The Price of Revenge - A Message

It took him some time to find The Warden's Keep, several days in fact. But he could feel the Wardens' presence when he neared the stone structure. It looked grand on the outside, cleaned from the recent assault that he cared not for. He fastened his clay mask a little firmer on his face as he rode his horse at a walk towards the Keep. There was no hurry. Ever since he was released from The Song of the Old Ones, The Arbiter had distanced himself from the politics of his kinsmen and sought to once again be human. He remembered that, vaguely in the back of his mind, that he had once been human. There was a battle. A king had died. He himself was taken into the darkness... but not much else. Two years now... since that day.

His armored fist raised up in a sign of peace, that he was unarmed. He followed his master's instructions closely, how to move and act as a messenger. He was The Arbiter of his master's will, one who reigned fair judgement after carefully calculating a situation. He was a harbinger, a messenger, but he was also a soldier.

"I seek audience with the Warden-Commander. Arl Gerrik sends his regards."

((Apologies for the general sloppiness of this post: it's rather late for me, but Sophie wanted to at least say hello to our visitor before I went to sleep. ^_^))

"Oh, my..."

How delightful...

As she lay atop a crumbling battlement, Sophia could feel the warmth of the morning sun seeping through her entire body, filling her up from top to toe as if she were lying in the baths back at the temporary base they had commandeered for a time in Denerim. Unfortunately, the baths at the Keep weren't yet working as well as she would have liked. While it appeared that the Keep's previous owners were no strangers to modern convenience (some of the fancier bathrooms actually possessed rudimentary plumbing,) age and neglect had taken their toll: the water was icy cold, the baths themselves smelt worse than the privies, and a family of frogs from the nearby swamp had taken up residence inside one of the taps. The thought still made Sophia shudder. Was it too much to ask for a few creature comforts inside her new home? She made a mental note on her ever-growing list of things to add to her cellar-stronghold: a fully-functional bath, complete with the latest in Orlesian luxuries. Surely there would be a plumber somewhere nearby with the necessary experience...

She managed to hold onto her thoughts for all of a moment until another wave of sunlight washed them away. Really... what was she doing, worrying about plumbing on a day like this. Sooner or later, Vigil's Keep would be restored to its former glory: the building itself seemed to know it as much as the refugees that had settled nearby, tinting the whole landscape with a faint frission of hope. Sophia shuddered deliciously, snuggling deeper into her stony nest. In truth, it was as much for that subtle undercurrent of emotion as for the sunlight that she had chosen to perch all the way up here... a sense of new stories being woven where none could have even been imagined before, inspiration kindling out of desolation. If she focused her senses (just a little; no sense in disturbing the tranquility of the morning,) she could hear those stories gaining shape: a small group of workmen laboured near the base of the wall, shaping massive stone blocks that would eventually become part of Vigil's walls. Down in the nearby refugee settlement, the scents of roasting fish mixed with the earthy musk of lifestock mingled in the already fragrant air, perfumed with the scents of flowers and forests beyond imagining.

Sophia smiled.

Who can say how many of those scents are actually there, and how many exist simply because I wish they were there? Then again...

A giggle.

Perhaps the flowers below are simply making up for lost time? That, or they've realised that their mistress is here...

Serethiel. Even after so many weeks, the strange elf still gave Sophia pause. Every other Warden in the Keep was relatively easy to read, if not to understand: they were mortal, desirable, cold, brave, passionate... emotional. But Serethiel... she was so much more. She was ancient, in the truest sense of the word, a story that was somehow connected to Thedas in a way that she could barely understand, a way that had the same scent as the flowers down below...

Would she tell me her story, if I asked her?

Sophia sat up, her smile fading. Somehow, her nest no longer seemed quite so comfortable. As it was, staring out into space, lost in her thoughts, the Smiling Princess heard the Keep's new guest before she saw him.

"I seek audience with the Warden-Commander. Arl Gerrik sends his regards."

Sophia went rigid.

Gerrik?! But that's...

Surging to her feet, Sophia stared down at the road below, at the speaker standing silently with his fist raised in a sign of truce, his eyes inscrutable behind his clay mask. At first, he looked like an ordinary human, but there was something in the way he stood, something familiar. Something that reminded her of-

The perpetual smile widened. How interesting.

