Maker's Mercy (invite only)

Denerim Alienage

Ralen's eyes were closed as he stood on his knees in prayer, his arms crossed on his chest.

"Oh Maker, may we find forgiveness in your eyes so that our souls are uplifted to your side in our passing. May our lives be filled with the joy of faith and certainty, so that our bodies are filled with purpose. May our every action be righteous and good, and done in your name and to your greater glory. May..."

"Are you quite done, Templar? I am beginning to get bored again."

Interrupted a coarse voice.

"Not yet, but it will not take much longer."

The Knight Captain replied without opening his eyes, and then continued.

"May you accept the poor soul of the one I am to dispatch to your kingdom, for he has succumbed to evil through weakness, and as the good texts say, deserves fair judgement in your eyes, oh Maker."

Ralen's eyes opened, the darkness vanished, he found himself kneeling on a blood smeared floor of what used to be a common cellar. Various bloodied body parts, organs, and ravaged carcasses were scattered across the room. Ralen looked at a young elven boy that stood in the corner, he could not have been more than ten or eleven years old. The boy's face and hands were covered with blood, but not his own. Ralen rose up from his knees, and took a step towards the child.

"I see you're done now, good, you will make a fine meal."

Saying nothing, Ralen pulled out his swords and continued to move towards the child.

"You think you can defeat me? This child's body is mine, a vessel into which I can pour my power. You are nothing but an insect before my might!"

The boy extended his hand, throwing a crushing prison spell at the zealot.

"AHAHAHAHA!!! YES!!!! A MEAL!!!! A MEAL I SHALL HAVE!!!"

Roared the demon wearing the young boy's face. The templar froze for a second as the magical energies surrounded him, but then...he took another step. His spirit warrior abilities allowed him to resist magic.

"WHAAAT???!!!! DIE!!!!!"

The demon extended its hand, casting an ice spell, but it never got to finish. Ralen darted forward with blazing speed, pushing off lightly against the ground, and swung his blade, cutting off the child's arm, up to the shoulder. The demon screamed in pain, but was immediately silenced, as the zealot's other blade impaled the body to the wall, through the neck. With a quick movement Ralen pulled out his sword from the corpse, without any hurry wiped the blades with a piece of cloth and sheathed his weapons. He then walked up the stairs and out of the cellar.

"Knight Captain Tomb, we were about to go in to back you up, is it over?"

Said one of a group of Templars standing just outside the house.

"Yes, Maker's will was done here today, a poor soul's suffering was ended. I thank you for not barging in against my orders. Please notify your Knight Commander that my task has been complete, and I will be departing Denerim immediately."

Ralen replied with calm politeness.

"Yes, of course ser."

Ralen walked past the Templar and continued to go forward.

"YOU BASTARDS!!!!!!!!!!"

Came a scream full of a woman's anger and desperation, from behind the Templars backs.

"YOU!!! YOU!!! ALL OF YOU!!! MY BOY!!!!??? MY LITTLE BOY!!!??? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM!!!???"

"Thats the mother, we tried to calm her down, Ser, but she wouldn't."

Said one of the Templars, as Ralen approached the elven woman.

"The curse of magic runs in the blood, and if her son was cursed, she might be as well. I want her detained and kept in observation until the extent of her magical ability is determined, if there is any."

"Ser, but, she is just grieving for her son. She will calm down eventually, there is no need..."

"You have your orders, Templar. The curse must not be allowed to run unchecked, such is the Maker's and the Chantry's will. Our order exists for the purpose of fulfilling that will, and taking no chances in insuring that no innocents are harmed by apostate mages."

Ralen's tone continued to be as calm and polite as ever. The Templar stood for a second, looking at the Zealot, as Ralen was looking back at him. Finally the man caved in.

"You heard the Knight Captain, detain her, lock her up."

"Yes, ser."

Two of the Templars grabbed the woman as she screamed and struggled and pulled her away. Ralen put on his hood, as the first rain drop hit the ground. He then turned around and continued walking away.

A tavern on the Southern road, just outside Denerim

"Now, now....think a bit about what you're saying, calm down, and lets continue the game."

Volk said in a friendly tone with a smile, while staring down a rather large man at the other side of the card table.

"No, you cheated, ya sodding prick!"

