"Information, should one seek to know something, it is rarely ever among those who claim to have it that it will be found. And food. Yourself?"

Alright lass if yer thinkin the big words and flippy sentences are confusin yer wrong its not all wit and brawn in this Templar, only reason I dennae bust your circle dodging arse is I think you've got the pointer I need, besides that you've got pretty eyes to, however with that accent of yours maybe your some kind of emissary? Either way you'll know something.

"Same reasons, though Id hardly consider this "food" piss warm ale and its like copulating in a canoe if you catch mah meaning, Ill explain that one for yah later, and Gods know what kinda meat this is though its far better then rabbit."

Hamish drained his ale with a single large gulp, leaving the foam mustache for a moment he twiddled his eyebrows comically at Asta before wiping a small scrap of cloth across his face to rid himself of the ale foam.

"In all seriousness Im lookin fer answers, what say we trade? In the very least if I dennae know anything and you dennae then Ill at least have this memory to treasure."

Cleaning the grease from his fingers Hamish stowed the rag in his pack and unshouldered his burden, looking around quickly he judged they were in a secure enough location, the other patrons had given the two a wide birth, most likely due to the impressive staff Asta carried.

"Ye ken anythin about the darkspawn? Also, what do ye ken about blood magic? I dennae if youve heard but the two are a rising problem nowadays." Realizing this may be implying he suspected Asta of the deed herself he quickly gestured the innocence of the question.

"Why is it every time I see you, I suddenly develop a bronto-sized headache." The man rubbed his temples, lying down on the backrooms couch. Aiden leaned against the wall and yawned heavily. The backrooms of The Pearl were quiet, but they made you sleepy. This was the owners doing by making the rooms smell of a thin layer of cinnamon. While pleasant, its designed to make the customers tired and not have as much "quality time" with the girls (or men) but at the same hourly rate. Many came in paying for three hours, only to spend three minutes of it awake, a rather ingenious plan on the owners part, at least Aiden thought so. "Its because I know just how to talk to people. Anyway, there's somethings I wanted to talk to you about." Aiden stopped for a moment and listened for any shifts in movement outside the room, making absolutely sure he wasn't being followed. "So, what can you tell me?" The man on the couch sat up, pouring himself a glass of wine. "You're not gonna like it." Aiden shrugged as if it was to be expected.

"From the records we recovered, Broodmothers are not something to be taken lightly. From what I gather they are able to hear the Old Gods, like all darkspawn. But, something about this is different." Aiden tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, for once intrigued by what this lack of informing informant had to say. "Ya see, Broodmothers are typically found deep underground, were they can create all the darkspawn babies they want. The scouting reports say Ostagar, but it doesn't match up. From what you told me about that area, there is nowhere suitable for a Broodmother to exist." Aiden scratched his chin and stood straight. "And your point is?" The informant hit his hand on the table. "By the Maker, you're thick! My point is that something has to be at work here. Something that caused that Broodmother to appear in such a location." Aiden smirked and burst out laughing, "Like what? An Archdemon? Did you take a blow to the head since the last time we spoke. Anyway I need to get going, I see coming here was a waste of an afternoon." The informant chugged the wine and pointed at Aiden. "Don't think ya-self so clever, boy. There are things in this world even an Archdemon would hide from." Aiden rolled his eyes and closed the door to the backroom behind him. "Miserable old drunk."

Answering the question with a question? This dwarf knew more then Garo had originally given him credits for. But the fact remained that a Dwarf born outside the underground caves of Orzammar would have paid more respect to the laws around Denerim, like the very particular one that states that no citizen are allowed to assault another citizen within the cities walls. This dwarf was from Orzammar where the strongest survived and those who didn't know what they wanted died, no doubt about it.
Garo was about to reply when a plate of salted pork was given to the dwarf who in returned quickly digged in on his food. The sight of the dwarf eating was one that disgusted Garo, and he had seen a Ogres guts flying here and there, even being covered in it himself. Yet he quickly regained his stance.

“Truly manling, there is nothing better than right here, except perhaps killing darkspawn, but they don’t taste quite as good as this” The dwarf pointed out as he continued devouring the pork in front of him. The Grey Warden contemplated on joking with the little fellow, but decided that it would be a bad act on his part.

"I wouldn't know." He stated dryly and threw a quick look at the dwarf next to him. "Business."

This was no fun, but it did kill time for Garo. While waiting on the dwarf to finish his ale and hopefully reply to the Grey wardens answers, he scanned the taverns inside. The first think to catch his attention was two to three waitresses running around with an intoxicating finesse and swiftness about them. The large muscular Housekeeper had disappeared out of sight, probably into one of the backrooms or into his own private 'office'. Many of the patrons keep themselves hidden in the dark lit places of the room while others keep their faces under their green and black hoods. Garo caught some of them looking straight at him and as soon as he did, they slowly looked away. But there was others in here that didn't kept themselves hidden and acted like the dwarf sitting next to the Grey Warden; not caring about anything else but their food and ale.

And as he sat there, waiting on his little fellows reply, Garo began to wonder what Asta might be up to.

Andrei glanced between both the human and the half-elf."You can call me...Andrei then sh-...Brad."She said gritting her teeth as she tried to refrain from calling him her peoples usual term for humans."I can walk...it is bad for the animals back if you have two people ride together."She gave him a small nod before glancing over to the woman."I will aide you and watch should the need arise. If nothing attacks then...well that's a good thing." She dusted herself off a bit before watching the shem and then pausing as he threatened her."Do not threaten me human. I gave you no threat and have done my best not to insult you.I came her simply for my Keeper. However...should I end up "Two feet below " as you say I would give you the advice never to enter the forests again. If you killed me the trees would see it....then whisper the words to my brethren . Then as soon as you entered the Forests you would have an arrow very quickly in your Shem back." She gave him a small fake smile and motioned for them to go on.

The woman she did not mind but the man was going to be an issue. The way he spoke made her slightly irate but she knew she couldn't do anything. Besides it wasn't like she could do anything anyways, even though she knew she could fight well these were Wardens."Bjeen! Come we follow these quick ones." Bjeen let out a delighted growl, causing Andrei to sigh. The hound would become fast friends with the Wardens. He was probably one of the most friendly mabaris she had ever come to see. Except when he was chomping on Andrei's enemies head of course.
"Lets get going then..." She mumbled as she straightened up and prepared to walk behind them..or run.

