think we can help the villagers regain control of the mines, or does he want us to do more reconnaissance?" Reeves asked as she began to clear snow from the ground where she would set the women's tent up.

Elena shrugged, pitching in to help her friend, "I suppose it's a little bit of both. His instructions were vague at best."

Porteur laughed as he began the same chore for the men, "I doubt he cares more about the villagers than the silverite and dawnstone mines! Any reasonable leader would focus on garnering supplies to fight the enemy before helping the villagers."

"Maybe it is possible to do both simultaneously?" Elena replied, unrolling the ground covering for her and Reeves's tent.

Porteur grunted with effort, "Possibly. Though, from what I remember of this area the mines are really the only thing worth anything around here… if you exclude Suledin Keep, that is."

"Suledin Keep?" Reeves queried from her spot opposite Elena.

Porteur nodded, shouldering the ropes to bring the tent into an upright position, "Yes, my dear, it is Elvish. However, it has fallen into great disrepair over the ages. I suppose if a force like the Inquisition or the Templars got ahold of it… they could transform it back into some semblance of its former glory." He and Marston both pulled on their ropes at the same time and erected their tent. They pounded their stakes into the frozen ground with some difficulty. "You ladies need help?" Porteur stood, stretching himself in a manly fashion and winking at Reeves as he did so.

Reeves rolled her eyes and finished pounding her own stake into the ground, "No, we've got it under control." She told him, flashing him a brilliant smile.

The village of Sarhnia was quiet, not many people resided there. A few wandered about muttering to each other about items and loved ones lost to the mines and the Red Templars. Elena couldn't figure out what had happened to turn this, from what-she-gathered, once-prosperous town to the sad, run-down group of buildings it was now. The noble woman who seemed to be the most in-charge, blamed the Red Templars for taking over the area so quickly and ferociously. Elena had surveyed the surrounding area with unease, glad to only have to hold it as long as it took for Scout Harding to arrive with more of the Inquisition's soldiers. Her small squadron was enough to fully-secure the village, but she felt unsure about the surrounding land. The vast hills spread out and around the village creating a valley. The village itself was situated near the river, which had frozen over completely in the winter months and had yet to thaw. The buildings were run-down and ramshackle at best. She wondered how anybody managed to eke out a living here. Why would they? She thought, using her toe to push experimentally at a door support only to watch the whole thing come crashing down in a shower of soot and snow. It's depressing here.

"What a shame… Sarhnia used to be such a cute town." Porteur mused, "My parents used to bring us here on holiday sometimes to play in the river and hike in the mountains around the mines while they managed their business arrangements in the area."

"Your parents had business arrangements here?" Reeves asked as she stepped around a pile of fallen rocks.

Porteur nodded, "Oh yes. They had invested a good bit of money into the creation of the mines. They don't any longer since they have died. My elder brother now manages their estate and he says he sold the mine holdings back to the original owners long before the Breach and the apparent ruin of this town."

"Interesting. I forget you're from Orlais sometimes." Marston chimed in, "You don't really have the accent."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Elena had moved ahead of the group, looking for villagers. Where there was a village, there should have been villagers, and yet she did not see any at present. Though, the lack of people would account for the disrepair of the place. Finally they stumbled onto a set of two people whispering around a sputtering campfire. In the distance, Elena could hear the garbled sounds of wolves fighting something. She cast an expert eye over her companions and motioned for them to spread out and form a perimeter around the campfire. Cautiously she approached the fire pit and stood in front of the two people.

The woman stood and backed up between the make-shift benches that surrounded the blaze. "Oh my! Inquisition! When did you arrive?" She looked nervously about herself, wringing her hands together. "Torman, you didn't tell me the Inquisition was due to arrive today." She scolded the man sitting nearby in a false tone.

The man, Torman, shrugged as if he couldn't be bothered with things like soldiers coming suddenly into camp, "Didn't know they were… I bet Michele will be glad to see them."

Elena coughed, "We didn't make our arrival public knowledge. The Inquisition has permission from the Empress to have a presence here."

"See, Bethilda? Nothing to worry about. The Empress gave them permission." Torman told the woman motioning for her to be seated, "So, relax."

Bethilda nodded and sat, though she was still obviously nervous, "What do you want from us? We're just poor villagers trying to make it through the last bit of Winter."

Elena sighed and sank slowly onto her haunches, holding out her hands to the flames, "We don't want anything from you. We just wanted to make our presence known. We are here to help protect you from whatever is going on up at the mines."

"The mines?" Torman grunted, laying a hand on the bench next to Bethilda, "There's not been any mining there for quite some time now. So we won't need protecting. The Inquisition can just go on back to wherever it is you came from."

"Th-that's right!" Bethilda piped up. "You just go on back where you came from and leave us here."

