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[TreeHuggerHannah]

Tempest smelled the dead man before she saw him, but the sight still make her draw in a horrified breath - a breath she regretted when the odor forcefully assailed her nostrils.

 

"Maker receive his soul," she said quietly, kneeling for a moment to pray. 

 

When she stood, she saw the others examining the wounds. The consensus seemed to be that it wasn't wolves; having spent most of her life in a circle in a city-state, Tempest couldn't vouch for that one way or the other, but she believed her comrades. 

 

"Those don't look like bites," she said. Tempest held up her hand with her fingers splayed, demonstrating how equidistant marks could be made with claws, unlike with a set of teeth.

 

"Do any of you know what could do this?" Tempest added doubtfully, unsure herself.

[berelinde]

 

 

"Do any of you know what could do this?" Tempest added doubtfully, unsure herself.

"Dane's werewolves, mayap," Beldin said, his voice flat, analytical. "And nobody's seen them for a thousand years. Bear will take a swipe at a man, or mountain cats, but their claws don't go deep enough to gut him."

 

He rose from his crouch. He owed it to the dead man to commit the scene to memory and learn from it what he could, but a man could only stare at innards for so long.

 

"Don't know about the rest of you," he said, "but I'm thinking poor Keltin here has told us all he has to tell. We've still got nine people to find. Let's hope they're holed up in the root cellar or something."

[Mahumia]

Bartha looked around when something caught her eye. She knelt down at some flattened barley stalks. "Whatever it is, it's big... Look at this"  She pointed towards a trail where the flattened stalks were pointing in another direction than the other stalks on the field. "This appears to lead to the houses over there... too bad the ground is too dry to give any good footprints though." She stood up and looked at the farmers houses in the distance, before looking at the rest of the team. "I agree that we should search for any survivors first... shall we follow the trail?"

[Lorien19]

Laurelin nodded in agreement and stood up.
She heard tales of werewolves before,preying on adventurers who were brave or foolish enough,to delve into the depths of the Brecilian forest and close to their lair.
But she never encountered one to confirm that these creatures really existed,that they weren't a mere fabrication of her people,in order to keep unwanted visitors away from their camp.
She glanced around and then back at Beldin,Bartha and Tempest "The farmhouse,would be a good place to look."She said,her voice muffled "Hopefully Beldin is right and the rest of them are hiding there."

[ChachiBobinks]

Etienne let out a huff of air, then offered Rael a weak smile. "I'm only the Maker's hands, non?" Pulling himself up with the aid of his staff, he brushed the dirt from his trousers and glanced back to Tessa. "She will be fine here for now, but her infection is severe. She will need more help than I can give, messere." 

 

Motioning for Rael to go before him, Etienne slid his staff on to his back and grimaced as they rejoined Tessa at the door. He peered around the woman's shoulder, looking for... well, he wasn't sure what. "And I believe she has been injured for some time. We must stay vigilant." 

 

(Team 3 ready to go!)

[mysteriouspast]

Rael walked through the barn doors and shielded her eyes from the garish sunlight. Where to next? She did not wish to tell the others what little hope she had for finding any survivors here. Surely they'd made enough noise by battling the wolves and tromping around the barn to alert anyone who was hiding. No, the most likely conclusion was that everyone in the family was dead or long fled. She silently prayed for the latter.

 

"Let's try the farmhouse," she said pointing across the road to the large wooden structure ahead. She doubted they'd find anyone there, but possibly there would be evidence that would tell them more about the fate of this unlucky family.

[berelinde]

Fuldor's Farm Follow-up

 

Once outside the field of barley stubble, Bartha's trail disappears, but it is not hard to tell where it was going. It was heading straight toward the houses and outbuildings of the farm. She and her team approach just as Etienne, Rael, and Tessa emerge from the barn. Their paths converge in front of the old stone well.

 

Spoiler

 

{Trying out the new looks for Etienne and Tessa}

[mysteriouspast]

By happenstance, the entire group had reconvened at the center of the farm. Rael waved to them and walked over to Laurelin. "There's an injured Dalish in the barn over there," she said with a helpful gesture. "Etienne's magic saved her life," she added in a voice tinged with awe.

[TreeHuggerHannah]

Tempest nodded agreement that they should continue searching for survivors.