The large man reached for his sword, the other two men that were with him followed suit. Volk sighed.

"...so much for trying to be civil and enjoying a pleasant evening."

Volk said to no one in particular. The large man stood up and started pulling the sword out of its sheath. Volk kicked the table, flipping it over on top of him. One of the goons pulled out a knife and came at Volk from the right, the hunter grabbed his hand at the wrist, twisting it and punched him in the nose with the other hand, sending the brawler down to the floor. Volk then pulled out his own dagger, spinned around in place and parried the swing that was coming from behind. Using his free hand, he punched the the last remaining assailant in the throat, stopping him in his tracks and then continued the movement by slamming his elbow into the unfortunate gambler's face. Three men lay on the ground rolling around in pain as Volk stood victorious over them. He pushed his foot against the flipped over table, pressing it on top of the large man who started the trouble.

"Lucky for you, the owner of this fine establishment is a friend of mine so I wouldn't want to dirty his floors with your blood. Now get up, and get the hell out of here before I change my mind."

He lifted his foot, and the man got up from under the table and darted for the door, the other two followed him after a few moments.

"Fucking tourists..."

"More and more of em by the day...thanks for not killing them, next round of drinks is on the house."

Said the bartender from behind the counter.

"Thanks Pitt, any time, I don't mind cleaning up trash."

Volk looked towards the doors and raised an eyebrow as he saw a hooded man wearing a black robe standing just past the entrance. The man's robes were wet from the rain outside, he could have been a monk or a priest seeking shelter from the weather if not for the two longswords strapped on to his back. The robed man took off his hood, and approached Volk.

"Ser Rakel, it is a pleasure to see you again, I have urgent business we must discuss."

Volk grinned and turned to the bartender.

"Pitt, pour me that free drink and give me the key to the room."

"Alright, does your friend need one?"

"No, he doesn't drink...."

Volk turned back to face his potential client.

"Long time no see, Captain. Follow me, if we're discussing business I assume you will want privacy."

Volk turned around and grabbed a full mug and a key that the bartender just put up on the counter. He then went for a locked door to one of the siderooms, unlocked it and walked inside. Knight Captain Tomb followed behind him.

The two men were now seated behind a small round table in the private room. Volk was slowly sipping ale from his mug.

"So, Knight Captain, whats the nature of business you wish to discuss? Don't worry, this location is secure, the door is shut and Pitt knows then not to listen and keep others from doing so. One thing though, as I've told you the last time, if you want me to do something for you I will need all the relevant information. Its not the military anymore, a perk of doing freelance is that I decide what I need to know, because I always have the choice to walk away from an assignment if it is too risky."

"Of course Ser Rakel, I understand perfectly your terms, I would not have come here if I was not authorized to divulge all the information pertaining to the task I require completed."

"Let's begin then, I got time to waste, but I am sure you don't."

"Indeed. First of all, I am sure you have heard of the risen level of elven unrest in the Denerim Alienage which began after the Templars found and executed several apostates there."

"I keep my ear open, I heard of it, continue."

"The Chantry is suspicious that events have unfolded as they did because of corruption within the ranks of the Templars. I am to find those responsible, eliminate them, and collect all information on the extent of this corruption."

"Seems like an internal matter, why come to me?"

"Because I am the only one who has received this task, I am in a hurry, and can not follow all the leads myself. I can not request aid of the Templar Order, since it is corruption within its ranks that I am investigating. You are the only outside contractor that I can trust based on our dealings in the past, and I also know you can be discreet enough to keep all information about your work a secret. We can not have any of this get out to the public. I am a Zealot as you know, as far as the Chantry is concerned I do not exist, they would not give me this assignment if they wanted anything to slip through the cracks. In addition you have certain special skills that make you perfect for what I require."

"Good to be in demand...so, what do you need done?"

"I will need you to find a man by the name of Gar Solis, he is one of our own, a Templar. He has gone missing, and I need him to be found and questioned, if he is dead, I need you to gather information on who killed him and why."

"Being a Templar isn't the safest job, I know you loose patrols all the time, whats special about this one?"

"Indeed we do, however Knight Leutenant Solis was not assigned to an apostate hunting party during his disappearance, in fact he was awaiting a new assignment in Denerim, then one day he left the barracks and did not return. He left the city, going north according to the testimonies of the city guards who were assigned duty at the gate that day."