Elena shook her head and stood, clearly these people were willing to say whatever they felt was necessary to get her to leave. They were useless for information, "My men and I cannot leave until we've done our duty. You mentioned Michele? Where is he? I'd like to speak to him." Torman pointed away out of one of the few remaining gates to the village. It had been fortified with wooden cheval de frise. Clearly they don't need protecting… She ordered some men to stay behind and guard the village, others were to return to camp and guard that, she took her three companions with her to go and seek out Michele.

They found him dragging his blade out of the corpse of a rather large wolf. Elena called out to him. He looked up, registered that they were Inquisition, and wiped his blade on a handkerchief before sliding it back into its sheath. Michele wore the armor of an Orelsian Chevaliar. He had medium-length blonde hair that was swept back from his forehead and tucked behind his ears. Elena couldn't help but think that if Cullen had been born in Orlais… this man might be exactly what he would have grown into. She giggled to herself as they came within speaking distance of each other.

"Greetings, Inquisition!" he called in a thick Orlesian accent, "Are you here to save the town?"

Elena shook her head, ignoring the muffled groans from her companions, "Only in part, I'm afraid."

"Ah, well then, how may I be of service to you?"

"We are here to help bolster the village's fortifications and gather information. I see you have already started on the first half of that, some of my men have added to your efforts already." She gestured behind her where a few soldiers were standing around, surveying the scene with critical eyes. "Do you have any information for the Inquisition?"

Michele smiled, spreading his arms wide, "Let's see… There are Red Templars hanging about all-over the place. Though, their numbers do seem to be the most concentrated around the old mine, which has suddenly become operational again. There's a demon residing in Suledin Keep, all attempts I've made at vanquishing it have been foiled. And there seems to be an increasing problem with the local wolves."

"Anything about Sharnia in particular?"

Michele shrugged, "The villagers seem to be disappearing, and no one really knows where to. Most think they've just left the area, others believe they've been taken to the mines."

Elena turned to look at her companions, "I say we go investigate the mines. It seems to be where most of these troubles are stemming from." Marston told her, leaning on his great axe causally.

"If there really are villagers trapped in the mine, we should work to release them." Reeves added, "The demon in Suledin Keep is something the Inquisitor should handle personally."

Elena nodded, "Agreed. Porteur?"

Porteur saluted her, "To the mines, my lady!" he said grandly dropping his hand and marching away from the group in a mockery of a double-step. Everyone fell into step behind him. As they headed up the path, they began to encounter great spires of red Lyrium protruding from the ground like grasping hands. This caused them more than a little bit of worry as they all skirted around the spikes, making sure to give them a wide berth. It felt like that the red Lyrium was actually attempting to reach out and grab them. After a short while they came upon a small camp surrounded by yet more cheval de frise and in the middle of it a cluster of Red Templars. Everyone halted and looked to Elena for advice. She motioned for them to climb around the outside edge of the camp to try and avoid a fight. As she edged along a rock ledge, trying her hardest not to jostle any snow or rocks down the side of the hill they had climbed, she made a mental note of the camp's location and the number of red Templars inside of it. It appeared to be a fairly new camp, with no tents set up, so if her brother could arrive soon or even send in reinforcements, the Inquisition would certainly be able to take the camp with little trouble and turn it into one of their own.

Elena edged onto more solid footing and led the way inside a tunnel-like cave. It opened up into a cavern filled with icicles and rock features. On the sides she could see outcroppings of bloodstone and dawnstone peeking at her, just waiting to be mined. Now, was not the time to mine anything, but she noted the presence of them for her report. Luckily, in that cramped space, they didn't run into any more red Templars. She was glad of this because she wasn't sure what they would face if they did. After another short time travelling up a narrow path outside of the cavern, they encountered a larger camp of Templars. This one had been well-fortified. Clearly the Templars had been here longer. Following the same line of thinking from the previous camp, they edged along the outside of this one as well. Once again, they were surprisingly lucky to avoid conflict. Elena was beginning to get suspicious of this fortuitous turn of events.

"Don't you think it's strange that we've been able to avoid any actual fighting up to this point and we've passed two Red Templar camps?" Elena hissed to Marston as they walked further away from the second camp.

Marston shrugged casually, "I'm not one to question a blessing from the Maker when it is given to me."

"Well, I think it's strange." Reeves replied, pushing Marston out of their loose formation, "You should be more wary. Just because we haven't been in trouble yet doesn't mean that it isn't going to happen."

"Exactly! For all we know the Templars know we're here and are letting us go by so we will drop our guards and they can kill us." Porteur added.

"Or capture us." Elena mused, "That would be worse than killing us. I'd rather die than get captured… again."