"I heard a story once, of a time long ago, when the Darkspawn did not follow the will of an Archdemon, but instead the edicts handed down by the highest of their race... the Mages who set foot in the Golden City." Sophia's murmur dripped softly over the battlements, clearly audible despite the twittering of birdsong in the trees nearby. "In the end, those who opposed the Darkspawn couldn't destroy those Dark Paragons. They were only able to lock them away, hiding their very existence behind walls of lies and words. And yet, in the space of month, we've been blessed enough to see two of their number return to us as they must have appeared all those years ago, walking under the sun of their own free will..."

The Fade warped. A thoughtspan saw Sophia sketching herself into existence before her waiting guest, dipping an improvised curtsey.

"... and in the service of Gerrik Dragonis, none the less." Sophia smiled, warmth shining through the haze in her cloudy eyes. "What is your name? And how is Gerrik? Is he well?" She tilted her head to one side. "Or did he send you because his condition has made it unsafe for him to travel?"

The Arbiter was taken aback by the song-like voice. It felt so soothing, so familiar. He shook his head to clear it, then suddenly the smell of the Fade being warped and a beautiful woman in white stood before him, he reached for his staff on his back instinctively, but she curtsied politely, evidently someone who loved to make an entrance. His guard relaxed, but only a little.

"... and in the service of Gerrik Dragonis, none the less."

He cleared his throat. "Indeed... Though you'd do well to keep my... condition a secret, milady." his voice was so different from The Shadow's, it was refined, almost completely human-like, if a smidgen raspy. He could easily pass off for a human, if not for the clay mask and likely the horrid visage underneath. "I am called Arbiter, Arl Gerrik's "Leper" messenger." he said with practiced grace. He had been in the service of his lord for over a year, and learned speech and manners and many other courtly nuances from him. "My master is well... but how did you...? I don't know what condition you speak of, milady. My lord is quite well, but he sends an invitation to the Warden-Commander to congratulate her on retaking Amaranthine and of course, stopping the Blight." His pale, dead eyes watched Sophia cautiously beneath his mask. He did not remove his helmet, keeping his "leprosy" contained usually put people more at ease around him.

Milady... how many years has it been since someone last called me that?

In the face of such impeccable manners, Sophia found herself reacting almost without thinking: she dipped her head in a polite nod, her mind's ear ringing with the sounds of a court she had almost forgotten. Rustling silks. The low hum of gossip, laced with a venomous hint of intrigue. Why, were it not for his mask the creature before her could have passed for a knight, if his armour were a little more polished or his cloak carried a touch of ornamentation.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Arbiter. My name is Sophia Nider, a simple storyteller in the service of my Mistress Nygozy, Warden-Commander of Ferelden." Her smile warmed. "I am glad to hear that Arl Gerrik is healthy... and please don't worry: my knowledge of your Lord's particulars shall stay as secret as the face you wear under your mask." She stepped to one side, indicating the gates of the Keep with a ribbon-wrapped hand. "Would you care to come inside? The Mistress is most likely working at the moment... I don't envy her the task of co-ordinating the reconstruction of our fortress... but I am sure she will be able to make time to see you." The smile twitched: amusement? "After all, like me, the Mistress knows how to appreciate a good story."

The gates swung open. Resting a hand gently on the Arbiter's elbow, Sophia led him forward, guiding him under the crumbling arch into the heart of Vigil's Keep.

The Arbiter bowed his head in return to the ribboned one's nod. He took her in mentally, watching how she carried herself, and her eyes were so ancient compared to the rest of her. It was something of a mystery to him, but he shrugged his shoulders all the same. "It is an honor to meet you, Lady Sophia Nider. I would appreciate an audience with the Warden-Commander post haste." he said and turned his horse towards the gates when they opened up, entering the Keep's grounds. He looked around, certainly in better condition than initial reports would have had him believe. They had been doing a masterful job of rebuilding the Keep.

He looked over to his ribbon-wearing companion once more, feeling that vague sense of danger around her. "Things are certainly looking better here." he mused aloud.

Nodding vague agreement, Sophia let her gaze rove lazily across the grounds, her smile warming as she noticed signs of life where there had been none before. A patch of bright green grass there, a buttercup blooming at the base of an otherwise withered tree. The verdant scent she had savoured atop the wall hovered at the very edge of her perception, brightening the faces of the workmen even as they sweated, tangling around tree roots, tickling her nose. If she narrowed her eyes just so, she could almost imagine it dissolving the last traces of Darkspawn blood from the flagstones.