 

"We should come back and burn the body," she said. "It's more respectful, and frankly I'd rather the remains not... turn into anything other than remains, since we don't know if a natural or unnatural creature killed him."

 

The last thing they needed to deal with was reanimated corpses. Tempest didn't know if such a thing could even be possible under the circumstances, but she wasn't inclined to take any chances. Even as Beldin had suggested werewolves, Tempest's own mind had leaped immediately to demons or abominations, given her own frame of reference. She wasn't inclined to risk leaving a body lying around for a wicked spirit to inhabit.

 

"But I agree, finding the survivors is the priority."

 

Preserving the lives of the living was indeed more important than tending to the dead. When they reconvened at the stone well, Tempest was relieved to hear that Etienne had saved the Dalish woman.

 

"Well done," she said approvingly. "I think we should split up and check the houses next. That's where more people are likely to be, isn't it? Time may be of the essence if they're injured. Is the woman you healed safe for now?"

[berelinde]

"Etienne's magic saved her life," she added in a voice tinged with awe.

"Etienne's magic."

 

Were Beldin in better command of his faculties, he would have checked his boiled leather cuirass for the dent his jaw must have left.

 

The young man - the mage - had not lied to him, he reminded himself firmly. He said he could defend himself, but he never perjured himself by saying how. But Beldin felt bet betrayed all the same. Somehow, he managed to stop himself from dropping to one knee and reciting some six or seven stanzas from the Canticle of Transfigurations, but he could not help muttering a line or two from Trials:

 

"I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Fade.

For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light

And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost."

 

The other woman was speaking, the one whose name he did not yet know. She accepted the fact that she was traveling in the company of a practicing mage as if it were an everyday occurrence... and she also bore no visible weapon. Was every mage in Ferelden among them? But she had a point. They had a job to do. If the mages were going to melt his face, they had ample opportunity to do it before now.

 

"Aye," he said aloud, with more steel in his voice than he felt. "Let us do what we can for those who aren't past mortal aid."

 

He touched Bartha's shoulder to get her attention. He flinched inwardly at the physical contact, but he managed to keep his voice steady and professional.

 

"Cellars and attics, do you think?" he asked.

[ChachiBobinks]

Etienne hung back as they reconvened. The barn was somehow okay but outside, Maker, it was horrid. The smells and sights, the death that hung in the air around him... it was like thick air in his lungs. Grimacing, he brought a small cloth out of his pocket to cover his nose.

 

He found himself so distracted by his disgust alone that he startled when Tempest spoke to him. Brows risen in interest, he nodded. "She is to survive, I believe. We have to get her help as soon as we can. My work can only go so far and she is gravely ill." He offered her a smile. Her own work on the battlefield was impressive, but not as much as what she did after. "You are quite capable yourself, non? Perhaps you should join us, in case we need a second healer?" 

[TreeHuggerHannah]

"I'm glad the woman will live," Tempest replied. "We should take her to safety as soon as we've searched for other survivors. Unfortunately it appears Keltin is dead, Maker rest his soul."

 

At first, the other mage's idea didn't make sense to Tempest. If there were two healers in the group - Tempest wasn't sure if Laurelin had that skill too - wouldn't it make more sense to divide them among the party? Or even for her to stay with the injured woman?

 

The more she thought about it, though, she realized that it was likely that she'd be joining a group more likely to find survivors given the search plans indicated so far, so her skills would be of more use.

 

"I will," Tempest said. "If anyone else needs a healer, yell for me and I'll come as soon as I can. It's probably best that we not wander too far from each other anyway, with Maker-knows-what on the loose out here."

[Mahumia]

Bartha nodded at Tempest suggestion: "Those unlucky ones deserve a proper funeral indeed."

 

Bartha let out a sigh of relief when the whole group met at the well and exchanged their findings. "Wonderful news that you found a survivor. As Tempest said: we found someone, probably Keltin, who was less fortunate." She made a gesture behind her, in the direction where they found the remains. "We followed some tracks which let to here. Did you find any clues?" 

 

She looked back and forth between Tempest and Etienne when he suggested to split up the group. "Makers breath, how many mages do we have with us? Anyway, I would suggest to not make the groups too small. Who knows what could be lurking out there..."  

 

"I will," Tempest said. "If anyone else needs a healer, yell for me and I'll come as soon as I can. It's probably best that we not wander too far from each other anyway, with Maker-knows-what on the loose out here."