Asta had to agree about the food, though the wine wasn't all that bad, especially compared to how that ale smelled. She'd learned how to sniff out a proper brew from a nasty one before she rightly should have been anywhere near the stuff, and the result was a snobbery about such matters that would turn a dwarf green with envy.

"Hn... you're quite direct, aren't you? I suppose I can appreciate that. Allow me to be equally direct: I know more about what you are asking than I am allowed to say." She lifted one shoulder in a nonchalant shrug, then took another sip of the burgundy liquid in her glass. "I can tell you, though, that if you're looking for news on Darkspawn, there are Grey Wardens in Denerim. Orlesian ones, no less, and others on the way. Now, I'm sure you're aware that the only time that lot ever gets within these borders is when they are sorely needed, and what could Wardens be needed for if not a Darkspawn threat, hm?" She referenced the longstanding enmity between Orlais and Ferelden, one that even despite another five decades of time, had not quite ceased simmering below the surface of diplomatic relations between the two.

Asta sat back, swishing the wine about in its glass, observing Hamish's reaction to the information over the rim before she bothered to speak again. "As for blood magic..." she let out a small sigh and shook her head. "I can tell you this: not all apostates are blood mages, and not all blood mages are evil maleficarum, but there are good reasons why it is forbidden. I would not recommend seeking any such apostates alone, whatever the reason might be." Draining the remainder of the alcohol, she bored into him with her stare. "What, I wonder, do you have to share, Ser Hahmeesh?"

Returning her stare evenly Hamish cleared his throat and leaned back thoughtfully.
"Not much Ahm afraid, most of the mission details ah was given are based on heresay and the whispers of angry refugees, ahm aware of warden presence ah was advised to seek them out and offer my services though ahd rather not, that rite of conscriptions a bit ominous in me opinion ahd rather fight for a cause because ah choose to, not because a man with a paper takes a liking to the way I take care of business. The Orlesian's however ah knew nothing about though Im certainly glad of they're presence."

Hamish took a moment to remove a spec of meat from his teeth with a small whittling knife he carried before continuing.

"Though ahm positive the darkspawn are active ah dennae think its anywhere near a blight, at least ah hope not."

Pulling a few documents from his pack he passed them forward.

"Thas all I was given, basic sightings, movement patterns and the like, ahve also been told the majority are hurlocks though don't put much stock in it, if this is true and there IS a brood mother she was once human, meaning wherever they are its most likely near a human settlement."

Hamish leaned forward and almost inaudibly whispered,
"Of course you probably ken most of this eh lass? Ye may not be a warden yourself but your in league at least, that much ahm certain. Otherwise, you've a very good ear for gossip."

Reflecting on her last comments on the subject of blood magic he bristled slightly.
"And please, dennae seek to lecture me about maleficarum, I make my living off them thats all I need to know, morality has no place when your crushing a the skull of a boy barely younger then you and I while he screams things that make you want to crawl into the abyss itself."

Staring angrily for a moment Hamish softened his expression and hung his head slightly for a moment before looking back forcing a stoic expression to his face,
"Look, ah mean no insult, no offense but you don't exactly look like a circle type, In another time and place we might be trying to kill each other, ah suppose if ahve offended ye ahll be on me way though if you could point me any closer to the wardens ahd be in yer debt."

“I am not from Orzammar lad, My home I suppose you can say was the Dead Trenches, make of that what you will” He took a deep chug, he only spoke because the grey warden seemed to be a persistent little bugger and seemed to be one of those silent brooding types, although why the grey warden would ask about his origins seemed absolutely ridiculous, but he must have been trying to make idle chat.

He downed the last of the Ale placing it down on the counter. “Business eh? Most likely darkspawn business. Tell you what laddie, I have a rather long and detailed past with those little buggers, and I wish to go with you. I carry my own weight, and only require twenty percent of the loot, not too shabby eh?” He didn’t mind less, but he wanted to go more for the adventure aspect as the manlings and puny elves were boring him. He missed the slaughtering of dark spawn, and his grudge still remained.

“Lad, you should drink up; if not than give it to someone who would appreciate it. Ale is a terrible thing to waste” it was true, as a dwarf he loved ale only slightly less than he loved gold. Truly it was a crime to waste such a delicious drink.

Asta remained impassive even as the man across the table cycled through is feelings, each on plain as day on his face. Sometimes, she envied people like that, the ones that could express things so openly. She had forgotten how, if she'd ever known. Her childhood had been somewhat less than ordinary.

He seemed to get offended when she mentioned the difference between apostates and maleficarum, but then it wasn't a distinction she expected a Templar to make. Their job was to eliminate threats before they had the chance to be threats, no matter what that meant. It probably wreaked havoc on their consciences, if they had them. No, she corrected herself mentally, they have them, and denying that is being the hateful wretch they think you are. "Do not mistake my meaning, Hahmeesh. I do not say you should not kill maleficarum, though perhaps you are right when you say I am not the 'Circle type.' I, however, prefer to deal in those circumstances which are, and not those which are not, which means that I will not take offense. What is more," and here she paused, seeming to contemplate something before nodding to herself more than him, "I will take you to one of these Grey Wardens, should you actually wish to find one."

She'd let Garo decide what to do with him. She had gathered enough from the man that she was no longer going to dismiss him out-of-hand, though she would not trust him yet with her own identity as a Grey Warden. Garo was a more public face of the order; Asta wore no crest, the better for doing the sort of job that required a bit more cunning than all that. "I am to meet with him in another few hours, at the entrance to the palace. You are welcome to come, should you be serious in your pursuit of the darkspawn. Or blood mages. Whichever." Draining the last of her glass, Asta set it back on the table and removed payment for her meal, throwing in a little extra for the mere fact that she did not have correct change and did not want to wait on it. She was uncertain tipping here was a good idea, but then she ever really planned to be back, did she?