"Worried about your reputation?" Marston joked, "Seeing as your reputation is that you tend to get captured and all… I don't think you've much to worry about." He laughed openly at his own poor sense of humor. Elena and the others grew silent, deciding not to rise to his baiting remarks. After a moment Marston sighed, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend anyone. I was just trying to lighten the mood."

"This isn't really the time for a 'light mood.'" Porteur told him, "But we accept your apology. Be more tactful in the future, please."

After some time travelling and two close calls, the group reached the mines. Everyone looked to Elena, waiting on instructions. The entrance was heavily guarded, but from what she knew from her study of the region, the mine was cut deep into the hillsides and had several vantage points from which they could gather information. There was no way that her small band of warriors, efficient though they were, would be able to stand up against the red menace before them. Stealth and reconnaissance was all that this particular trip would require. They could return the next day to rescue any villagers they discovered with the rest of the squadron. Until then, it was time to spy.

"All right, here's the plan." Elena picked up a stout twig and started sketching the shape of the mines in the snow, "We are going to follow the rim of the mine. Once we find a suitable location we will observe and report. There is to be no engaging with the enemy. As on the way up here, we are far out-numbered and with their… abilities we are also out-matched." She explained, outlining her plan on the map as she did so, "I'm not sure how accurate this map is, but it's the best I can do from a memory of an old map. If you need to add anything, speak up." When no one actually did speak up, she continued, "I want to come in to the main quarry pit here." She drew a mark where she thought would be a good location for them to hide and observe, "We'll go in fast and quiet, get the information we need, and then get the hell out of there. Maker willing no one will know we were even there."

"For someone who doesn't necessarily believe in the Chant, you sure talk about the Make a lot." Marston joked in a whisper as he straightened up and drew his battle axe, hefting it in his hands thoughtfully.

Elena and the others stood, drawing their weapons as well, "Just because I don't like the Chantry… that doesn't mean I don't believe in the Maker." She whispered back, "Now shush up. We're moving."

It had been several hours of staring down into an empty pit. Elena's legs were cramped and stiff with cold. Her entire lowers half was soaked with melted snow. Her fingers seemed to be literally frozen around the leather-wrapped hilt of her sword. With a sigh of meatal against leather, she slid her sword back into its sheath. The others, taking their cue from her, also put their weapons away. There was no sense in remaining armed while they were hidden and quiet. It just caused their hands to ache anyway. Down below, Elena heard the beginnings of movement. She and Reeves moved closer to the edge of the pit and looked down. Red Lyrium sprouted from the sheer walls of the mine. It was even piled neatly onto wagons here and there. In other places, it was simply stacked, waiting to be transported to a wagon. Once it separated from the rock it took on a dull, darker red color. Elena couldn't help but be reminded of the floor of a butcher's shop looking at the slick material lying in the wagons. She swallowed nervously as the activity moved into the center of the pit.

"This one says he can't work anymore." A Red Templar said, shoving a plainly-clothed villager to the ground in front of a man who was wearing some of the most outrageous armor Elena had ever seen. Was that armor made of Red Lyrium? "What do you want me to do with him, sir?"

The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "He can become a source for us. It's the only thing really in these situations."

The red Templar laughed, dragging the villager away and down one of the many branching corridors towards a different pit, "We'll make you red yet." His voice drifted ominously back to Elena. She looked over at Reeves who was visibly disgusted as well. The elf shifted her weight as if she were going to leave, but stopped as a caged cart full of new villagers rattled into the pit. Once the scraggly horses had been taken elsewhere, the man in the strange armor walked around the cart, considering the villagers with great care. At last he pointed to one. A different Templar stepped forward, unlocked the gate, and forcibly pulled the villager out of the cart. The villager stumbled and fell in front of the strangely-armored knight and stayed there, cowering against the snow-speckled gravel.

The knight nudged the villager with his boot, speaking too low for Elena to hear. She looked to Reeves and cupped a hand around her ear, pointing downwards. Reeves shook her head, she couldn't hear either. Elena sighed and scooted back from the edge, motioning for the others to follow her as she exited their hiding spot. Carefully, she wound her way around towards where the Red Templar had dragged the villager who couldn't work off to. The next pit was secluded from the rest with only the one corridor leading to it. Elena and her companions skirted the edge quickly and quietly, doing their best not to send any snow or other debris skittering down the sheer walls of the mine lest they alert someone to their presence and end their streak of luck. As they arrived at their destination, they could see the villager being chained to a wooden wall by the Red Templar. The villager was struggling against his manacles, but to no avail. He weakened quickly and slumped into the restraints, the picture of defeat. Beside her, Elena felt Reeves shift uneasily, heard her breathing become ragged. Down in the pit, the Red Templar returned to the villager with a goblet filled with some smoking substance. The villager renewed his struggles, this time adding in some shouted protests. Elena's stomach knotted. She gripped the hilt of her sword so tightly her knuckles cracked.