 

She pondered and looked at Tempest. "Maybe you could check out the injured woman and see if she is stable? I agree it would be a good idea if we stay within hearing distance of eachother... And fair enough, than we can split up and search faster if you want to." 

 

She looked up when she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Cellars and attics, do you think?" the blonde man asked. Bartha nodded at him: "Good idea, let us not waste time". She addressed the others. "We'll give a shout if we find anyone, or anything." 

[mysteriouspast]

Rael surveyed the houses they still needed to search. There seemed to be nothing to distinguish one from the other, but she remembered Kesla's description of the area and knew at least which family members lived in which house.

 

"We can go search Edred and Mirren's house," she suggested, catching Tessa's eye. It was the closest, and the thought of standing around any longer than this seemed ill-advised. She motioned for the house and said to Tessa, "If you'd like to go with me, Tessa, I'll have your back." 

 

Then she looked back over her shoulder at Etienne and Tempest. "We may need a healer again," she said to them, but looked directly at Etienne. "At least, I hope we will."

[BFace]

"Let us do what we can for those who aren't past mortal aid." 

 

 When the big man said this, Tessa had a sudden flash of an earlier comment. 'And thank you for saving my life. You fight well!' 

'Oh,' she thought to herself and hoped she didn't blush. She wrinkled her nose, then rubbed it to put her thoughts back where they ought to be.

 

"We can go search Edred and Mirren's house."

 

Tessa nodded at the elf.  That seemed as good a place to start as any. As Rael spoke, Tess followed her gaze to Etienne.  

 

"She's right.  Think you can do what you did for that elf again, if the Maker lets us find folks who haven't gone to His side?"

[Lorien19]

Laurelin's eyes widened,when Rael told her about the Dalish woman in the barn.
"She's alive?Thank the creators!"She suspected that the injured woman,was possibly a member of the Eladiel clan.
She looked at Etienne,a faint smile of gratitude on her lips "Thank you."
Her attention now on Tempest"I'm no healer,so there's nothing I can do to help her"She looked down at her feet and then back at her"When she gains consciousness,please let me know.I need to speak to her immediately."
Laurelin gripped her staff,there was no point in pretending that she wasn't a mage anymore.Especially considering the fact,that everyone saw her casting a spell a few minutes ago.
Hesitantly,she followed Bartha and Beldin.
"Off to the cellars then..."
She mumbled to herself,in displeasure

[ChachiBobinks]

"Maybe you could check out the injured woman and see if she is stable? I agree it would be a good idea if we stay within hearing distance of eachother... And fair enough, than we can split up and search faster if you want to." 

 

"She'll be fine for now," he reassured Bartha. "But we must hasten. Her injuries were grave and if there were others, they might not be as lucky."

 

Etienne wasn't fond of attention often, and took their remarks and praise in good turn. It was the elven mage's reaction that got him. His face then lit up brightly as he motioned at Laurelin. "Right! You're Dalish!" He said it with the sort of excitement and vigor that indicated that he thought he might have been, quite possibly, the first person to figure that out. "If she is well enough to awaken, you could ask her what happened! She spoke of 'the revengers.' That might mean something to you." 

 

Noticing that his group was leaving him, he held up a finger to the elf. "But we'll talk of that later." 

 

With a parting smile, he jogged to catch up with Tempest. "A moment of your time while we walk please, messere?"

[Lorien19]

Etienne's words were distracting enough to keep her from focusing on the task at hand,what on earth were these "revengers"and would they attack the farmers.
She didn't know what a revenger was but it definitely sounded ominous enough,to distress her.
But what if they returned,what if the elvhen woman the human rescued was still in danger.

Laurelin stopped walking in a rather abrupt manner,finding survivors was important but that elvhen woman and her clan,was the reason she was there in the first place.It was her duty and her obligation,to make sure that she was safe.
"A moment please!"She called after Beldin and Bartha,who were still walking"I want to see the Elvhen woman for myself".

[berelinde]

Laurelin enters to find the elvhen woman inside. You do not recognize her, but from the descriptions your Keeper gave you, she could be Eshara, First to Keeper Orrelis. She is lying on her side inside one of the stalls. You examine her injuries and determine that they are several days old and badly infected. Moreover, she seems to have sustained them elsewhere, and crawled here under her own power, perhaps to escape whatever killed Keltin. Her face is pale and feverish, but she shows no signs of distress. Her breathing is steady and calm.