Inclining her head no more or less than she had for the king, Asta stood and took her leave without a word. She had said all she needed to say, after all, it was all in his hands now. Skilfully dodging all the... people that tried to lay hands on her on the way out, imploring her to stay, she exited back into the street with a barely-audible sigh. She needed to check the smithies; a new pair of boots was probably in order soon, after all.

The Dead Trenches, eh? Now that's most interesting. Not many people live in those parts but Garo had heard of a small settlement there, still surviving amongst the aggressive Darkspawn population. The Dwarf would then surely be experienced dealing with Darkspawn then, as he must have fought his way to Orzammar and then made his way to the surface at some point. But enough of that, Garo was soon going to meet Asta at the palace. Well not so soon, it was two hour left. No wonder time just flew by when you didn't check it once in awhile. The sun was at the peek of the sky, shining down upon the streets and shops of Denerim.

The Dwarf suddenly offered himself to tag along with Garo to whatever 'Darkspawn business' he might be up to. The Grey Warden had his doubts about this. Sure the Dwarf seemed experienced and all, but he was no Grey warden. That and the king had not stated anything about gathering other followers except the guide. Garo remained filled with doubt but after a moment of thinking he passed his ale over to the dwarf who immediately began to drink it. The armor covered figure rose from his seat and looked at the dwarf with a steady look.

"Meet me and my company outside the palace entrance in two hours. We can discuss the matter of you joining us there. Until then, may the Maker be with you." Garo said and with that he left the tavern, heading out into the streets once more. What should he do now? He had all the supplies he needed, his armor didn't need to be polished nor did his sword and shield. He was all ready to begin this little so called 'adventure' but since the other wardens had not arrived yet (or at least that's what he was guessing otherwise one of the kings men would be running around town, looking for the other Grey Wardens) there wasn't much to do.

And for the first time in a many years, Garo was bored and without anything to do.

Ignoring any other solemn statements, Arkanna made herself comfortable in her saddle before glancing over her shoulder at Andrei. It may have been her curiosity or desire to understand more about the Dalish, but she'd already decided she didn't mind the woman—there was a tranquil poise about her that she admired. She clicked her tongue, a small, subtle statement of her approval before glancing over at Brad. The rogue seemed a little more than paranoid about the company they kept, but she couldn't exactly blame him. With friends and monstrous creatures roaming the lands, no one could be trusted. Everyone had their own intentions, and most didn't coincide with their own.

When Andrei refused to ride with her, Arkanna brushed her hands against the black mares' neck, smiling wryly. “Ressa would be offended,” She noted quietly, followed by a small laugh. “She's a strong lass, she is.” Already upon arrival, she'd hand-chosen a horse, adamantly asked about its' name and seemed to have grown rather attached to the beast. She puckered her lips slightly, hooking a thumb towards her companion. “He'll warm up to you, eventually.” Shrugging her shoulders, she smiled. “Perhaps not.” At least, the Dalish woman was keen on working with them, rather than stalking from the shadows. She understood that eventually she would have made herself known, because if she hadn't wanted to, she would have made a truer effort to remain hidden. Either that, or the jovial mabari war-hound played its' own part in fate.

“Glad to know we have more allies.” A small comfort, even though they had more enemies than not. Arkanna thought that it would have been stupid for Dwarves, Elves and humans alike to turn on each other when they held no place in the world if the Darkspawn completely destroyed all that they stood for. It made more sense that all of the races drew together, fighting a mutual enemy. However, she understood that the world and its' inhabitants made even less sense—fighting against each other still posed a problem, even amidst greater enemies. Squeezing the mares' flanks, she urged her forward at a careful walk, prepared to hurry her mount along should Brad feel to quicken the pace.

Brad didn't start a debate with the Dalish, nor did he show much care about what he had said. He was glad that they were back on their way to Denerim, though he would have liked it a bit better if they could have ridden on the horses, saving precious hours, however...He couldn't have everything in life. Brad was silent for the majority of the journey, and whenever he did talk, it was mainly questions such as, "Did you hear something?" or "Wait a...Never mind" and every time he would look into the nearby undergrowth or bushes and then turn for a quick glance at the Dalish elf, seeing if she was doing anything suspicious.

With time the sight of Denerim came into sight, much to Brad's relief. He could feel that he was being overly paranoid, even for his standards, in the company of a wizard and a Dalish elf. The group was stopped at the gate, "State your business, and show me what you bring in. We no don’t want smugglers ‘ere."
Brad raised an eyebrow and looked at Arkanna and then Andrei, and spoke first, "Messenger. I have been instructed to carry a message for a merchant."
The guard eyed Brad with suspicion, "Why all dat dark clothes then, eh? You seem pretty well armed for a messenger."
"My preferred clothes are none of your concern, however unlike you, I have to fend off more than just wild animals in the wilds. Bandits, and rivals are also people who would like to see that I don't succeed in bringing the messages."
"Rivals?"
"Of my employers."
"Aight. Let me see what ye got." Without further discussion, Brad allowed the guard to inspect his bag which contained little of interest, and then he gave the soldier a few silver coins to quicken his efficiency.

Brad then waited for the other to have their inventory inspected and questioned and then they entered the city of Denerim. Brad gave a smirk and nodded in approval, “Ah yes. Denerim. A city filled with love, wealth, power, corruption and theft. I love this place.” Brad’s optimism about the place was surprising. Personally, Brad enjoyed the buzzle of the city, the sound of the many people, the smell of the spices from the food markets, the smell of the mud and garbage, the piss, and unwashed bodies. Brad enjoyed being so close to ‘civilization’, he believed that the word held so much irony when it was put into context for places such as Denerim.

“Now, the king has requested the Wardens to report to him,” Brad started off, returning to his serious self, “as we have arrived slightly late, I’ll assume that the instructions of our mission was given to whomever has arrived before. Lets see if we can catch up with anyone near the castle.”
Brad looked at his two and a half companions. He didn’t expect the War-hound to have much of an opinion, save for perhaps bark loudly and move its tail happily. Maybe allow its tongue to dangle out from its mouth, but who knew the signs of the dog? Maybe Andrei did, maybe not.

