Oliver
It was pitch black on the street outside the estate of Magister Borontius. Ressa when she came to gather with them had mentioned that they had to do this night specifically because the Magister was out touring his holdings in the East, getting a report on the Qunari advance.
Yet he'd be home any day now so there time was limited if they wanted to act and prove that the Magister was a member of the Venatori.
Which is why it was so vexing that it was just the three of them. Despite the time, despite telling her of the importance of what they were doing, Aleia had not deigned to grace them with her presence.
Oliver stretched out with his bow and once more swept the street beyond.
"Could something have happened to her?" Ressa asked.
Oliver's shoulders twitched. "A great many things. But she is capable."
Ressa squared her shoulders and glanced down the street, the points of her ears tenting the hood around her.
"Sorry I'm late."
Aleia's voice made Oliver leap halfway out of his skin.
"Where have you been?" He asked her, trying not to sound judgmental, and framing it as worry.
"I had to make sure we were alone. I thought I saw a group trailing me." She replied glancing over her shoulder for emphasis.
"Very well."
She glanced up at the muti story building across from them. "So what's the plan?"
The three of them all turned to look at Ressa, waiting. The first time Oliver truly felt uncomfortable by this whole experiment, it wasn't his operation, he and his group was acting as a tag along, a replacement for the Shadow Dragons Ressa had lost.
"His office should be on the east side of the building, second floor. It would be where he would keep all of his most sensitive documents. Right now if our intelligence is right he took most of his staff with him and his guard force, though there will be a few people keeping up on the upkeep. Their quarters however will be on the north side of the building."
Oliver bowed his head, "lead on."
Ressa did so, sauntering over to a side entrance that must've been meant for servants.
"Alright, Aleia, Daggone, watch the perimeter. Keep an eye on things out here. Me and Ressa will raid the office of the Magister and see what he has to do."
"You sure, Oliver? You trust her enough to be alone with her?"
Ressa's head snapped towards Aleia.
"I'm sure. There are four of us so it does make sense that we go in two by two."
The Templar nodded before stalking off with the Elven warrior following in her wake.
"Shall we?" Oliver remarked dryly.
The two of them dove into the estate. It was quiet in there and he doubted anyone was up and around right now, only a few sconces with fire.
"Come on." Ressa gestured.
The endless expanse of empty carpet and little in the way of travelers it was easy to be in a false sense of security.
"Why me?" He asked glancing out at her from under his hood.
"Why you what?" She asked, a small smile playing across her face indicating she knew exactly what he was implying.
He rolled his eyes, "why do you want to recruit me for the Shadow Dragons?"
"You mean other then the fact I'm down a couple of men and you are a capable warrior Oliver Mercar?" Ressa smirked.
"Yes, it doesn't take a genius to recognize you are seeking me out specifically...and how did you find out my secret?"
Ressa looked like she was about to continue teasing him but his expression grew positively murderous.
She sobered, "Well to be honest we have a current Shadow who used to serve in your unit. Plus a really good private investigator. I doubt many in the Venatori would put two and two together."
He nodded.
"As for why we want you...you are special Oliver. Connected. Capable."
He arched an eyebrow at her, "my position in the Magisterium?"
"And more." She gestured animatedly. "You are the son of a magister. A son of someone a mage. You've lived that life, you have been there...but you didn't develop magical talent yourself. You have seen the excesses of the Imperium...and yet you are a patriot. You still believe in making Tevinter a better place. That it can be saved."
"Do I?" His voice grew gravelly.
"What do you mean?" Ressa looked as though she were hesitant of him.
He snorted. "I don't even know. The problems with the Imperium. Who do I trust? Where do I go? Is it the Templars? The Magisterium? The Shadow Dragons? Even if I do find evidence that Borontius is corrupt where do I send it? I just have to hope the Imperium will do the right thing I guess.
"But in the end you may assume I have noble ambitions...but I started this crusade not for some noble ambition to save my city...to save the Imperium. But out of revenge. Of trying to get even to the Venatori for blackmailing a woman I was falling in love with."
"Oh Oliver, do you really think the Shadow Dragons aren't formed out of our own petty desires? Out of guilt over our failures?"
She left him alone with the thought.
"We're here," she nodded towards the door.
He squared his shoulders and dove into the office. The room had the overbearing opulence that one would expect from a Magister of the Tevinter Imperium.
And yet Oliver detected a facade in it. It looked a little too pristine, a little too put together. Within the decorations and the pieces of Tevinter artwork he recognized military implements. Signs of a battle mage. Signs of Tevinter pride leaking into the very wood work.
"The desk," Ressa nodded.
And there it was. Stacks of parchment on it neatly folded into several piles.
"Watch the door." Oliver ordered lightly.
"I think I will help you. There is a lot here."
They both dove into the pile. Checking the desk and shuffling papers around, they didn't know how much time they would have to get the job done so they skimmed. A lot of financial reports, reports on the war, trade agreements, and letters from other Magisters. A dozen different pieces and he cursed Borontius's lack of organization.
And yet what else was I expecting?
After a scant few minutes his eye grazed across something 'the file on H Mercar'.
House Mercar? Mine?
His fingers hesitated for a moment before he reached out with a clawed hand to grasp the file. On the cover page was a dossier on his father complete with a mage's sketch which showed his father with striking accuracy and realism complete with a physical description and known associates.
