Mundus

The old Imperial highway broke off, becoming a dirt road with deep wagon furrows where tepid water pooled. This road, in turn, led past several ramshackle shacks, hastily erected tents, and a small field that may once have been used for farming judging by the wooden fence around it, but was now overgrown by weeds, until it finally reached a small bridge. Beyond the bridge was Lothering, wooden houses with peaked roofs lining the path that led from the bridge. Just on the other side of the bridge was a small field where several wagons and their draft animals stood.

As the group passed through the squalor that was the refugee camp they got mixed reactions. Some looked to them, nervous and suspicious, others with slight disgust and more than one with something else completely.

"Oh joy, more fools staring," Morrigan muttered.

"Well, you do have a rather unique sense of fashion," Elisa pointed out.

"As if your attire is any more modest, noble."

"Fair point."

Celestine was glad of her robes for once. Although they garnered her several looks of fear and suspicion, at least she had fewer lecherous ones directed at her compared to the other women in their party.

They reached the bridge, where a pair of Templars stopped them. "Halt strangers, this town is under Chantry protection."

"Chantry? I've never heard of Templars enforcing the law." Celestine observed.

"The Arl and his men abandoned these lands," the helmeted man responded, "and there has been bandit activity on the roads. I'm afraid we can't let you enter the village, armed as you are."

The companions looked at one another, trying to decide on a course; finally Erik stepped forward. "There were highwaymen on the road a short way from here; we took care of them. Permanently." His voice hardened on the last word.

Had they been able to see the Templar's eyes they would no doubt have been widened. "You did? Oh, well I suppose the Knight-Captain will want to hear of that. Keep your weapons tied into their sheaths and you won't have any trouble from us."

Heading into the town, the group followed the road until it split off over another bridge, the other path leading towards a large building that was no doubt the Chantry, judging by the Chanter's board set up just outside its outer wall. They stopped in front of the board, Erik heading over to have a closer look at it. One could always take stock of a community's situation depending on their problems.

"I think Alistair, one of the twins and I should head to the Chantry. Meet with the Knight-Captain, maybe the Revered Mother," Celestine mused.

"Oh, and why those specifically?" Elisa asked.

"Morrigan is an apostate, and the Templars at the bridge let us pass relatively unchallenged; I'd rather not tempt fate again," the former Circle mage reasoned. "Alistair was raised by the Chantry and trained as a Templar. I'm sure he'll be able to offer insight on any dealings. Having a noble along can never hurt if extra pull is needed, and I've been dealing with Templars all my life. Or well, been stared at by them. If anyone can weather Templar scrutiny, it's me." She smiled sweetly at the last bit.

"'Tis a reasonable course of action; the interior of a Chantry would hardly interest me," Morrigan agreed.

At that point Erik joined up with them again. "I'll go with Morrigan; even if she can take care of herself, I'd rather not risk any altercations because some fool got too drunk and got ideas.

Morrigan bristled slightly, but did not argue. Celestine nodded, seeing that what Erik said made sense; they would not want to risk drawing more attention, considering what they had heard from the bandits.

So the group split up, Celestine, Alistair and Elisa heading towards the Chantry and Erik and Morrigan heading towards where several men had set up their stalls in the hope that they might be able to acquire some supplies for the journey to come.

The trio announced themselves to the Knight-Captain, who, after learning that they were Grey Wardens, asked them to speak with the Revered Mother. It was true; a bounty had been set on their heads by Loghain and they had been framed for the losses at Ostagar. There were several interruptions on their way to the Revered Mother, first a raving Chasind that had been inciting the crowds, who somehow seemed to pick up on the taint in the Wardens, and then there was a knight from Redcliffe who Alistair recognised. The news they gleaned from him was not good.

"Grey Wardens? I have heard these claims against your order," the Revered Mother said, "but I'll not act on them. We have enough trouble as it is."

As the group headed back out of the building, Elisa was still trying to process what had just happened. "So, we get told to report to all these people in charge, just for them to wave us off and say 'we don't care' in far too many words?"

"Eeyup," Alistair confirmed. "Welcome to Chantry bureaucracy."

Celestine just grinned as they walked out the doors, spotted Erik and Morrigan and waved them over. Once they were close enough she jerked her head in the direction of the stone building behind them. "Dealt with the admin, let's see if we can find somewhere to rest for the night. We ran into a man who recognised Alistair from Redcliffe, seems all is not well there; we can journey there the day after tomorrow."

Erik nodded. "Morrigan is quite the haggler; we're almost stocked up. I picked up that there's an inn on the other side of the bridge, because the vendors were complaining about some soldiers that were being difficult."

Morrigan made a sound of annoyance. "The fools knew not the worth of their own wares."

The party made their way to the other side of the town. Elisa was looking at something with a sad expression; Celestine was about to ask what was troubling her when she spotted the source of the noble's distress herself. A small child was standing near the bridge they had just traversed, running up to random people and asking them something, only to be ignored or roughly rebuked, but the child did not relent.

Celestine brushed Elisa's arm to draw her attention, and nodded towards the child, indicating that the noble approach it. The Cousland smiled tightly, eyes bright with unshed tears, and nodded sharply as she hurried towards the small boy.

"What was that?" Alastair asked as he picked up on the silent exchange.

"Hopefully a small balm for whatever those shadows behind her eyes are," Celestine responded, watching as Elisa lifted the boy onto her hip, his small face explaining something animatedly as the noble-cum-Warden headed back to the other side of the bridge. Erik gave a gruff look of thanks at the mage.