The room remained in silence. Everything seemed untouched except the desk lying in pieces on the far side of the room. On the floor there's a carpet coloured green with white stripes, covering the entire ground. On the walls there were torches hanging firmly to the wall, still burning brightly. There were no pictures hanging upon the walls, only these ever burning tree sticks. Along the left wall there was several tables filled with equipment you used for alchemy and a whole lot of ingredients scattered about such as giant spider legs, snake tongue, bat wings and there was even a couple of... private male human parts lying in a bowl. On the right side of the room there was four closets positioned closely next to each other. In them there was several things such as robes of different colours, giant shiny armours, leather suits of all kinds and in the last closet there was a long and thick tree staff that mysteriously shone with a small blue light, standing up by its self. On both the right and the left side of the broken desk there was several shelves of books. There was books about summoning weak to strong beings, about martial arts and how to wage war the 'right' way, about the chantries history and the Grey wardens history as well as several tales about the Darkspawn. But the majority of books was about blood magic, the strongest and most 'craving' side of magic there is. How to use your blood for different spells, summonings, enchantments and other things. An apostate who loved blood magic would faint when seeing all these books. Who was in possession of all these things and what for?

The question would remain a mystery for now as a skinny little man wearing a dark blue rob literally threw himself through the only wooden door leading in and out from the room. The door broke open and he stumbled in, up to the middle of the room. His eyes were fixed at the broken desk. His facial expression suddenly changed from desperation to pure fear.

"No... It can't be!" He thought and ran up to the pieces of the destroyed desk. He began to search through the many papers lying about down on his knees. He couldn't seem to find what he was looking for. There was only guard reports, lists of shipments leaving Denerim and entering it and the list of overall personal from the different sections around Denerim. He couldn't find the list of export and import of gold though and that's the one thing he needed at this point. Just as he thought he had found it, the paper revealed itself to be a note with the following sentence written clumsily by someone, probably in a hurry:

"Lars, when you find this note, if you find it before the killer I sent finds you, I want to make something very clear to you. No one double crosses me for any reason and then gets away with it. Your big brother failed to understand this just as your father did and now you too? I've reached my limits and it's time for payback. When you're reading this I'm probably already on my way to your mothers house. I will kill her, slowly, and then I'm going to have my way with your little sister. I will have the time of my life, mind you. Oh well, it's been a honour working with you and I hope the Maker will have mercy on your soul.

- Your sincere Martin."

Lars stared at the paper, without any emotions running through his mind nor body. He was speechless as he heard steps behind him and a door being closed. Suddenly he was overwhelmed with emotions. His heart was mourning, his mind was poisoned with hate and most of all, his sight was blinded by rage. He got up on his feet and pulled out his polished knife before turning around to face the being behind him. The figure was more muscular than a dwarf, taller than a human and had long white hair as most elvish elders. He belonged to a race rarely seen in Ferelden, almost only mentioned in legends of war and conquering in the north. A Qunari with long, curvy and strong horns growing just above his ears. Three gold rings is attached to each of the horns.
The Qunari wore the usual leather/chain mail style with steel gloves. In both hands he was holding weapons humans and dwarfs usually held with two hands. In his left hand he was holding a giant Great Axe and in his right hand he held a long Qunari sword mainly made to slice through foes like a warm knife through butter. His yellow eyes stared right at the little man in blue robes.

"Shanedan, Lars." The Qunari said calmly with his own language and accent. Lars didn't respond, he continued to watch the Qunaris every move. There was a short quiet momentum between them before Lars broke the silence.

"Kuda Las Teradon!" He screamed after cutting himself in the hand with the knife. His blood flew up in the air and formed a black ball of fire. Within a split-second the ball was flying towards the warrior on the other side of the room. The Qunari swiftly evaded it and began to slowly move towards his target that was trapped by the wall behind him. Lars continued to throw spells conjured by blood magic against his enemy but they were easily evaded until his very last one that drained all of his powers.
The last spell was a wave of darkness that crashed through the room from wall to wall, destroying everything it touched on it's way towards the door. Lars was certain that this would stop his enemy and hopefully also kill him, but upon seeing the result of his spell his eyes landed at the floor in front of him. He had failed and now he was going to die. The Qunari had screamed something unknown to Lars on the other side of the dark wave and the wave had shattered from the warriors weapons.

"Parshaara!" He ordered with a firm voice when approaching the weak man before him. Lars knew that it was useless to beg for his life or try to bargain with this-- this monster! Upon reaching Lars, the Qunari quickly lifted his weapons above his head and with great swiftness he ended the apostates life with a single strike. Blood gathered on the carpet and the body was lying still next to both of it's dead arms. The Qunari didn't pay anymore attention to the dead man and with that he unequipped his weapons and left the room. He had other things to do here in Denerim.

---

After two hours of exploring the city, looking at stuff he was certainly not going to buy and talking to unknown people in an attempt to stay updated about the recent events around Ferelden, Garo began to make his way back to the palace to meet up with Asta, that Dwarf and hopefully also the other two wardens. He was eager to start this mission as soon as possible. You should always try to get rid of the Darkspawn as fast as possible before they grow too many for a party of Grey Wardens to handle. For a second there Garo longed for the smell of burned Darkspawn flesh, black blood flying here and there because of is blade and the desperate roar from a fleeing darkspawn upon seeing his brothers being slaughtered by Grey Wardens. Those were the things you, oddly enough, remembered from a fight with those demonic creatures.
Garo now had the palace entrance within his sight. He didn't see who it was but he sure as hell saw that there was other people standing there or maybe just one? Oh well, he continued on.
Suddenly someone very large bumped into him that Garo had somehow missed. The Grey Warden almost lost balance but he quickly regained it before looking at the figure who had walked straight into him. It had been a large Qunari with long curvy horns from the looks of it. The figure turned around to look at the man he had walked into and slowly began to stop in his walk. Both of them stared at each other for a little while before the Qunari spoke out.

"Garo?" He asked shortly with his firm voice and a strong accent as he turned to face the Grey Warden. Garo finally realized who this Qunari was and a smile grew across his scarred face. "Arishok?" He asked back. Both of the men nodded in acceptance and after approaching each other they shook their hands, hard. The Qunari smiled slightly, but it was enough to see that he was glad to see his old friend once more. You couldn't see the smile on Garo's face because of his helmet but they way he acted pointed at him being glad for the very same reason as Arishok.