 

The back door of the barn is closed and locked from the inside. The few domestic farm animals you see are all in their stalls. They are placid and uninjured, and most are asleep, although one cow moos softly as you pass.

 

The elvhen woman is unconscious, but she does not seem to be in any immediate danger from either her injuries or from her surroundings. She needs care and nursing, but you see no reason why she would not survive the hour or two it will take you to explore the farm, provided you close the door behind you as you leave.

[Lorien19]

Laurelin sighed with relief,she was glad that her life wasn't in immediate danger,anymore.
"Could she be Eshara,keeper Orrelis' first?"She wondered,if so that woman was also a mage and a powerful one,otherwise keeper Orrelis wouldn't have chosen her,to be his first.
Whatever creatures injured her to such an extent,were certainly a force to be reckoned with.
Laurelin,gave one last concerned look to the elvhen woman,before leaving the barn.
Making sure that the door behind her was closed and secured.

[Mahumia]

"A moment please!"Laurelin called after Beldin and Bartha,who were still walking"I want to see the Elvhen woman for myself".

 

Bartha stopped and looked at the blonde man with a puzzled look on her face. "The wha..? Oh, of course, the one Etiennes group found." She muttered, before slapping herself to the forehead and turning towards Laurelin. "Let us know if you need more time... I'm not sure if it is wise to stay there alone." The words were probably lost to the wind, as Laurelin was already running towards the barn.

[Lorien19]

Laurelin left the barn,a reassured look in her eyes.Her conscience was now clear and she could focus on the task at hand.
Laurelin smiled as she approached Beldin and Bartha,her mood had clearly improved,but the smile faded, as soon as she remembered the direness of the situation.
"She'll live"She said calmly "We can now proceed".

[berelinde]

"The others cleared the barn," Beldin said quietly, keeping his voice low in hopes that it would sound steadier that way.

 

Courage was a strange beast. When he first saw the wolves loping toward him across the field, he readied his axe and met their charge without hesitation or fear, but now, his knees trembled at the thought that he was in the company of not one but three mages. Child-eating witches and blood-drenched Tevinter magisters stalked through his grandmother's stories, sparing only the good children who ate their lentils and did their chores without being asked twice. His grandmother's tales were probably no more than they seemed - parables to teach obedience and gratitude - but these days, he had worse on his conscience than petty childhood failings.

 

And he was already off to a bad start. He arrived at the farm with good intentions, but he had needed a rescue before he had even crossed the lane. And what a display it had been! They found him flat on his back with his legs in the air and a wolf at his throat like a cloak pin. And they were pretty. Maybe not in an exotic way like the elves or in a lithe, willowy way like the black-haired mage, but their sturdy frames and bloody competence stirred his blood more than any slender ankle or delicate jawline ever could. And there he had been, awkward and impotent. His cheeks still burned at the shame of it.

 

But he was wasting time. The Dalish mage, Laurelin, had already reappeared, and she was making her way toward them.

 

"I'm Beldin," he said hastily, inclining his head toward Bartha and the brown-haired warrior. The two human mages were conversing quietly with each other, and he did not want to interrupt. "I owe you my life from before. A name's a poor trade for it, but it's all I've got."

 

He cleared his throat and nodded toward the cellar door.

 

"We should probably act fast," he said.

[berelinde]

Plot Post, Bartha's Team

 

Summary: Bartha's Team enters the cellar to find the remains of Edred and Quint.

 

As you approach the cellar door, you see that it lies askew in its frame, as if it were ripped open forcibly and allowed to fall as it would. The well-worn wooden stairs beyond the door are clear with no sign of blood or debris, but the wooden door at their base is ajar, its latch broken. It is daylight outside, but yellow light spills out around the edges of the door.

 

The cool air that wafts up at your descent carries familiar smells, potatoes and onions put up for the winter, but there is an unpleasant, steely undertone to it, much like meat hung up to age.

 

You open the door to find the worst of your fears confirmed. The lantern light is dim compared to the midday sunlight of the yard, but it is not hard to make out the shapes on the cellar floor.

 

The first is that of a middle-aged male, grey-haired and bearded, still clutching a pitchfork in his lifeless hands. Blood congeals on stone around him, but it no longer flows from the lacerations that took his life. Like Keltin, Edred's remains are marked by claws.