Slowly but surely, the Keep was stirring from its coma.

"... but we still have many songs to sing before it fully awakens... walls to be rebuilt, servants to fills its corridors, guards to patrol around it and tapestries to hang within it." The willowy mage paused before they passed into the keep proper, caressing the worn stonework for all the world like a mother soothing her child. "It must have been terribly lonely all these years, without anyone living in it... no stories to ring through its halls, or blood spilt on its battlements. It hasn't slept easily." The cloudy eyes brightened in sympathy. "Poor child. Even now, it suffers from a broken heart." She shot a glance up at her companion, questioning, teasing. "Do you know how that could be, Arbiter?"

Across the hall, two guards paused in their patrol to stare at the odd pair standing in the doorway. They jumped as Sophia's voice lashed out at them, musical, but edged with a discord that made them snap to attention: the quiet, utterly composed tone of someone who expects to be obeyed.

"Guard Hoffmann. Take our guest's horse to the stables. Be sure that the beast is well fed, watered, rubbed down, and that the tack is cleaned properly. I will know if you have been negligent. Guard Weiswood, please go ahead of us to the Mistress's Chambers. Let her know that she has a guest: an emissary from Arl Gerrik." The smile quirked. Both guards flinched. "You won't delay, will you?" She lowered her eyes, allowing the hapless men to scatter.

"Now then," she murmured, stepping back to allow the Arbiter to dismount, "Shall we proceed to a parlour? I find that waiting in comfort is usually best, even if we won't be waiting very long."

Arbiter could feel them. Every Warden in the Keep. It was a strange sensation, never having felt it before like this. A heady sensation, to say the least, but he was above the primal instincts of his brethren, and would not callously attack a Keep he had no hope of taking. No, that was not his mission here. He dismounted his steed, Seeker, and handed him to the stable master while Sophia sang orders out. "Your help is appreciated, milady." he bowed his head to her and then gathered his cloak about himself, dead eyes watching out of his masked helmet.

He pondered her offer, and anything to make him seem more human would have pleased him, so he nodded. "Yes. It's been a long ride, I wish to sit and rest." He said and they walked into the Keep, while he took in the sweeping halls, so dead with the lack of people. It seemed like it had been abandoned for years, but Arl Howe occupied it before the Civil War while the Blight raged on. It just seemed like it had barely been used. Waste of resources, thought the Arbiter.

The pair emerged into what might have been a stateroom when the Keep was in its heyday. The decayed trappings of luxury were still clear visible: moldy threads of dissolving tapestry clung to the ceiling beams, while the remnants of a carpet, plush no longer, sprawled stubbornly across the hard wooden floor. However, the floor had recently been polished and a fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, throwing an amber light over the two comfortable chairs waiting by the hearth. Sophia promptly claimed one for herself, tucking her feet neatly underneath a handy cushion.

"Please, join me."

Servants scurried from the shadows, setting out a row of implements that glittered silver in the firelight: a teapot, strainer, sugar bowl and saucers, complete with two patterned china cups. Sophia poured daintily, making sure that her guest had the best access to the sugar. A sip. A sigh. Silence.

"... you still haven't answered my question, you know."

Sophia smiled over the rim of her cup.

"A gentleman must be prepared to talk at length about any number of topics... from the trivial, such as whether or not the walls of a certain keep can be completed by the end of the month, to the crucial: the matter of why a building, a construct of wood and stone, possesses a broken heart." She leant back in her chair, cloudy eyes glinting with sleepy amusement. "Do you know the answer, Arbiter?"

---

Weiswood fled.

It wasn't just because he prided himself on his efficiency, or that he had been ordered to convey a message of the utmost importance (or at least he assumed the strange man in the clay mask had been somewhat important: why else would he have been let into the Keep so quickly?). It was that the order, her order, wouldn't let him go. Even as he ran through the honeycomb corridors of the keep, armour clanking, sweat dripping, he could feel her words settling inside him, spreading an imperative that burned through his veins, lashed his bones, urged him without rest or thought. Dimly, a part of his brain that wasn't alight with the scarlet fire of her command remembered a term whispered amongst the Templar back in the village he had once called home-

Maleficar Maleficar one word one glance control the blood control EVERYTHING

- but he extinguished it, stamping on it with all the savagery he normally reserved for his foes. The very thought was ludicrous: he was a soldier, sworn to obey, sworn to serve. Of course he would obey any command given to him by the Wardens. It was his duty. His honour. His life. His very purpose.