"It's been awhile. Ten years?" Garo said and chuckled a bit.

"More like five years." Arishok replied with a friendly grunt.

"Probably. So what brings you to Denerim or to Ferelden at all really? Weren't you heading up north again to join in with the rest of your people?"

"I was. But my attention was pointed elsewhere before I got the chance and here I am; In a stinking human city." Arishok said, being serious as he did so. Garo knew Arishok meant well and so he didn't take the statement personally. Besides, he was from Orlais, not from Ferelden so it didn't matter. Garo placed his hand on the Qunaris shoulder pad and began to lead him towards the Palace.

"Well I'm here for Darkspawn business and I know how much you love killing those buggers. What do you say? Wanna join in just like old days?"

Arishok stopped and thought about it. He still had one final thing in Denerim regarding his payment for the so called 'assassination', but that could wait until he returned. With the words "Very well.", Arishok kept on following Garo until they reached the palace entrance. Now they had to wait for the rest of the company to arrive.

Aiden leaned against the palace gate, giving a small wave to the guards from earlier. He slowly fell and sat down, yawning heavily. "Three days from Orzammar to Highever, and one day from there to here, without even two hours of sleep. He moved over a few feet to the shade, pulling his knees up and resting his arms on them. He put his head down on his arms and slowly fell asleep.

"Oi? Oi, Aiden up awake? The blonde haired girl shook Aiden from over the covers, Aiden groaning and shifting in the bed. "Come on, if you don't hurry we'll be late." She removed the covers and there laid a much younger Aiden. His hair was short, he was clean cut and lacked the small scar over his left eye. "Just five more minutes Iena, just five more minutes." Iena smiled and moved closer to Aiden. "If you don't get up I'll start reading the Chant of Light." Aiden shot up from the bed and stood straight. "Ready and willing to go, ma'am." Ienal laughed and patted Aiden on the head. "Already fifteen. Time sure flies by." Aiden's cheeks tinted red and he pulled away. "I wish you would not treat me like a kid for once." Iena grinned and crossed her arms. "And what, you want me to treat you like a man?" Aiden turned to her with a serious expression on his face, causing Iena to drop her smile. "At least, look at me a-"

"Hey, drifter? You can't sleep here." Aiden opened his eyes to a guard shaking his arm. "Okay, I get it. Now, kindly remove your hand." The guard grunted and walked back to his post, leaving Aiden there to sit and collect his thoughts. He pinched the bridge of his nose and smirked. "Seems like no matter how far I go, I will always have those memories. . . damn."

Andrei was absolutely, one hundred percent disgusted. This place...this Denerim was the most awful smelling place she had ever been too. Ale, dirt, and possibly sewer water by the looks of some of the water she had seen since traveling through the gates of the city.

"How can people live inside such a place? The air is so much thicker here, it clogs the senses." Andrei said, speaking out loud in a soft but loud enough tone for her companions to hear.She turned her gaze back to Bjeen, looking at the dog with weary eyes."Even you must know how bad this place smells my friend, and you pee on trees!" The hound let out a happy bark and then something of a wheezing sort of sound that appeared to be him laughing.

Andrei laughed lightly but was cut off when she saw several groups of Elves being pulled along by Guards. Slaves more then likely to the same pompous noble kind that had killed her father simply for "breathing".

"Disgusting. To take ownership over someone simply because of what they are. Humans repulse me....". Andrei shot a quick look at Brad and then crossed her arms.

"I will follow you O fearless leader. Together we shall triumph over the dark spawn and ....am I missing anything Bjeen?" The dog tilted his head to the side and then gave a loud prescice bark, wagging his white tail as he did.

"Ah and we shall defeat any who stand in your way...huzzah!" She gave a smirk and then uncrossed her arms .She would wait then for Brad or Arkanna to speak, so that they could get a move on and she could oh o happily follow.

Nodding Hamish stood and bowed his head as hed been taught to do when a woman leaves his presence, chuckling he sat back down after watching Asta skillfully weave her way through the crowd.

"Thas gotta be the strangest person ahve ever met in all me days."

Hamish waved his hand to summon the sultry waitress to pay his tab before getting up and calmly making his way to the door pausing once with a yelp when an unknown hand snaked its way up his kilt only to disappear before he could catch the offender.

Reaching the door he stepped outside and blinked rapidly while his eyes adjusted to the change in light.

"In retrospect maybe wearin the fancy duds wasnt such a good idea."

Shrugging he turned and set off for the location Asta had described, he figured with his sense of direction it would take him almost all the time he had to kill to make it there by the time she had told him to.

Less a few sovereigns and with a new pair of Fade Striders, Asta exited the blacksmith's abode, shaking her head slightly. Those two were... strange, and she had almost thought that one of them was... ah, well, never mind about that. They did good work at any rate. Now, she had only one more stop to make before she would bother going back to the palace gates and meeting Garo.

The sweet shop was not the same one she had been staring at so longingly earlier, but rather a small establishment that she had heard on recommendation. It was actually in the alienage, which made her hesitate, but she had gained access easily enough. The large tree that stood at the center of the place smacked of reminiscences better left unexplored, but she could not help the dull ache that started up in her chest at the sight of it. The arboreal life-form was simply too similar to another.

"Does something trouble you, Miss?" The voice belonged to an ancient-looking elven woman, and Asta almost had not heard her approach, so lost had she been in thought. She glanced at the woman now, and shook her head slightly, causing a sigh from the other. The old woman, whose hair must have once been red, was now almost completely white, with only the occasional fiery strand to mark the passage of time. She had the kind of look about her that suggested she had seen much in her lifetime, but then she probably had, living here. She was clearly old enough to remember the last Blight.

"I have met those of your kind before," the woman continued, and chuckled slightly when Asta's head whipped around sharply. "Do not fear, Warden, your secret is safe with me. You are perhaps right to be troubled, being as you are. It cannot be an easy thing, living with death always a scant moment away."

Asta smiled bitterly. "I'm afraid I lived that way long before the Wardens had anything to do with it," she replied flatly.