"Interesting, Templars don't just leave, thanks to their Lyrium addiction. No need to defend your Chantry, Knight Captain, I simply mention it as a fact, not as an accusation."

"...As I was saying, I want to know what happened to him, and as quickly as possible. I will pay you double the standard rate you charge for your work. Is that agreeable?"

Volk finished the rest of his ale, and scratched his head for a second, then slammed his fist on the table and extended a handshake to the zealot.

"It is, I've set around with nothing to do long enough. I'll do this and send you a message through my channels once I am done."

Ralen shook Volk's hand and rose up from his chair.

"Good, may the Maker watch over you and bring you success in this endeavor, Ser Rakel. Now if you excuse me, I got more business to attend to elsewhere."

Volk nodded, and Ralen left the room, and then walked out of the tavern into the rain.

Volk got up and went to his bedroom upstairs soon after the Zealot left the tavern. Wasting no time, the hunter began gathering his gear, and getting ready for departure. After emptying his pack and auditing all the items in it, he put them back, and began sharpening his longsword and then his dagger with a whetstone. Upon finishing, he put the blades in their sheaths, and placed them on his bed. He then grabbed the satchel there he kept his potions, and audited it as well.

.....'Wolfbane', check. 'Dragon water', check. 'Essence of the Wild', check. Better stock up on 'Soul of the beast', it could be a long journey.

He pulled a small chest from under the floorboards next to the bed and unlocked it with a key he wore on a string around his neck. He then took out a few small bottles of a grey colored mixture, and put them in his satchel. He locked the chest and put it away back in the hiding spot.

All gear in order.

He got up and started putting his gear on. He put the longsword and a longbow, as well as a bundle of arrows on his back, the dagger went on the left side of the grenade belt he wore around his waist. Throwing knives went on a belt he wore diagonally across his chest. Finally he grabbed his satchel, slung it across his left shoulder, and grabbed his pack. He then left his room, locked the door, went downstairs, nodded to Pitt, and stepped outside the tavern. He had a mission, the thrill of the coming hunt was beginning to excite him.

Kiverius wiped his mouth with his sleeve, leaning over a puddle of black blood he just thrown up on the ground. Usually he tried to stay as far away from populated lands as possible as his eyes and demeanor made people uneasy, and fending off mobs of villagers and the town guards was a rather tiring exercise. However his last stash of refined lyrium had ran out, his body was breaking down quickly and he had no choice but to take risk to acquire more.

Attempting to spare the last remains of his energy and prolong his life as long as possible, he chose not to use his ability to enter the fade and step out of it, in a different spot of his choosing in the physical world. Instead he continued walking along the road to Denerim, until suddenly he stopped, his glowing yellow eyes looking into the distance.

I sense it...lyrium...not much, but my body is failing too fast, if I don't get any at all I might die before getting to my destination to acquire more.

He then vanished into shadow, the old wolf began a hunt of his own.

After getting through the city, Volk traveled further along the road heading north from Denerim. On his way he passed many remains of camps, left behind by travelers on the road, but he passed them without giving them a second look, yet one in particular caught his attention. The hunter closed in to inspect the area.

Well...well...well, looks like I've caught a break already, and I thought this mission was going to test my talents.

He thought to himself and then knelt down, inspecting a trail of footprints on the ground.

Yeap, that definitely is a mark that only the standard issue Templar plate boot leaves in the soil. He was about 5'9'', weighed around 240 pounds with his pack and his armor but most interestingly...he was alone. Templars don't travel alone, they travel in groups, unless of course they've run away like the one I am looking for. Lets see what else I can find out.

Volk got up and followed the trail to a barely noticeable depression in the ground, right by remains of a bonefire. He knelt down again, picked up a piece of the soil and put it on his tongue. He chewed it and then spit it out.

Minor traces of lyrium dust in the soil, this is there he sat down and took his medicine. Obviously he didn't run away because he had a sudden desire to quit cold turkey and start a new life. He prepared for this well in advance, it would take him at least several weeks to receive a delivery of illegally purchased lyrium from one of the Circle Mages. Its doubtful he figured out a way to hoard the lyrium the Templars are issued by the Chantry, its too well accounted for, he would have been discovered before he had a chance to make a break for the city gates. Tracking down the supplier is definitely something the Knight Captain should look into, if I show up otherwise empty handed. Lets see what else...