Another part of his mind woke up for long enough to realise that he had been running non-stop in heavy armour for the better part of twenty minutes without pausing before the scarlet fire wrapped it up, soothed it, put it to sleep. By the time he arrived outside The Mistress's... no, the Warden-Commander, the Warden-Commander, why would he call her anything else? ... the Warden-Commander's chambers, he was barely thinking anything at all. His pale face, glassy eyes, his heaving chest, the way his salute slid so slickly into place as to be almost inhuman, none of it mattered. He was going to deliver his message. His purpose would be fulfilled!

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. A plated fist on a wooden door boomed its summons down the entire corridor.

"Warden-Commander, sir! Apologies if I have disturbed your rest, but there is a diplomat awaiting your pleasure downstairs, a messenger from an Arl Gerrik, who wishes to meet with you. Lady Nider is currently entertaining him in the right-wing stateroom. Sir!"

As his heels clicked together in another salute, he couldn't help but wonder at the sound of his own voice. In his own ears, it rang almost like a song.

The morning was oft as not one of Nygozy's favorite times of day because oft as not there was nothing to bother her until she wished to be bothered. She was able to cuddle up with Kai and rest in his arms until the sun was warming the balcony then she would take a walk around the balcony being accompanied by Torture or Torture and Kai, sometimes even a guard or two. The best thing of it though was that people tended to avoid bothering her too much until the sun was up. All it took was one unpleasant bout of morning sickness to occur just as a guard was yelling for her to meet with a merchant for most people to give her time to awaken at her own pace.

Nygozy chuckled at the memory then walked into her office when she heard the sound of some early fool calling for her attention. She wondered what form of trouble would make the guard to thump on the door so loudly.

The two guards at the door gave her a questioning look and she nodded her head while strolling towards the door that they now were opening. Torture watched the man with a slight growl but as soon as the commander heard Sophia's name she understood.

"A diplomat from Arl Gerrik?" She yawned as her mind started to go over all the arls she could think of. Usually that would not take long but she was still a bit sleepy and not really in the mood to fight with name games at the moment, "Take me to them." It was a good morning for a walk anyway. Kai was up and he would follow, probably making sure along the way to order her some breakfast and warm tea to help settle her gut.

Nygozy was silent as her guards came along with her, both being silent in voice yet not in the clanging of their armor whereas Kai could not be heard at all. Torture on the other hand panted happily away as they strode through the corridors and jumped at shadows for fun. He was acting a bit like a pup because he could for the moment.

Once they got to the stateroom the guards opened the doors and checked around before announcing the warden commander with all the learned offices and such that Nygozy could care less to remember.

There was a strange sense of unease from the diplomat that Nygozy did not quite care for but she did not mention this. Her eyes strayed from stranger to Sophia and back before she moved towards the other two. This diplomat seemed mysterious from the top of his head to the bottom of his clothing. There was something odd about this that she did not like especially when she got a look at the man's eyes.

"Good morning, Sophia. It is said that you have found a stranger who wishes to speak with me." It was a slight note to start everything up, "I would suppose that you are this gentleman?"

Arbiter sat on the couch across from Sophia, glad for the space to rest after the hard ride here. He decided to answer her question since she kept asking him. "Forgive me, my lady, I don't know much about buildings. I imagine the Keep is just an empty soul needing to be filled. There are still not enough people here." he mused, then stood up when he sensed someone approaching. "She is coming." he said offhandedly.

And then the Warden-Commander arrived, and Arbiter stood straight as any soldier would. His black and silver armor as well as his simple mask, were all dusty from the ride here. His staff was strapped to his back, a simple metal rod with a dark blue orb at its end. He clapped a fist to his heart and bowed. "Good morning, Warden-Commander. Lady Sophia and I were discussing the Keep till you arrived." he said, his voice didn't match his dead eyes, that was for sure. He sounded quite normal, a crisp, deep voice that had an authority to it. "Yes, I am Arl Gerrik Dragonis' envoy. My name is Arbiter, and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." he began, using his courtly mannerisms. "My lord has sent me, requesting your presence at his manse in Orastan, not too far west of here, to help with a problem. There is a serial murderer afoot, killing his people. Mostly women." He closed his eyes for a moment, recalling the grisly scenes. "You may take several others with you. No more than four others."