 

Sadder still is what he died to protect.

 

Four year old Quint lies behind Edred, huddled against a pile of sacks. He clutches a cloth doll like a talisman, but only the spirits can protect him now. The relative lack of gore on his clothing and on the floor suggest that his death was almost instantaneous, a severed windpipe.

 

Spoiler

[ChachiBobinks]

"A moment of your time while we walk please, messere?"

 

Tempest very briefly and almost imperceptibly startled when she was addressed. There was a heartbeat's hesitation as she assessed whether Etienne was a threat but then, deciding he was not - at least not in any immediate sense - she smiled.

 

Spoiler

 

"Of course," she said. "No need for 'messere.' My name is Tempest. What can I do for you?"

 

"Tempest," he repeated. "I like that name, messe- Tempest." Manners were a hard habit to break. His hands moved to clasp behind his back. "I hope you do not mind. I saw what you did on the field and it was breathtaking. I am sorry - I did not know that I traveled with other mages." He offered her a wider smile.

 

Tempest flushed a deep crimson. She was deeply flattered to have her magic praised in such generous terms - she had never been called "breathtaking" in any context before, and knew she likely never would again - but also a little embarrassed and worried. She had drawn too much attention. That wasn't a good idea.

 

Etienne was the sort to give praise where praise was due. People rarely heard enough of it. "Ah, thank you," he replied genuinely. "Though I feel your compliments are misplaced... I nearly dropped my staff in fright twice!" He shivered and pulled a face.

 

The fight had frightened him and very closely paid attention would have revealed at least a few signs of his nerves. He was, first and foremost, a healer. The transition to something else left him more than a little shaky.

 

"I was frightened, too," Tempest admitted. "It's a natural emotion in a fight. You did well, though. The important part is getting through."

 

"Thank you," she said. "You are most kind. Your own magic was very impressive. And I'm glad you like the name; I chose it myself. May I ask your name in return, messere?"

 

Offering his hand, he dipped his head cordially. "I am Etienne Durand, from the Circle of Magi at Kinloch Hold."

 

She shook the offered hand. Her sleeve flopped back slightly, but the linen wrappings ensured no skin was visible on her wrists.

 

It was a risk, allowing the conversation to proceed, but it was nice to have a friendly face. If they were going to be traveling together for a time, surely there was no harm in pleasantries.

 

 

 

 

"Please to meet you, Etienne. It's a nice name. I'm afraid I don't have a surname of my own reciprocate. Kinloch Hold, hm? I've never been there, but a friend has told me all about how lovely Lake Calenhad is."

 

"Really?" he replied gratefully, expelling a quick breath and running a gloved hand through his hair. "Maker, I'm glad to hear you say that. I've got plans to go cry quietly in a corner once we're back at the inn. I'm afraid I'm overwhelmed! Overwhelmed but... somewhat normal, yes?" He stood a little more proudly after that. Battle was a rush and this one, his first. Sparring was something else entirely. There was comfort and relief in knowing that your fight would never end with anyone in danger. Battle was completely different.

 

As his hand slipped away from her's, the flash of material wrapped around her wrist caught his attention. Outside fashion was so foreign to him. It must have been a comfortable alternative to heavy gold bands or ornate jewelry. His gaze lifted back up to meet hers the moment she mentioned the lake.

 

"I trust your friend advised you of the various sea monsters that fill the lake, yes?”

 

"Entirely normal," Tempest agreed. "Perhaps if you fight enough battles, you get used to it. I wouldn't know. My life doesn't involve much fighting."

 

Well, not fighting of the physical variety, anyway. She did wrestle with the nightmares, and with keeping the darker thoughts and memories at bay.

 

A faint, amused smile curved her lips when he spoke of Lake Calenhad. "No, my friend said nothing of this - a serious oversight, perhaps? But surely they would be lake monsters. Calenhad is not the sea, after all. Freshwater versus saltwater, no? Different creatures entirely."

 

The expression on her face suggested she understood that he was pulling her leg, and she was playing along in her own peculiar way.

 

"...we had them imported," he replied indignantly. "From Orlais. It is a serious oversight, indeed. And you should have words with your friend for denying you the knowledge"

 

He never went into a conversation thinking that it was a game, or some sort of sport, but there was an undeniable sense of relief the moment they just went with whatever he had to say. It was how he built rapport with his fellow mages. He'd rather speak of sea monsters than terrifying battles any day.