Volk interrupted his line of thought and slowly rose up to his feet. He then pulled out a small vial from his satchel, the liquid inside was dark red in color and seemed to constantly boil on the surface. The hunter took the cap off the vial, brought it to his lips, and emptied it into his mouth, jerking his head backwards so it would go straight down his throat.

The empty vial dropped out of his fingers as he began to undergo a transformation. His muscles tightened and increased in volume, as every vein in his body poped out, his skin becoming much whiter at the same time. His eyes became completely black, and his teeth grew in size and became sharper, his fangs protruding from his mouth.

"WOOHOO!!!!"

He yelled in excitement, but then quickly calmed down, unsheathing his weapons.

"You're good, I can tell that by how long it took me to notice you. But that was before I drank this here combat potion. Now I can smell you, and hear your heartbeat as a plain as day. I won't insult you by telling you to piss off, you're skilled enough to have evaded detection that long, you mean business. So come out, and lets get this over with."

Volk looked straight ahead, as a figure emerged from the shadow, its glowing yellow eyes peering out of the darkness. He heard a cold, detached voice speak words that Volk did not understand.

"Ei vento nai mordoi deid." ("I do not wish to kill you"; Arcanum, Language of the Tevinter Imperium)

And then steel met steel and the battle began.

Kiverius came at his opponent sideways. His prize was close, he no longer cared about wasting energy. He blinked in and out of the physical world, instantly shifting position each time, attacking his target from every angle. His daggers did the dance of death that few warriors could withstand, yet each time the old wolf's 'fangs' only struck against the steel of Volk's blades. Kiverius's opponent fought with speed and ferocity of a cornered beast, and looked the part as well.

Mutation...I've seen something similar before....back in Tevinter.

The battle raged on, with sparks flying as blade struck against blade. Yet Kiverius was still the only one on the offensive, Volk was too preoccupied with blocking to even attempt a counterattack. Finally one of the old wolf's 'fangs' tasted flesh as it pierced into Volk's shoulder, cutting through tendons and causing the whole arm to go limp. It seemed that Kiverius gained the upper hand, as he swept aside Volk's remaining weapon, and aimed a precise strike with his other dagger at the mercenary's jugular vein. But things did not go as planned, too much energy was already expended, Kiverius's swing was too slow as a result and Volk narrowly dodged it by moving his head to the side. Feeling that he reached his limit, the old wolf teleported a few meters away, immediately falling to his knees, as black blood ejected from his mouth onto the ground. He only managed to look up to see a clenched fist heading for his face...then all went dark.

Kiverius's eyes opened.

"Oh, you're awake? Good."

Volk said, holding a large alchemical flask just above the flames of a bonefire. Satisfied with the temperature he brought the flask to eyelevel and watched as the dark liquid inside changed to dark blue. He then looked at the old wolf.

"That numbness you feel is a mild paralytic I gave you to keep you from doing anything stupid once you woke up. Well...a triple dose of a mild paralytic to be exact, didn't know what you were exactly, and I don't usually take chances. Though judging from what I've just discovered from testing your blood sample, you should be able to have control of most of your upper body even now, the rest will come to you in a few hours. That is...if I let you live that long. And don't worry about the wound you caused me, the combat potion I drank earlier has amazing regenerative properties, my arm still feels a bit stiff, but its nothing that a healing poultrice can't fix."

"Why...why didn't you kill me already?"

Kiverious grunted, rolling over on the side. Volk looked at him with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"That accent...its Tevinter right? Yes, definitely is. That might explain a few things, but lets hold off on that for now and I'll answer your question. The reason I haven't stuck my sword through your heart is curiosity. You're obviously not human, at least not anymore, which makes you a mystery, and I have a bit of an obsession with figuring out mysteries. Now, if I could, I'd kill you, drag your body somewhere dry and clean and dissect you to find out all the answers, but seeing as I am currently on a mission I decided that simply asking you what you are is the faster route to solving this puzzle. So, tell me, unless of course you have an objection."

Kiverious grinned slightly, revealing sharp fangs.