It was all that Sophia could do not to squeak.

She couldn't say for sure how long it had been since she had seen The Mistress in person; certainly not since the initial assault on the Keep, with the exception of a few hastily gleaned dreams here and there. The little warrior had always seemed surrounded by friends... guards, Wardens, or those who Sophia assumed would end up becoming Wardens. There had been almost as many new faces as those she knew only by sight: a wisecracking apostate who seemed to have popped up out of nowhere, the raven-haired Cousland noblewoman that Fremelda liked to blame for her conscription. And, of course, there was The Mistress's ever-present Shadow, always lurking just out of sight...

(Just in case, Sophia risked a quick peek over the rim of her tea-cup. If she strained her eyes just so, then perhaps she would be able to catch a glimpse of the elusive elf, but... no. All she ended up glimpsing were the dust bunnies under the Arbiter's seat and the beginnings of a migrane.)

... but she never seemed in danger, and that was the important thing. Besides, with everything the little dwarf had been forced to deal with recently, The Mistress probably wouldn't have appreciated being visited for any reason other than those relating to the restoration of Keep, as much as Sophia had longed to drop in with a cup of tea to help distract her from the masses of paperwork that were undoubtably threatening to swallow Nygozy's desk and everything around it.

As it was, finally seeing the Warden-Commander properly after so long was a shock, to say the least. Far from the overworked wreck Sophia had expected, Nygozy was practically glowing. Life seemed to radiate from her, touching everything about her with a soft, radiant beauty Sophia had never seen in her before. Even the faint lines of grumpiness still bunched up above her nose (no doubt a leftover from Weiswood's interruption,) were somehow lovely.

The Arbiter's report brought her back to reality with a bump, prompting her to take a hasty gulp of tea in order to hide her embarrassment. If she had to stare, she could do it later, when they weren't entertaining guests. Focus, Sophia.

"A serial murderer...? Well now. That sounds as if it would make an interesting story. But wouldn't the Arl normally leave such a case to his household guards?" She settled back in her chair, curiosity adding an inquisitive twist to her smile. "I'm willing to guess that these aren't ordinary killings... or an ordinary killer."

Nodding was customary in meeting dignitaries or diplomats so that was what Nygozy did when the Arbiter made his greetings and reference to the talk about the keep itself. She slipped past him and Sophia to a spot on the couch across from the Aribiter but close to Sophia. The other woman could probably feel her unsteady reaction to the man's eyes but on the outside Nygozy did not show that feeling.

"About the keep?" She glanced towards Sophia and smirked, "It is sad and lonely but has begun a growth we cannot see with our eyes. Sophia could see the tune in it's heart, the pulse of it's wish for attention which we are trying to see to so that the harmony can live."

Nygozy motioned with her hand towards the Arbiter's seat, "Please sit."

There was no statement or request for the man to call Nygozy anything but the official address; therefore, keeping this meeting on a strictly official manner. The man spoke, the commander listened and considered the words that he said in fluent and refined mannerisms. Even so, a coldness pervaded the spoken message and Nygozy could do no less than notice that there were levels upon this visit.

"A serial murderer...? Well now. That sounds as if it would make an interesting story. But wouldn't the Arl normally leave such a case to his household guards. I'm willing to guess that these aren't ordinary killings... or an ordinary killer."

Leaving the question open from Sophia, Nygozy allowed for further curiosity, "It seems that the lord Dragonis is within my district? ... Making this a concern for the leige to take whatever justice would be required? Is this it or is it such killings that wardens would be required to settle?"

The question was why this lord was looking for their help especially if Sophia was incorrect about it being a not so ordinary killer. Questions upon questions and a feeling that this one either knew more than he would say or knew less than they required.

Arbiter shifted uncomfortably for a moment and then sat back down at Nygozy's request. He was unsure of what to make of her. She certainly had the air of authority that he respected, but maybe it was her being a Warden that put him on edge. Comfortably seated now, he listened first to Sophia's musing that it was not an ordinary killer. The envoy nodded grimly. "It's a strange tale... Normally we would be able to find such murderers but this one knows how to cover his or her tracks. This killer also seems to vanish into the night. We suspect something supernatural at work, and my lord requested you specifically. He did not attend the Landsmeet during the Blight, and thus has not had the pleasure of meeting you." he exposited, leaning back on the couch, and then subtly weaved a glamour spell around his face to make it look human as he removed his helmet.