 

"In fact," he continued, "many people have asked me, 'Etienne? How did you get from Val Royeaux to Lake Calenhad?' I am always fearful to tell them, as it is my greatest secret. But I will tell you now, Tempest." His gaze moved from her to their companions, lingering on Rael a few beats longer than anyone else. "I triumphantly rode in on a water chariot pulled by fifteen sea monsters. All at the age of fifteen."

 

She didn't fail to notice Etienne's glance lingering on Rael. So that was how things were. Tempest had to hide a smile. That was nice for them. She hoped it would work out for them. Surely love was a bright spot in a world full of darkness. Tempest chuckled, then pulled her face into an expression of mock seriousness and awe. It felt good, joking around with someone like she did at home.

 

"That is amazing, Etienne Durand of Kinloch Hold! Truly, you are a mage to be feared! Even these mighty creatures bend to your iron will."

 

Etienne pulled his shoulders back proudly and gave her a firm nod. "And then I set them free to live their lives out in the lake, safe from Orlesian nobility. They'd have been trussed up with beads and rubies, plated in gold. They are very popular pets, you see."

 

Prior to his Harrowing, Etienne spent almost all the time he had (outside of his studies) building incredulous stories about the outside world with the other children. It gave them hope, and in some ways solace, to think of the outside as a place filled with odd things they'd not want to meet face-to-face. It was one thing to say 'you should be locked away in here for safety reasons' and another entirely to add 'because one-hundred foot giants and flying waterfowl will attack you.'

 

Shaking his head, he shrugged and clasped his hands behind his back again. "I miss then, you know. They're named. Each one. My own family back at the Circle, those sea monsters."

 

Tempest smiled at that. "Ser, you are truly a humanitarian as well as a formidable mage. It was a great gift to those sea monsters, saving them from fashion and politics. Two things I myself have very little patience for. Will you return to the circle someday? You and your sea monster family could be together again."

 

Etienne missed his Circle with it's rounded walls and steadfastness. His expectations were clear and firm at all times. Life rarely changed and while there was excitement every few days, and typically not the type he wanted to get involved in, turbulence just wasn't something he was used to. The part of him that cherished solace guaranteed he thought about going home almost constantly.

 

"Always here to serve," he replied, head bowed. "I shall, yes. I have just a fortnight till I will either need to request an extension or return to the Circle. We'll have much to talk about. They're unfamiliar with fine wine and dusty roads. And you? Which do you hail from?"

 

Tempest nodded her understanding. She should have seen the reciprocal question coming, but it still managed to take her up short. She wasn't sure how to answer. Any misstep could be danger, but Tempest was neither skilled at dissembling nor had much patience for it.

 

"I... erm... it's complicated. I'm originally from Kirkwall. I was trained there, but I had to leave."

 

"Oh," he replied, brows raised. "Did you know Enchanter Saleiri? She was elven, from Denerim. I was her apprentice."

 

It was as if he assumed that she had simply been moved to another Circle. Surely she wasn't an apostate. Those were mean, nasty, wicked souls who tormented the innocent and performed blood magic on every street corner. Or at least that's the impression he was given by the lay sisters. Tempest was clearly no maleficar.

 

"I'm sure she was there around the same time as you. I bet she's about your age."

 

Tempest nodded. "I knew her," she said. "We weren't close. I... kept my distance from people, back in Kirkwall."

 

If she had gotten too close to anyone, her secret might have gotten out. Had that happened, she probably would have been killed. Although introverted, Tempest was a social creature. Isolating herself had been difficult and against her nature. Even so, survival instinct had proven even stronger. She'd been friendly with many, but had no close friends to speak of.

 

"She's a good woman and a talented mage. I thought well of her."

 

"I'm sure she would be pleased to know that you are well," he replied, "should you like for me to inform her."

 

He thought Saleiri to be the most talented mage he had encountered and for many years, her opinion dictated his. By approving of his former instructor, a million possibly false conclusions could be immediately drawn. She didn't say 'That Saleiri was a Chantry watch-dog and her compliance was a danger to all mages.' He had heard that opinion many times and knew that once it came out, it was best for him to stop listening.

 

"She is in Amaranthine now, should that be part of your travels."