The Red Templar, using one hand, tilted the struggling villager's head back, gripping his jaw so that it was partially open. In a swift, practiced motion, he upended the contents of the goblet into the villager's mouth. Then, he dropped the goblet and clamped that hand over the villager's mouth. The liquid poured from the villager's nose as he attempted to breathe and refused to swallow at the same time. It was thick and viscous, a bright, glowing red that steamed in the frozen air. The villager shook his head frantically from side to side, kicking out at the Templar, who deftly shifted his stance around to avoid the flying feet. After a minute or so of this, the villager coughed and the Red Templar released him, wiped his hands and headed off back down the corridor.

Elena and her companions sat in tense silence, waiting to see what would happen as the villager continued to shake and writhe below them. Reeves moved into a kneeling position, her bow in one hand, eyes fixed on the villager below. Porteur and Marston moved behind Reeves, most likely so they wouldn't have to witness what was occurring. Suddenly, the villager began to shriek. He pulled at the manacles, lifting himself up from the ground in his efforts to break them. He continued his blood-curdling shrieking as his body started to convulse in reaction to whatever had been poured down his throat. Elena back-pedaled, horrified. She tugged on Reeves's shirt sleeve as she moved. Reeves shook her off, stood, and in one fluid motion, drew an arrow from her quiver, knocked it, and fired it. The arrow flew swiftly down into the pit, lodging itself into the villager's eye socket, silencing him. Elena stared at what her soldier had done. She turned, reached out, and slapped Reeves smartly across the face. The sound of the slap echoed slightly against the hills around them. Reeves tugged her jacket down further on her body and nodded curtly.

"Inquisition!" A deep, guttural voice came from below them, echoing up the mine walls, amplified by the natural acoustics.

"Run!" Elena barked, but it wasn't necessary. They were already running as a unit. Reeves led their way back through the hills surrounding the mines. Porteur and Marston followed her closely, and Elena tailed them by a few steps. They were passing through a stand of dilapidated houses and broken forest at the top of a hill when she saw it… the flicker of armor in the watery sunlight. She pushed forward, throwing her arms out and shoving her three companions down the hillside, she saw them go tumbling downwards faster than armored knights would be able to run, and then she felt hands lock around her waist. She twisted, pulling a knife from her belt and stuck it in her attacker's forearm. They dropped her. She got to her feet quickly, pulling her sword from its sheath as she did so. She readied herself for a fight, shifting her shield from her back onto her arm. The Templars circled her loosely, giving her plenty of space, but not so much she felt an escape attempt wise.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" The man with the strange armor came forward, the Templars separating neatly for him. Elena settled her shield and spun her blade, choosing to remain silent. "You Inquisition scum have finally found your way to Emprise du Lion, I see." He said, walking closer to her and smirking. "It's too bad we made it here before you. You may have actually done this sleepy little town some good." He laughed, the Templars joined in.

"I don't see how that's funny." Elena replied, "Forcing innocent people to slave in your mine until they're too exhausted to work and then… I don't know what you do after that, but I know it's torture!"

The man shrugged his shoulders, still smirking, "And I suppose you were sent here to stop me?" Elena didn't say anything. The man quirked his head to one side, eyes narrowing as he continued to move closer to her. "You know… you look familiar to me." He stepped closer. Elena jabbed out with her sword, scratching it against his armor. He drew his own blade and engaged with her. The duel was quick, lasting only moments before Elena was disarmed. The man dropped his sword, swooped in, and grasped her roughly by the throat, "Don't toy with me, girl." He hissed into her face, his gloved fingers digging into the soft parts of her cheeks and throat. He tightened his grip, using his weight and height to lean over her, forcing her to the ground. Elena choked, dragging in ragged, shallow breaths of air around his hold. Her hands gripped onto his wrist and dug between his fingers, trying to pry him off of her. He laughed at her efforts, the sound had a harsh, manic edge to it that belied his inner insanity. Elena stopped fighting and stared defiantly back into his ruthless eyes. Realization crossed his features, and his grip loosened, "I know who you are…." He breathed out, "You're the Inquisitor's sister!" He jerked her roughly up to her feet again, still holding onto her face and neck. He brought her close to his body, the other hand snaking up and into her hair, tugging cruelly at the back of her head, tilting it fully back. She grunted as he let go of her face and relied on the grasp he had on her hair to control her. "We had heard rumors the Inquisitor had a sister in his army! And he's sent her straight to us! Let's have some fun with her, yeah?"

Author's Note: OH SNAP! Get ready for a shift!