The woman sighed. "Too many children do... but I am sorry. I should ask if there is anything I can help you find."

Fifteen minutes later, Asta, burdened with more sweets than she had wanted and deprived of fewer coins than she would have liked, was weaving her way through the market crowds of Denerim, coming to stand beside Garo and a rather large, horned Qunari that accompanied him. "Friend of yours, Garo? she asked mildly. "Shanedan, child of the Qun." She inclined her head, before noticing a young man a short distance off. "I don't suppose you found him, too?"

Hamish traversed the city quickly eyes searching for the sighns leading to the location he was supposed to meet Asta at, more then once he had started forward hopefully when he caught flashes of red but non matched the one the mage woman wore.

"Damn, Hamish you truly are pathetic with directions." He continued on for about an hour until he finally caught sight of that familiar robe and staff, he hurriedly tried to catch up and arrived just in time to catch the last of the conversation.

I don't suppose you found him to?Asta had said while gesturing at someone Hamish couldn't see, he strode forward and came face to face with the group, an experienced looking older man in armor stood next to a large horned Quinari.
While the man was impressive in his own right Hamish couldn't help but pause for a moment and look at the large foreigner for once in his life Hamish had to crane his neck to make eye contact, he stood half a head taller then Hamish and was nearly that much wider, the Quinarri's skin however was only a few shades lighter.

"Hullo Asta, ah hope ahm no' late fer anythin."

Turning to the man in armor he offered his hand.
"Hamish, MacGregar, junior templar, at your service ser."

He turned again to the Quinarii and bowed his head,
"Shenadan ser, ahm told ah have blood in common with your kind, mah grandfather was a Tal'Vashoth, its an honor to meet you."

Arkanna knew when to keep her mouth closed—most of the time—and allowed Brad to talk his way through the rather stupid, dawdling guard who stood at his post. The only indication of her tribulation was a small cock of her eyebrow. She noticed, in large cities like Denerim, that coin could almost buy anything. Word of mouth, men and women, weapons, and anything else that you could think of. Bribery was almost necessary in everything you did in the smelly city. “I see no love here,” the half-elf commented warily, staring around at the bustling crowds. The smell of mud and garbage, piss and unwashed body met her noise, which she rightly crinkled in disgust. The smell of slavery. “But I am glad to see you in good spirits, it's a rather rare sight.”

“Let us go then,” Arkanna added, eyeing a particular group of children playing with sticks. Pretending to fend of Darkspawn, she guessed. The small girl resumed to crying when one of the boy's had smacked her on the back, though a rather buxom lady had ended the scuffle quickly as she scooped the girl into her arms. Everything in Denerim seemed to hectic. Compared to the depths of Orzammar, which smelt of rich soil and burning furnaces, it was completely different. Truthfully, she missed the sounds of clanging anvils and the burning tang of metal meeting her nose. Some found Orzammar intimidating rather than endearing, but she loved her homeland more than anything.

Arkanna's gaze drifted towards the miserable group of Elves being pulled along by ropes, human guards leading the front. It irked her that they laughed beneath their armour, clapped each other on the backs as if slavery was a joke—it wasn't, it repulsed her. Even though she wasn't fully their sisters, her Dalish heritage forced her into feeling something. Feeling the repulsion in snatching someones' freedom. Disgusting. Her lips curled in disapproval. “Someday,” She finally said, glancing over her shoulder at Bjeen and Andrei. “It will end. I will end it.” A broad statement for someone in her position. What could a Dwarven princess do? Not that she was even Dwarven. What could a mutt like her do?

When Andrei spoke her opinion on following Brad, Arkanna couldn't help but guffaw. Falling into laughter, she held her stomach and winked in the Dalish elves direction. “Spoken too well, I think I like you already.” She commented through throaty chuckles. Her mare seemed to snort her own response, pawing at the ground impatiently as she awaited Brad to lead them onwards.

Brad looked at his two companions and smirked. Well it was rather obvious that these two weren’t used to the crowded life of Denerim or anything like it, and judging from their body language, he could guess tat they didn’t like the strong mixture of smells that a large city held.
“Very well, ladies, lets get to the castle,” Brad announced and then led the way through the streets, the people automatically making way as Brad prowled through the crowd with his horse, showing little care for whether it was women, children or elder that came across his path; they all received the same shouting, ‘get out of my way!’ or ‘I’ve seen squashed snails move faster than you lot!’

Brad took the group through the main streets of Denerim, he guessed that they wouldn’t appreciate to get too close to the sources of rot and sever stench by taking a short-cut through the more…poverty hit areas of Denerim. Oh, while Brad was thinking of the reasons for why they shouldn’t go through the shaggy homes of the poor and slaves was because he had made a promise to the law enforcers of Denerim that he wouldn’t enter such areas again due to an incident that ended with both damage of public property as well as a fire started.

Brad couldn’t help it. If bandits or thugs tried to attack him then he would defend himself; he had gone maybe a bit out of control and started to storm their homes, starting a neighborhood feud between the gangs which ended with a good quarter of the shags catching fire from the rouge mages. Had the law enforcers believed Brad when he explained that it wasn’t him who had started the fire? Nope. Had they been somewhat thankful of him getting rid of two gangs? Most likely. Were they still mad at him? Oh yeah.

Brad had made a deal with the captain of the local militia that he would leave local enforcement of the law in the hands of the militia and those whom are authorized to do so, unless specifically and directly asked for assistance.



It didn’t take too long to get through the streets and over to the castle. Brad entered the castle through the gates, looking at a man as a guard had to wake him up. The man wasn’t in any particular uniform, so Brad was quite surprised that any of the guards had been bothered to wake him up.
“Tie the horse here,” Brad said and then dismounted as they neared the stables, “And for the love of the Light. Tie it properly, trust me when I say, you can’t trust any of these good-for-nothing guards, once they stole my horse. Not here, but in Orlais.”