 

"I would appreciate it if you would be so kind as to pass my well-wishes on to Enchanter Saleiri," Tempest said cautiously. "I'm not so sure she would think highly of me, though. I've made some decisions that she would not understand. There were things in Kirkwall she was not aware of. Still, I am happy to hear she is well."

 

Frowning, Etienne took a moment to straighten out his doublet. His former teacher had been the pinnacle of grace and kindness. It was hard for him to believe that she'd look down on anyone. "I will," he replied, pausing to knock a bit of Maker-knows-what that had dried to one of his buttons. "Though I am sorry to hear that. She is a very accepting woman. I can't imagine what you would have done that she'd not understand." Shaking his head, his eyes lifted back up to her and his lips raised with a smile. "I am sure you are fine, messere. I have done some stupid things and she never judged me, not once."

 

Tempest wondered if she should just drop the subject. But no, he'd find out as soon as he mentioned her to his teacher. Asking him not to speak of her would just have made it worse. If she just told him the truth as straightforwardly as she could, maybe she could explain, make him understand.

 

"I left Kirkwall," she said. "It wasn't safe there, so I left. I didn't have much of a choice. I have a new circle now. But it is not... one that the powers that be would sanction."

"I can't imagine how Kirkwall would have been unsafe," he replied quietly, brow furrowed as he watched her. Young, idealistic, and naive - he embraced all of those qualities in that moment as he clearly pondered the wrong part of that sentence. "There is no place safer than under the Chantry watch and in the arms of your Circle."

 

But he was a smart boy. Clearly the gears in his head did turn and his expression shifted from confusion to curiosity, surprise to overwhelming worry. When his eyes widened he instinctively moved closer to fill the gap between them and allow his tone to become no more than a hiss. "What? An unsanctioned circle? Are you mad?"

 

Tempest flinched when Etienne told her that no place was safer than the Circle. Of course he didn't believe her. Why would he? This was exactly what she had been threatened about. They would call her a liar. Then another accusation would come: blood mage. She wasn't safe here. Not outside her own circle. She never should have come.

 

"It's not mad," she said softly. "Mages need circles. I tried to do this on my own and I hated it. I need their support. I need their... their love. We're like a family. It's better for me than I've ever been. I'm happier, but it's not just that. The temptation we all face as mages - it's so much less for me now."

 

Tempest took a step back. She never should have confided anything in Etienne. Or in anybody, for that matter. Had a few days of isolation really made her so stupid?

 

"I should go," she said.

 

He was conflicted more than anything, both intrigued by the idea of an unsanctioned Circle and horrified on her behalf. The shock faded as he listened to her, though. He paused to glance around again, checking on their comrades, and let out a sigh. "Messere Tempest," he replied quickly, motioning for her to stop. "I will not... I'm not to say a word, I promise." Inasmuch as his own Circle was an odd place of comfort and solace for him, the idea of a 'family' just wasn't there. The mages formed their own clusters and felt adoration for one another, of course, but there wasn't 'family.'

 

Confidence. She needed confidence that she had not just said something so important to someone who would fetch the next Templar in sight. He was earnest as he motioned for her to come back. "Please do not be offended by my surprise."

 

Somewhat reassured, Tempest took a deep breath and turned back to Etienne.

 

"Thank you," she said. "I'm not. Offended, that is. I was just... frightened. I have so much to lose now. And I suppose I got used to being afraid. It's a difficult habit to break, although I'm trying."

 

She offered him another faint smile. "I'm sorry I took you by surprise. I'm sure it's an odd thing to digest."

 

Wincing, he shook his head. "And please do not be frightened by me. Or my reactions. I promise you, messere, I mean you no harm." Maker, was it difficult for him to grasp. It had been drilled into his head that all those who sit outside of Chantry control were apostates or, worse, maleficar. They'd make it sound as if you couldn't so much as look at them without an attack. Same was said of the Dalish, actually, and he hadn't been killed by their elf friend either.

 

Drawing himself up proudly, he stuck his hand out between them. "Let's start over. My name is Etienne Durand, Circle Mage, hopeful Enchanter, sometimes daft, often silly, never a danger. Pleasure to meet you."

 

Tempest grinned more broadly now, and shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Messere Etienne Durand. I am Tempest, no last name, of the nameless circle. It is a pleasure to re-make your acquaintance."

