Chapter Text
In the dead of the night when most were asleep, something-- no, someone stirred. People. Two people. One of them hid in shadow, moved quickly and silently, knowing they were being followed. The other one? Well…
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” They ran after the other, exasperated and tired, “staff, I’m gonna need you to work! I didn’t spend all of the money in my pockets on you for nothing…!”
The mage took their staff off of their back, pointing it directly at the one they were after.
One shot. Two shots. A third should do it--
Huh?
They looked around. They’d lost their target… big time. They grumbled. “This is why I fucking hate rogues…”
Making sure to watch their back, they kept moving. If one wasn’t careful, the first thing they’d get from a rogue is a quick stab in the back.
“Listen, I know you’re here.. Somewhere… and are probably going to backstab me. That’s not important,” flames sprouted from their hand, “Why are you doing this?! Who hired you?”
“Kinda surprised you’re a few steps ahead,” The other said, prompting the mage to turn around. The rogue--presumably an assassin, because why else would they be here, at the royal palace , in the dead of night if they weren’t planning to cause trouble--leaned on a nearby terrace. “Most people don’t have that privilege. You’re a smart one. Shame you’re in my way.”
The assassin's accent was heavy-- Antivan --the mage presumed.
Oh boy.
The assassin lunged at them, stabbing through them and then stabbing into their back before they could even respond, giving them nothing to do but fall to their knees.
They were dizzy from the mere pain of being stabbed--their wounds were hurting more than they should and felt like they were burning, which probably meant there was a corrosive poison coating the assassin’s daggers. This was bad. They couldn’t think straight enough to heal themself--did they even know any healing spells? They should, but that doesn’t mean that they will know anything. Either way, they couldn’t jog their memory on it.
Wait--right--the situation at hand. They tried to focus on the assassin, but they only found that the assassin had gone back into the shadows and they, at this point, couldn’t think coherently enough to see where the assassin was or had gone.
Until they heard a bow fire behind them. They turned around, only to be knocked back by the arrow hitting them square on their chest.
This was too much for them to handle. They knew they shouldn’t have taken up this job.
“I think it’s about time for me to stop and get onto the main attraction, no? It'd be a waste of everyone's time if I didn't,” The assassin laughed--almost wickedly. “The Crows send their regards.” they signed off, leaving the mage to die.
Right. It was a Crow. Of fucking course it was a Crow! Had everything a Crow needs; a fancy Antivan accent, expertly honed rogue like prowess, all that other bullshit.
And now they were going to die. They had no choice but to die, right? Bleeding out, barely able to move, they were going to die and they knew it.
They did realize that they could just, yknow, use a healing spell. They could actually think straight now, so what was stopping them? Nothing?
After getting that arrow out of their chest and hastily using a healing spell, they ran to the nearest gate and let themselves out.
-----
They found themselves in a town about half an hour--was it a whole hour? Doesn’t matter--after running. They didn’t want to stick around the palace, and that’s why they left, because if they’d stayed and remained alive, they’d be pinned as responsible--maker knows they won’t find the assassin behind the murder. That’s the last thing they wanted. As far as the Orlesian government is concerned, they’re a dead mage. An unimportant cog in the endless machine who’s no longer a templar’s eternal headache.
They dipped into a nearby bar. As soon as they stepped in, they scanned the room. It was mostly empty--the bar was. A few humans, some dwarves, the bartender. They were all focused on their own things
“Hey you, mage,” Someone--the bartender--said, grabbing the mage’s attention, “What can I get for you?”
The bartender was a dwarven woman with short hair that looped around at the front.
“Oh? Uh, some mead would be good.”
“Right. That’ll be 5 silvers,” The mage took a second and pulled out their money pocket and grabbed five silvers. “This’ll take a minute, so go ahead and find yourself a seat.”
“All right, then,” The mage walked over to an open table--which wasn’t that hard, there were a lot of open tables save like three--and took a seat.
They found themselves zoning out, staring straight ahead of them and not thinking about much, if anything. They shook their head and leaned back in their chair, only to jump at someone suddenly being on the other side.