“Brad Wilhelm…If it isn’t the devil himself?” a voice called from behind the group. Brad sighed heavily, recognizing the voice of the militia captain.
“I thought ye weren’t gonna show that scared, pretty face of yers here again.” The captain said in a half mocking manner.
“Frankly I have, now excuse me, I have business here,” Brad replied, his cold being as cold as ice towards the captain.
“What’s the rush?” the captain asked and placed a hand on Brad’s chest, preventing him from leaving, “How long have you been gone?”
“Not long enough I can hear,” Brad interrupted and then looked at the hand, “What Chantry should I send the flowers to?”
“I see that you have acquired some humor while you’ve been gone,” the captain replied and then looked at the others.
“No.” Brad said.
“Fine, fine. Just stay out away from the poor’s districts, understood.”
“Hey! They attacked me first-”
“Oh I almost forgot…They attacked you, then you killed some of them and poof, out of nowhere you stand face to face with rouge wizards from the Circle. Wilhelm, you have no sense of reality and your paranoia knows no bounds. Did it ever occur that the elven children likes to splay with stick and stones?”
“You’re a moron. I could clean this hole city in a matter of days!”
“And leave how many alive?”
“Enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“Enough for you to realize how corrupted this hole city is.”
“The day you are stripped from your title as Grey Warden, I will be there, and I shall be the one who pushes you off the chair and see you dangle in air as you slowly die.”
“If that is your best idea for how men can die, then you lack both facts and imagination.”
“I may, but at least I’m realistic, unlike you. Elf killer.”
With the argument ending, the captain turned and left the group. Brad turned to the other two elves, not saying anything at first (mostly since he didn’t know what to say); then he sighed and said, “It’s complicated. Now lets meets the king.”

Brad turned and led the way towards the entrance of the castle, so they could meet the king and receive their mission. Brad wasn’t ready to answer any questions, so if they were going to ask any unless they were very specific, if not, then he would remain silent.

Time was of the essence because for every minute spent in this dull city another Darkspawn would be born and the Grey Wardens challenge would increase in difficulty, but even so Garo couldn't leave. You see, he was still waiting on Asta and the other two Grey Wardens; he didn't care for the dwarf anymore for he was no where to be found anyway. Garo and Arishok had only spoken for a few moments before a familiar figure walked out from the crowd of people walking passed the castle gate. It was Asta and from the looks of it she had spent some of the coins Garo had given her on something useful; a pair of new boots. Her robes moved a little bit forth and back because of the wind. The wind had recently grown stronger and it was gathering for a good storm in a few hours. This was why Garo wanted to leave as soon as possible, to be able to find some cover somewhere outside of Denerim before this storm hits 'em.

"Friend of yours, Garo?" Asta asked upon reaching the two tall figures. Garo only nodded in response because his attention lied elsewhere. Out from the crowd a man wearing the Templars insignia exited and was heading towards the group. This could mean trouble for Asta but it was nothing she couldn't handle and besides, Garo and Arishok was there too. But instead of acting violently towards Asta or any of them, he immediately said hello to Asta as if he knew her and then introduced himself to Garo with a extended hand. Garo accepted the hand and replied swiftly:

"Garo, Valencio, Senior Grey Warden. A pleasure to meet you." Garo didn't often acted with a polite manner but this was a special occasion since he didn't know if a Templar from Ferelden would be offended by his bad manners. The very least thing Garo needed right now was another Templars death on his mind during this mission. After that, the Grey Warden became too caught up with what Arishok told Hamish that he didn't remember to reply to Astas final question, but it could surely wait.

---

Arishok didn't speak much during his conversation with Garo, only some slight nods and grunts from time to time to acknowledge that he was still interested and was listening. He wasn't much for speaking when there was nothing to say. If the opportunity to say something useful or something of meaning he would do so, but for now he remained quiet. That was, until this elf to mage from the looks of it approached them. She spoke with Garo in a familiar manner, as if they knew each other and Arishok took that as a sign that she too was a Grey Warden. But she was still a mage.

"Shanedan, child of the Qun." She greeted him with a strong dialect, yet her words seemed to be filled with respect.

"Shanedan, Elvish mage." Arishok replied with a cold tone. He wanted to make it clear for her that he disliked her kind, but there would be other moments for such matters later on. For now a newcomer had arrived to greet both Asta and then Garo with warm welcomes. Arishok had no idea who this man was because it was unknown to him how the Templar insignia looked like. Nevertheless, the man greeted the Qunari at last, but he chose the most foolish things to say. Arishok restrained himself from cutting the man in several pieces or just snapping his neck in front of everyone.

"You do not share any blood with me, human." The proud Qunari spat out at Hamish with his cold and strong voice. "You will never share any blood with any Qunari, but keep on choosing your words like today and you will most certainly share the blood of my enemies. Your Grandfather might have been a Qunari at some point but the very second he left the Qun he became a Tal'Vashoth; An animal in this world. To the Qun, your grandfather was nothing but a foolish little creature that was blinded by arrogance. The moment he left our order he was a Qunari no more." Arishok seemed to shout, but he only spoke with his normal voice. He spat at Hamish boots before looking him in the eye.

"You do not share any blood with me, human and you never will." Arishok ended his speech and Garo finally stepped in.

"That's enough, Arishok. I don't want a fight on my hands in the middle of Denerim, least outside the very castle. Now, cool it and let's wait a couple of minutes more for the other Wardens to arrive." The Senior warden ordered as he leaned himself against the castles outer walls. Unknown to him and the rest of the group, the two other Wardens plus their new companions just passed them and entered the castle without any of them noticing each other. It seemed like luck would not be on their side today.

After the giants forceful reply Hamish stood in shock for a moment as the shock wore off it was quickly replaced with anger, at Garo's words he quickly relaxed not wanting to cause anymore turmoil with his new companions.

Turning to the Quinari he returned the mans gaze with one of his own meeting the burning desire to inflict harm upon the other in a mutual stare.

"While ah can understand why yer words were chosen so forcefully ser, know that ah merely ment tah engage you in conversation not verbal combat, however this slight on mah honor cannot be allowed once we exit these city walls know that it must be resolved."

Reclenching his fists Hamish gave the Quinari a stiff salute and turned his back on him.

Nice one Hamish, five minutes into this you've already got one wanting to kill you, impressive work.