 

Now that they had reached an understanding again, she didn't want to create conflict by bringing up any details about Kirkwall that would seem far fetched to him, so she needed to tread carefully.

 

"I apologize for my reaction. I have had... difficult times... in the past, but those were not of your making. I should not have been so distrustful. You've given me no reason to be."

 

His smile broadened in return. "The pleasure is mine, messere," he replied warmly as his other hand covered her's as well.

 

"No need to apologize. My impression of the Circle is not always the most popular, yes? Though I cannot imagine why my experience would be so different from other's, I cannot discount it either. I believe my faith in the Maker and his Bride to be my saving grace." He nodded and clasped his hands behind his back once more. "I understand trust is earned. And as long as we journey together, I will see that I am worthy of any I am afforded by you."

 

"I'm glad that you're happy in your Circle," Tempest said sincerely. "Truly I am. I've heard good things about Kinloch Hold. Had I been taken to that Circle instead, things might have been different. But my life took another path."

 

She had brightened when Etienne spoke of the Maker and Andraste.

 

"Then we share our beliefs," she told him. "Without my faith in the Maker - in a better future someday - I would not have survived this long. I will do my best to earn your trust, too, and to do right by this group and anyone who needs our help."

 

"I am happy in my Circle, yes," he replied, albeit unconvincingly. His voice failed him, betraying him, but he cleared his throat and moved on. "I believe Kinloch to be among the best of them. I had first been placed at the White Spire, but I was moved. Too... dangerous, that place. Too revolutionary."

 

He frowned in distaste, but quickly brushed it off.

 

Tempest caught the hint of hesitation, and it concerned her. Surely he wouldn't...? But of course he would. She had insisted for years that all was well for her in Kirkwall, hadn't she? It could not have been further from the truth, but it was the only way to keep herself alive and spare herself even worse pain.

 

"Etienne, they aren't... they aren't hurting you, are they? If they are, you can tell me. I'll believe you. I promise. Even if no one else does."

 

His eyes opened wide and mouth fell open. "Oh no, I do not mean to say-" Cutting himself off, he looked away quickly. He was often accused of viewing the tower far too optimistically. And it was hard for him to imagine that things were as bad as some would say, as he just didn't see much of it. Yes, mages would be imprisoned when they had done wrong, but when the Templars said it had been for their own good (and the lay sisters agreed), Etienne believed them. He had no reason to not trust them. He was a good, studious believer and any punishment he had ever gotten was minor, at worst.

 

But Tempest came across as trustworthy as could be. And if she so easily asked if he had been hurt, it could only mean that she had reason to believe it plausible.

 

"...does that happen, Tempest?"

 

Tempest looked down, suddenly self-conscious. Would he believe her? Did she want to destroy the illusion of safety he had if he did? She tried to remember what it had been like when she thought it was impossible, too. It was so long ago. She couldn't quite recapture how it felt.

 

She simply rubbed her wrist out of habit, and nodded.

 

"Maker," he hissed as he watched her. There was something so powerful in that moment and he blinked hard a couple of times, tearing his line of sight away from Tempest and back to their companions. It took a couple of forceful swallows and the clearing of his throat before he could continue. "Messere Tempest, I must ask that we discuss this further. Not now. But.. very soon."

 

Tempest nodded again. She looked up, and when she did her smile was back.

 

"Of course, Etienne. I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable by saying too much. I'm happy to talk to you again, though. Perhaps we can discuss matters of faith, too. There are few I can share such conversation with, and I would welcome the chance."

 

"Not uncomfortable," he replied without skipping a beat. "Not in the least bit. I know I am not the most observant man and I wonder how much I have truly missed." A loaded statement for him, at least.

 

Tempest was relieved to hear that Etienne wasn't uncomfortable. She was used to living with her own problems. The last thing she wanted was to be a burden to anyone else.

 

He brought his hand up to rest against the back of his neck and offered her a kind smile. "I would like that as well, Messere Tempest. It would be interesting to know how our teachings apply to life outside the tower."

 

"No need for Messere. Just Tempest among friends," she said gently. "We will speak again soon then, Etienne."

 

 

"We will," he replied warmly. Maker, was he becoming one to make fast friends, which was odd since he had gone years in the tower without any. He offered her a broad smile, bowed his head, and straightened his doublet. "We should get back to our group.”

 

Teeth worried his bottom lip as he hurried to join Rael and Tessa.