They found the inn easily enough, it being the only building that drew crowds. They left the two mabari at the door and headed inside, knowing it was probably too crowded for the powerful dogs to easily pass between people. Erik cleared a way to the bar, making space through the throng for the women to follow, Alistair bringing up the rear. Morrigan was visibly uncomfortable in the close quarters.

At the bar, Erik rapped his knuckles on the counter, his gauntlets loud against the aged wood. "Barkeep! A word!"

The sweaty man behind the counter quickly finished filling up the tankard he'd been busy with, shooting a nervous look at Erik as he spilled slightly. "'ll be righ' there master."

He used a dirty cloth to smear the mess more evenly before heading over to where Erik and the others were. "'Ow may hi assis'? An' before you ask, no. There's no room. We're full up, has you can see."

"Hmm, is there anywhere else we can spend the night? There are ladies with us and I rather they not have to spend every night outside."

"Well, hunless these ladies are hoffering a par'icular service in hexchange, hi doub' hanyone will be making space."

"Ah, I see; no thank you. We'll find some other accommodations." Erik almost managed to hide the disgust in his tone at what the man had implied.

He was about to wave the group away from the bar when a voice from behind interrupted, "Oi, you! I know you! Yeah, you were with them Grey Wardens – that one with the cheese. Betrayed the king you did."

Alistair's eyebrows shot up in surprise just as Erik and Celestine's eyes narrowed. Morrigan merely looked bored. The Cousland turned around to look at who had addressed them, suddenly wishing there was more space and that his sword was not peace-tied.

There were five of them – men-at-arms that looked to have imbibed far too much. The one at their head called out again. "Loghain said to wait here in case any of you showed up. Authorized by the Regent to take you in for treason or your life is forfeit."

The crowded room had grown silent. The space between the two parties grew as people slipped out in apprehension of the growing tension. Erik looked at the men, face devoid of emotion. "Betrayed at Highever. Betrayed at Ostagar. And now accused of treason." He spoke quietly, yet still his voice carried through the whole room. There were yet more sounds of feet as more tried to escape the room or back against the walls. The ground floor of the inn was now almost completely open, with the two opposing parties on either side. "Are you sure you wish to pursue this?"

"So you're saying you'll not come quietly?"

"Everyone, calm down. Is there no peaceful way to resolve this? Can we not come to an agreement?" This was said by a woman wearing chantry robes, her voice lilting with a slight Orlesian accent.

"Step aside Sister, this does not concern you or the Chantry. The Regent wants either their heads or shackled."

Celestine put a hand on Erik's shoulder as if holding him back with her soft touch as she stepped past him. "Not going to happen; there is a Blight afoot and only Grey Wardens can stop it. You either let us go, or…I recommend you let us go."

"Not gonna happen, girl!" This the man said as he drew his sword and charged, his friends close behind him.

There was a surprised gurgle as two of them fell. Erik narrowly dodged the sword of the leader, but as it passed by him he grabbed the man's arm and pulled as he lifted his knee, crushing his nose. Celestine went down as one of the men swung a sword at her and she tried to block it with her arm, both of them going down in a crowd of people who screamed as they scattered. Seeing this, Alistair shouted out and barrelled into the other man, knocking his sword aside as he lifted him off the floor and threw him down again; there was a horrible snapping sound as the man's head connected with the ground again at a completely wrong angle. The remaining one just screamed and fled the room, a smug look on Morrigan's face as she watched him leave. Erik pulled his knee out of the leader's face and smashed the man's head against the bar, it making another crunching sound as the broken bones in his face were crushed even further.

"Tina!" Alistair almost cried as he ran towards where the mage and her aggressor had gone down. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw an icicle sticking clean through the man's chest. Slowly he leaned over and rolled the body off Celestine, dreading what he would find.

The expression on his face changed almost instantly when he saw the former Circle mage smiling up at him, somewhat embarrassed. Her attacker's sword was stuck between stones that wrapped around her arm in what was almost a second skin. The man's weight had pressed the blade against her enough so that it had formed a long thin cut from her brow, over her eye and across her left cheek, but she was otherwise unharmed.

"Thank the Maker, you're okay." Alistair sent up the prayer, no one but her hearing it.

~o~

"Blimey, someone's been busy," Hawke commented as they walked past several congealing pools of blood, scattering crows as they neared the site of what seemed to have been a small massacre. She took in where a large cone of soot scorched the ground, ending in what she assumed were the very charred remains of…someone.

"Maker…did the darkspawn somehow get ahead of us?" Carver asked, eyeing the scene.

"Naw, 'spawn wouldn't have dragged the bodies off the road." She walked over to the scorch mark, rubbing a finger across it as she crouched.

Sorana sniffed her finger, testing the carbon substance, expression thoughtful. Then she stuck it in her mouth. Her face twisted into the expression of someone who had tasted something exceedingly vile, and spat a few times, trying to remove the trace of it from her tongue. "Yep, definitely her."

Carver looked at his older sister strangely. "Does sticking it in your mouth actually help?"

"Absolutely! Best way to trace identity is by taste, like comparing yours and Beth's cooking. I can almost always tell whose it was."

"Uh, okay." The young man was unsure whether what his sister had said was a slight, or simply an observation, since even a delinquent chicken would be able to tell the twins' cooking apart, considering that he always burnt everything.

Hawke hefted her spear again and started off down the highway again. "Well, come on brother! Or we'll miss a family visit!"

Carver grunted, slightly annoyed. But then, when was there a time his sister did not grate on him with her flippancy? He shifted his sword's sheath and followed after Sorana, secretly glad to be home, despite the dire setting.