"Sure, why not, not like you'll believe me. I'm a weapon of the Imperium, not a man, but more. I was forged long before you were born, and I served my masters loyally up until the point I turned on them. I don't know what exactly they did to me, I only remember how painful the process was."

"Hmm, interesting...now from your blood sample I've discovered that unlike regular human blood yours is some sort of compound based on lyrium. Now lyrium is lethal to living beings, unless you mix it with stabilizing agents, like what the Chantry alchemists do with the lyrium dust they give to the Templars. However, the stabilizer in your blood is much more complex than that. It'd take me months, maybe years to take it apart completely, but I can already tell a few things. Such as the fact that it should theoretically allow your physical body to exist in the Fade, at least for some limited period of time. Also seeing as how you decided to fall over and start puking out your insides mid-battle, I will make a guess that your body is rejecting your blood. Which obviously brings up the question of how exactly did you get to live as long as you have?"

"What you call lyrium....I take it and it keeps me from falling apart. The purer it is, the better. The reason I attacked you...is because I sensed it nearby and thought you had it on you."

"Very, very interesting. The lyrium you sensed was not mine, but residue of the dust that a Templar that passed here a few days ago left on the ground....you know what, I think I might have a use for you. Yes, I think I'll keep you alive for now, I think I can figure out a way to delay the speed with which your body rejects your blood given a few hours. A temporary measure, but it might last you till we can get you some lyrium, in any case you don't have any options otherwise."

"Why would you do this?"

"I am tracking this Templar that went through here, from the footprints and other signs he left around camp I can tell that he is about four days ahead of me. I know his general direction of movement which is northward, but that still leaves a very large area for me to search. Now, he should still have lyrium dust with him, which means he will be leaving more residue in the ground whenever he sets up camp. Your ability to sense even such trace amounts of the substance makes you a rather invaluable tool in my search. So what do you say?"

Kiverius looked at the ground, then back at Volk.

"I would prefer not dying like this....so yes, you have a deal."

Volk smiled and got up to his feet.

"Great, I'll get started on coming up with a way to delay you from dying a slow, agonizing death as you vomit out all the liquids that are in your body. Should be fun."

Kiverius patiently waited as Volk pulled out of his pack several pieces of some sort of alchemical apparatus and got to work over the bone fire. Several hours later, the hunter turned around, holding a vial of green liquid in his hand.

"Take it."

Volk handed the vial to the old wolf. Having no other choice, Kiverius took the potion and drank it in one sip. He then looked at the ground, the pain tearing at his insides subsiding greatly. Volk waited for a few more minutes, staring at Kiverius intently.

"Good, you're not dead, it worked then. How are you feeling?"

"The pain...its there but its not as intense, and the urge to throw up is gone."

"Very good, the effects are however only temporary. It'll get just as bad as it was before by this same time tomorrow."

"Could you make more of this potion then?

"I could, but I doubt it will work as well the second time. I discovered something else about your ailment. Its just as I suspected originally, you have a virus in your blood stream, a highly adaptive one at that. It makes sense really, the Tevinter Magisters were making a weapon, so they made you flawless, and then added this virus afterwards as a safeguard in case you went rogue...as you have. You need lyrium, once its received by its chemical receptors, the virus goes dormant, completely shuts down for a time."

"If its a disease, can there be a cure?

"Of course, anything that can be done, can be undone. It would take years of research and tons of funding, that's if you track down the few alchemists experienced enough to undertake this sort of work. So while possible in theory, practically you won't be able to get your hands on it. Lyrium on the other hand is much easier to get your hands on, so I suggest you just keep doing what you were doing. If you get a steady supply of pure lyrium, and at the current rate of decay, you should have another forty-fifty years before your body breaks apart on its own."

"So...I will die then."

"So will I, so will everyone. I for one am glad that I come with a set expiration date."

"Not everyone has as much vengeance to dish out as I do..."

"Well, that's your personal problem. Get up, and lets go, we need to find you lyrium and get you on the trail of my mark."

Kiverius silently got up, and the two began walking, going North along the road.

A thick fog has rose up from the ground obstructing their view as they walked through a field for several hours. After another half hour Kiverius froze in place and his eyes wondered to the side.

"Lyrium....I sense it."

Volk looked around and then turned his gaze to his companion.

"Can't see anything through this damned fog, is it close?"