Hamish leaned against the castles outer wall and pondered for a moment, he supposed he should've chosen his words with greater care, however it was almost unbearable to not be able to avenge his own honor, he cared not for the insult towards his bastard rapist of a grandfather, in calling the unknown man an animal the Quinari had at least that much correct.

Asta noted a group of people, at least one of them Dalish from the tattoos, passing them, but said nothing. Whether they were the other Wardens or not she could not say, but if they had not identified herself and Garo as such, it was just as likely that they were not. Either way, it was not her determination to make, and the last thing she was going to do was assume anything.

The Qunari's response to her was about what she had expected; they were not known for being kind to the leashed dogs they called magi. The Fereldens treated their hounds better, much better actually. Nevertheless, she was not going to engage in the same kind of blind prejudice that seemed to pervade just about every corner of Thedas in some form or another, and in truth she found the Qun itself rather interesting if not wholly applicable. Additionally, Garo had referred to this man as Arishok, which if her recollection was aright, meant that he was rather highly-ranked in Qunari society. This simply made her wonder what he was doing here of all places, and seemingly willing to hunt Darkspawn at that.

Of course, then he went on a monotonous tirade against Hamish, and Asta rolled her eyes. Honor... what a concept. She had met so few people with anything resembling real honor in her entire life, she sometimes doubted it existed at all. Foolish pride in oneself or one's species was not honor, but then she wasn't about to try and tell anyone else that, though; Asta tended to keep such determinations to herself as a rule. They started too many unnecessary conflicts, otherwise. Her opinions otherwise she would share, but not on useless matters.

"Right, well, if we're all done shooting glares at each other and slandering relatives, would anyone care to explain exactly when we are leaving for Ostagar?" She directed the deadpan question mainly at Garo, since he was the only one who would actually know. In doing so, she was intentionally making her status as a Grey Warden explicit, as well as providing some information about what they were doing. She did not have any idea what Arishok did or did not know, but it would all be new to Hamish at the very least.

Aiden sat up and looked at the group of people gathered not too far from the gate, rubbing his chin and sighing heavily. He looked to a guard and pointed at the group, the guard nodding and turning his head. "Well, at least it will be interesting." He threw his bag over his shoulder and stretched his arms out as he approached the small group of people. He held his hand up and gave a small wave to them, "Hey, if I am correct in you being the Grey Wardens, then I am your tour guide on this wonderful expedition of Ferelden. You will see swamps, dead things, and be constantly reminded that this country smells like wet dog." His way of speaking was indirect, as he didn't really know who was who. He knew the qunari wasn't a Warden because, well, he was a qunari. The girl seemed a little young, but its hard to tell these days.

"I don't know how many of you are supposed to be here and how many of those supposed to be's are in fact here. If all of you are ready it would be best to head out as soon as possible, we need to make it to the Brecilian Forest by night fall. If we don't then we will likely have to try to find our way through that maze at night. Even the dalish aren't brave enough to try it, and they live in it." Aiden turned his attention back to his own thoughts. If they made it to the forest by night, he could surely track a roaming group of dalish and possibly seek shelter. The dalish weren't exactly known for their hospitality, but he would figure something out, he always does. At least, that's what he tells himself.

Garo didn't pay much attention to the smell that cursed this city and all it's people. He had already got used to it, but he still hoped that they could soon leave the city and travel to Ostagar. Garo didn't pay any attention to what Hamish told Arishok and even less attention to what Arishok did or say in response. Those things wasn't important. What was important was for them to leave as soon as possible to prevent the Darkspawn from slaughtering more innocent people. Yet without any guide and no more backup this would prove to be a hard task indeed. Garo let out a heavy sigh when Asta asked when they were leaving for Ostagar, but before he could answer a young man approached the group, waving while doing so.

"Hey, if I am correct in you being the Grey Wardens, then I am your tour guide on this wonderful expedition of Ferelden. You will see swamps, dead things, and be constantly reminded that this country smells like wet dog." The man said with a fake smile. Garo observed him closely while he continued to speak.
He told them that they had to leave soon because they had to reach the Brecilian Forest by night fall. He also revealed that Dalish elves lived there which wasn't much of a surprise to Garo, but nevertheless it was as good information as any at this point. Turning to Asta, the Senior Grey warden began to call out orders:

"There you have your answer. Go, tell the king that if any of the other wardens arrives he needs to inform them where we are heading. When this is done meet us by the city gates. Hamish, that was your name right? Never mind. Take these coins and buy enough supplies for three men. Meet us by the gates."

After that, Garo placed his steel covered hand on the tour guides shoulder as he lead him towards the gates. Arishok followed them with steady footsteps.

"Now you never told me your name." Was the last thing Hamish and Asta would have heard from Garo before running off to complete their tasks.

When the young man mentioned being a tour guide, Asta raised an eyebrow. Lovely. She had nothing against whomever this person was, but at the same time, she was already beginning to feel that there was an overload of people and not enough of them were Wardens. No matter how good you were with a sword or bow, if you couldn't sense Darkspawn, that meant more work for Garo and herself.

Or maybe just herself, she reflected ans Garo ordered her to go back in and talk to the king. She hadn't actually talked to him before, mind you, and she could think of a number of things she'd rather do, including getting shot through the neck with an arrow and challenging Arishok to a barehanded fight. That was about how well she thought this was going to go over. She didn't much like taking blunt orders besides, but that was something she had signed up for, insofar as she had voluntarily committed to any of this.

Sighing, she turned on her heel and marched past the guards, who didn't particularly wish to question her presence, apparently. On her way in, she passed the group of people who had walked past earlier. "Oi, are you lot the Wardens from Free Marches? Garo already has our orders, you should go find him. He should still be out there. I'll deal with the king." In so saying, she continued until she was once again at the door to the throne room, which was promptly opened once more with just one glare from Asta. Sometimes, being intimidating helped things along.

---

Asta still wasn't sure what to make of that monarch, she reflected on her way out, but she'd probably never have to interact with him again, so it was fine. He knew where they were going anyway, and would inform anyone who came looking for them, assuming that group she had passed, the man and two women (plus a Mabari), were not in fact the ones in question.

In any event, she headed back to the gates, studiously ignoring the hawkers and beggars that called to her along her way.