“‘S not a nice way to greet someone,” the other person said. The mage took a quick look at him. The man screamed Fereldan. “Sorry to startle you. My name is Andrew. You looked lonely, so I figured I’d invite myself over. I’m all for meeting new people.”
“Emily,” The mage--Emily responded, reaching out to shake Andrew’s hand. Andrew returned the handshake, and then leaned back in his chair. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’ve got a question, Emily, you don’t look awfully out of place, but you do look awfully lost. What brings you here?”
Woah. Loaded question. Emily thought about it for a minute. They could just say ‘Oh I was just walking around town and found this tavern. I’ve never been here before’ which is only a small portion of the truth, but then they’d probably be asked ‘what brings you to the town?’ which is an extremely unanswerable question.
They shook their concern off and said ‘Fuck it’.
“Ah, I’ve never been here before. I’m on a journey--up north--and decided to drop by and take a rest.”
“Journey up north, huh?” Andrew looked over at the group he was sitting with before, gesturing them to come to the table, “so you’re an adventurer?”
“I…. yes. You could call me that.”
“So what was this fuss about, Andrew?” A human mage sighed, approaching the table. He was being tailed by another person who was presumably part of their small group.
“Another adventurer, Nick!”
“I told you we’d find one eventually, but that’s not why we came here.”
“Right. We came here because you wanted to visit your partner.”
“Yes, and If you didn’t want to tag along with me you could have just stayed in Ferelden.”
“Ferelden is boring. Also, you’re weak and need someone like myself looking out for you because--”
“Right, right, because I’m a mage. Maker, you sound like a wannabe templar,” Nick grunted, sitting down across from Emily. The other person--who was now presumably Nick’s partner, sat down next to them. “Sorry about that. I’m Nick, and this,” he gestured to the person next to Emily, “Is my partner, CK. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you both, too.”
“Hate to ruin the moment but it appears your mead is here,” Andrew mumbled, prompting Emily to look to the left. Lo and behold, the bartender was just standing there, holding emily’s mead.
“Ah! Sorry,” Emily nervously laughed, taking the mead, “Thank you, miss… uh…”
“Just call me Isa,” She shrugged, stalling at the table for a moment, “uh… so, you all are adventurers, yeah?”
“Emily, Andrew, and I, yeah. Why?” Nick inquired.
“Well,” Isa sighed, “I overheard you all talking and I got intrigued. I always wanted to be an adventurer.”
“Really?” Andrew lit up, “we could show you a thing or two.”
“Sorry. I’ve got a tavern to run,” Isa said, defeated.
“Tavern, shmavern. Come with us. We’re planning to go north with our trusty Emily here.”
“You guys must’ve really hit it off, then, if you trust each other enough to travel together so soon.”
“Yeah… sure,” Emily took a sip of their mead. They barely even hit it off. Glancing diagonally, they noticed Andrew staring daggers at them.
They put their mead down, albeit hastier than they thought they did.
“Hm? ‘S everything okay?” Isa asked.
“I’m going to be honest, I’m not sure about you two, but I have a motive going north,” Emily admitted. “There’s been mass attempts at assassinations of major political powers across Thedas lately, and I’d like to get down to the bottom of it. Maker knows nobody else will.”
“Where does that lead you?” Andrew blurted, “Hm?”
“The abyss! Fuck, where do you think it leads me?” They took another swig of their mead, “It takes me to Antiva .”
Andrew did nothing but nod, still staring daggers into Emily.
“Ah, so we’re saving Thedas, yeah?” Nick exclaimed, almost as happy as a child would be if their parents were to give them a cookie for good behavior--or something of the sort, “I’ve always wanted to do something like this!”
“I guess I could close the tavern for a while,” Isa placed her hand on emily’s shoulder, “if you’re taking on who I think you’re taking on, you’ll need a lot more people with you than just yourself. Plus, we might all learn a little something along the way.”
Andrew and Nick nodded in response, as if to confirm Isa’s statement.
“Ah,” Emily seemed taken aback by all of this, “This is really happening, then? We’re-- we’re doing this?”
“Of course we are!” Nick exclaimed, “I mean, of course we are. There’s a problem, it needs fixed, and we’ll be the ones to fix it. It’ll be great!”
Yeah, sure. It’ll be great .