With the spell's effect, he appeared to be handsome, albeit pale skinned and those dead eyes of his he was never really able to do anything about. He had close-cropped blond hair and beard stubble on his jawline. He knew keeping his helmet on would make him suspicious so he had this recursive spell in mind for earning their trust a little more. "Orastan falls within the province of Amaranthine, near Soldier's Peak to the west." he stated, answering the Warden-Commander's first question while resting his helmet on his lap. "And yes, protocol dictates that since you are our Teyrna now, you decide what is to be done. Also, my lord believes you and yours to be uniquely qualified for this task."

Uniquely qualified...

So. They suspected a monster.

Even as she prepared another cup of tea for Nygozy (a soft mixture of rose petals, bergamot and black tea designed to settled the stomach, with a saucer of honeyed black tea for Torture,) Sophia felt her mind drifting away, leaving her body on automatic while it slipped into a daydream to better consider the Arbiter's revelation... and also (though she hated to admit it,) so she wouldn't have to look at second, 'human' mask the creature had decided to wear in lieu of its true face. It was a simple enough Glamour, akin to the deceptions of sprites and pixies in her favourite fairy tales, but to Sophia's Fade-washed eyes it appeared less as a construct of flesh and blood and more of a veil, a wisp of dream-cloth that moulded itself to the Arbiter's face. While the mask was handsome, in a washed out, anemic way, it did very little to hide the twisted truth beneath it. In fact, if Sophia crossed her eyes, she could glimpse both faces at one, the fair and the foul, melting together in a bubbling soup of congealed tongues, dripping with undelivered messages. It would have been enough to make any stomach turn.

However, the Mistress was already uneasy: wariness clung to her in a cloud that was almost palpable. It wouldn't do to compound her troubles simply because she was feeling queasy. She forced her body to remain relaxed, poised, smile firmly in place, lidded eyes drooping so that, were it not for the efficient way she laid out Nygozy's tea in front of her before returning to her seat (cross your legs, Sophia), she could have been asleep. Only someone watching carefully would have noticed the way she sat down a little closer to her Mistress than before, or how the white ribbons tightened ever so slightly around her wrists.

Just what was this creature? A murderer. A monster. A human monster, perhaps, but one so despicable that it had reminded the Arl and his people of more recent monsters. Why else would the Arbiter have come to the Wardens if not to ask them to vanquish a nightmare equal to that of the Darkspawn? A creature that killed without mercy and vanished into the night was horrifying enough, but to have such a beast appear so soon after the Blight, when stories of the Darkspawn were still so fresh in the people's minds...

Sophia couldn't help but be impressed. Under the circumstances it was a wonder that the Arl's guards had been able to do anything other than cower. Not only was their monster slowly building a blood-soaked legend of its own, but exploiting the terrifying memories of the Blight in order to add to that legend...

At least, that's what I would do.

Then again, the Arbiter's entreaty could be the result of simple politics. He had suggested as much himself... which was enough to make Sophia skeptical. They were being all but forced to investigate, by political snares on one hand and the shimmering webs of conscience on the other. And then there was the re-appearance of the Dragonis name on top of all of that...

Sophia flicked a veiled glance at Nygozy from behind her smile, hoping that her Mistress would notice her excitement... and the uneasiness woven through it. That they would have to investigate was inevitable, but what in Thedas would they end up finding?

She sat back taking her tea in hand and smelling the lovely scent of the rose and other ingredients. Her eyes closed for a mere moment then she smiled, "You need to make tea for me more often, Sophia. After this meeting maybe we should take a lunch break together."

It was, of course, part of a wish for such and part a hint that she wished counsel from the other woman. With a simple glance she hoped her eyes would tell Sophia that she was concerned and needed to speak with her.

The Arbiter spoke more and Nygozy took a look at him as she sipped her tea. So that was it. A duty to the people already dropped onto her doorstep by a person she could not trust and definitely would not trust. She glanced to Sophia again to take note of what she may think of all this then down at Torture who licked up his tea but glared at the Arbiter. Yes, Torture felt it as well.

"It is definitely a situation that we need to deal with. Did you bring any further information from your liege to explain what had happened better or is this a voice confirmation of what happened? I want to know all the details. Who these women were who were torn asunder, what time it was when they were killed, how they were found, in what state they were found and if there has been any form of investigation to this point which has found any possible clues as to why and how."