"Yes, and there is a lot of it...over there."

Kiverius lifted his hand and pointed a finger to the right.

"Well, lets go get it then."

The hunter and the old wolf turned right and walked forward, the fog seemed to be getting thicker with each step. Suddenly Volk lifted his hand, giving Kiverius a sign to stop. The hunter then squatted down to the ground and pointed at an object right in front of him, almost completely covered by the fog.

"That looks like a lyrium container, judging by the way most of it is buried in the ground its been here for a long time. But who would leave it in the middle of nowhere?"

"Perhaps they did."

Kiverius reached into the fog and pulled out a dwarven skull, the bone was completely white, any remnants of flesh have eroded from it long ago.

"With my eyes I can see through the fog better than you can. There are three sets of bones scattered on the ground...two dwarves and a human, I can sense traces of lyrium on the human...."

Volk moved himself towards the remains of the human, and inspected the area. He picked up a piece of cloth from the ground.

"Makes sense, the human was a mage, judging by this fabric he wasn't wearing Circle robes. Probably an apostate...decided to buy some lyrium from dwarf smugglers, the deal did not end well."

Kiverius's pupil's shrank, his glowing yellow eyes pierced the fog in front of him.

"Its not safe here...there is a being of the fade haunting this place....I can sense it....its...its....curious as to who we are."

"More than likely, the mage summoned a demon, that's what killed the dwarves. The mage must have been powerful, for the demon to linger so long in our world after its summoner was killed. You can sense it you say?"

"Yes, I am somewhat of a being of the Fade myself...we all have a certain, connection. It judged our strength, it won't take the chance and attack us unless we threaten it. Lets grab the lyrium and go."

"So the fog is its creation then, interesting."

"Yes, the fog is a part of it, I can see it now. It uses the fog to lure its pray towards its master's resting place, then it devours them. But it won't do us any harm, plenty of weaker travelers for it to feed on, there is a lot more bones on the ground then I spotted initially. Humans, dwarves, elves, horses....it devoured them all."

Volk reached and grabbed the lyrium container, pulling it out of the ground.

"Alright, we got what we came for, let's go."

Kiverius nodded.

"I can see a way out through the fog, its letting us go. Follow me, stay close behind."

Kiverius turned around and started walking, Volk followed just behind him.

*delete this post*

The duo continued tracking their mark for several days. They went from campground, to campground, never leaving the trail out of sight. Finally, walking through a field of tall grass, they stumbled upon what seemed to be the end of their search. On the edge of a forest was an abandoned shed, its roof collapsed, the door broken off its hinges. It was the only structure for miles in every direction, the woods behind it were dense, and enveloped in darkness. After carefully scouting the area around the shed, Volk and Kiverius began slow approach towards the building.

"...seems like we finally caught up with him."

"Are you certain? I do not sense any life inside."

"I checked, and double checked, there is one set of footsteps going in, and nothing coming out."

They aproached a few more paces.

"Do you smell that? Its...

"Blood...and its dry, yes I smell it...lucky for me no part of the contract specified that this Templar had to be alive then I found him."

Walking through the doorway the duo was swallowed up by darkness, Kiverius' eyes lit up like torches, emanating an ominous yellow light. The old wolf looked around the room.

"You need to see this."

"I intend to."

With those words Volk pulled a potion out of his satchel and drank it, his eyes began to glow similar to Kiverius'.

"There, that did it...hmm...that sure is a lot of blood."

"Three bodies, all human, one female, one male child and..."

"The Templar we came here for...Knight Leutenant Gar Solis, and from the looks of it his wife and child."

"How can you tell?"

"The child is certainly both of theirs, I can tell by common genetic traits, eyecolor, cheekbone height and so on. And taking into consideration everything else we know, this does make sense. Someone kept Solis's family as hostages so they could use him to steer the Templar Order's actions in the direction they wanted. He finished his job, they told Solis there to find his wife and son, he left Denerim to get to them without letting anyone know, so his betrayal would not be revealed. He got here, and...the hostage takers got rid of the evidence."

"The way its been done...the way the corpses are ravaged, whoever killed them was enraged...but not particularly skilled, the cuts across the neck are sloppily made, the stabs were not efficient. They were not trained killers."

"Lets look around a bit more, see what else we can find."