He could tell there were more files behind it so he leafed through it, his thumb flicked through them with speed. Until he got about halfway through...and he hissed.
After a second with his hands frozen over the page Ressa's voice interupted his thoughts, he had almost forgotten she was there. "Oliver?"
"I'm adopted." He had nothing else left to say.
"What?" Ressa came over to his shoulder and looked down at the same file. A list of letters between him and Magister Erimond.
"Well, now I have a reason why my magic never took. I'm not a native born Mercar."
"Hmm."
Oliver rolled his eyes, "having second thoughts recruiting me for your gang?"
Ressa snorted. "No. Whatever else you still have skills. But I wonder if we can connect this to the Venatori...and it does not seem to."
"Always the mission?" Oliver asked.
"Indeed." Ressa nodded.
Somehow he could respect that. While he had a million questions running through his head those were questions for his mother.
The Mission. Always the mission.
He felt his shoulders square and he took a deep breath to try and steady himself and bury his feelings.
"What's this?"
That gave Oliver something to focus on. Ressa was pulling apart a multi folded sheaf of papers, the main one was a map of the dock side district where they were...a warehouse in the north side was circled. In bold red lettering 'the Summoning' was across from it.
More documents spread across the parchment, details on the Summoning.
"Well, I will admit I should've expected just this, but then the Venatori were always a bit on the...direct side."
"The Summoning is to summon a rage demon?" Oliver growled.
"They've done it once before at least. They tried to get at something underneath Minrathous if you don't remember."
"I remember. Just think they'd learn their lessons."
He continued to flip through the rest of the pages, nothing but additional tax and trade receipts.
He sighed, "You think this is enough to go to the Magisterium?"
"No," she shook her head, "he could easily claim that he was looking into it on his own recognizance. By itself its not a smoking gun, it is however, a tar-"
"Silver Rook! Ressa of the Shadow Dragons! We have you surrounded. In the name of the Templar Order of Minrathous surrender yourself peacefully or we have been authorized to use lethal force!"
Oliver and Ressa glanced at one another before crouch Walking over to the curtains. He twitched it open with his bow limb and glanced over across the field. The Templars had set up mage staffs where light flitted from them, across the roof and windows of the estate, looking for them.
He jolted the curtain closed just before it reached them and the two of them flattened against the wall.
"Templars! Here?" Ressa hissed.
"I counted at least fifteen out there and if I were to hazard a guess I bet there would be a lot more, scouring the estate as we speak."
"We need a plan to get out of there." Ressa glanced out of the Templars. "They're moving."
"OK." He nodded towards the desk. "You get those plans to the Shadows. I've already seen enough of them on my own. You need to get out of here. Warn them. I'll draw them off."
"You'll face off at least fifteen heavily armed Templars by your self?"
He shrugged, "I've faced twenty heavily armed Qunari before. Though I don't plan on engaging them. Just keeping them busy enough before we both can make our get away."
"Alright." Have it your way.
They both moved tot he door, each one looked out.
"Oliver, good luck."
He nodded at her before they both dashed off.
The emptiness of the estate now proved oppressive. Given the Templars were here in the back of his head he suspected he had fallen into a trap, yet they had no choice but to fight their way through it.
He buried the thought deep into the recesses of his mind before rounding the corner-
Almost straight into a cordon of armed Templars four wide.
"Halt!" They yelled.
He ripped an arrow from its quiver and put it through one of the lanterns hanging off the ceiling. They flinched which gave him enough time to dip down a side corridor.
"He went this way!"
"After him!"
The last thing he wanted to do was kill a Templar. Unless he had evidence beyond reproach or no other choice the Templars were at least nominally on his side. And killing one would do him no favors.
A door slammed open in front of him and a Templar lackadaisically entered the hall, his visor snapped around.
Oliver used his momentum to dodge past, his foot catching the heal of the Templar and spilling him on the floor.
The warrior in his heavy plate took a second to recover, flailing on the ground.
It gave him enough time to rip an arrow out, take careful but quick aim, and put an arrow through his other leg pinning him to the ground.
That done he plunged back to his feet and back down the corridor, making his way to a back wall, a balcony, somewhere he could flee into the night.
I hope Daggone and Aleia will be able to make it back to the warehouse in one piece.
He found a likely room, a grand balcony which looked out over the Nocen sea behind the house. He vaulted over it and landed on it with a sickening crunch but absorbed the impact. A ripped arrow went into the shoulder of another Templar guard. He grunted as he grabbed for it.
"He's over here!" The man screamed.
A rustle of fabric and a rush of heavy steel toed boots came from across the courtyard. Six more Templars charged down upon them from the other direction, their weapons already drawn.
At least there are no archers among them.
He bolted for the darkness. Bearing only leathers and with his athleticism he felt confident he could make it to the street corner before they could reach him. That and with him drawing so much of their attention he had no doubt Aleia would manage to escape.
A small smirk played across his lips, all and all a descent night's work.
He spotted Aleia off in one corner, approaching him casually from the flank. He glanced up at one side of the street making sure no one was pursuing them.
He slowed to catch up with her.
"Where's Daggone?" He asked.
Her face was an expressionless glare, something in her eyes was cold and furious.
"Aleia?"
She drew her blade, and pointed the sharp end straight at his heart.
"In the name of the Templar Order and the Tevinter Imperium...Oliver Mercar you are under arrest for crimes against the state."