Nygozy sipped more at her tea and watched the man with a calmness she did not feel inside. He was something but she could not put a name to it whether he was a diplomat she just felt uneasy about or something, someone much more. There was a tingling she could feel which was almost the same as the taint but not quite. This required more attention, "Also, is it specifically requested and required that I attend this situation personally?"

Arbiter scratched his chin, and then stood up to pace around. The Warden-Commander was conversing with Lady Sophia, mostly something about tea but he could feel the tension in the air directed at him. Understandable, he was a stranger, not to mention that he could not mask all of his deformities. He had hoped that his appearance would be too unsettling but alas, he had to deal with this.

The Warden-Commander asked him for more detail and he nodded. "From what we could gather, the women were mostly prostitutes, some were women with little money, others were girls barely adults. They had been torn apart, and their killer left no tracks or clues as to its nature. Some suspect it being a spirit but I doubt that. Ghosts tend to haunt one area, but this one is all over the town." he then cleared his throat, standing up straight again. "They're usually killed when alone, at night. The whores are killed at closing time in the brothels. And my lord requested you, but if you are too busy here, send a few of your people to Orastan to take care of it."

Back-and-forth, to-and-fro, dance around the fireplace, ho! Can't you see, beauty free, the things that you have done to me...

As the Arbiter's boots rapped out their rhythm on the flagstone floor, Sophia let the Arbiter's words paint pictures of the attacks before her mind's eye, shuddering beneath her ribbons as her imagination added touches she would have much rather done without. With each circuit their visitor made around the couch, imaginary corpses danced in his wake like bloodstained marionettes, whispering the secrets that Sophia's musings were beginning to piece together.

Can't you see, beauty free, the things that you have done to me.

"Crimes of desire." She remarked, her tone calm, too calm. "Our wayward beast has a ravenous appetite."

She could empathise. Of all people, she knew what it was to commit atrocity in the name of desire. But...

One of the puppets, a girl who in a year's time might have been called a woman, lifted violated eyes to stare at her. Sophia returned her gaze as best she could, just for a moment, before clearing her mind with blink. Back to reality with nausea twisting in her stomach and ice floating in her eyes.

... there was a line between a symphonies and depravities that she had never crossed. This beast had. And that made all the difference.

Nygozy's head dipped as the Arbiter described what women were attacked and the basics of the results. Even without full information about the crimes it sickened the warden commander to even consider what this all meant. She put down her tea and lifted a hand to her mouth for a moment as she felt the faint flutterings of morning sickness.

Just what I need: my child making doing my job a vomitous affair. I need to remember no more morning meetings.

Her eyes shifted to the shadows where she knew her love to be stalking at the moment and knew exactly what he must be thinking. There was no way he was going to want her going in on this mission.

She took a deep breath to hold down the sickness which could overwhelm her at any moment and gave Sophia a slight glance again. Torture had finished his doggy tea and was sitting up looking at her, ready to clear the way if she required a swift move from where she was.

"I understand. Well then Arbiter, it seems that there is much to do. One of my guards will take you to a room where you can rest from your exhausting travel here. If there is more information that you think of that can help in this mission I would appreciate if you could write it out for me."

Nygozy stood and gave a slight bow to the man, "I will arrange the party to go within the next couple of days. Now, if you will excuse me there are other matters to which I must attend."

Nygozy turned and left the room with as much dignity as she could gather which probably was a fair amount, or so she hoped. Her stomach churned as she walked but she did not turn from her path, "Sophia?" She hoped the lady had come with her, "I need to speak with you about this but I will also need someone who may be capable of discussing this matter as well. Who would you suggest I have called? Garroll, Tamasran, Fremelda?"

She stopped when they rounded a corner and put her shoulder to the wall to wait for some nausea to lift. It was easy for her to fight amongst rotting dead and stenchful creatures yet morning sickness was taking it's due on her today. The dwarven woman waited for a response from Sophia as she allowed her stomach to settle.

"Easy..."

Sophia paused, ribbon-wrapped hands gently rubbing Nygozy's back. Even though she knew how horrible a sustained bout of morning sickness could be, Sophia found herself smiling with a little more warmth than usual. Seeing her Mistress like this brought back memories she thought she had completely forgotten.

"If you have to vomit, then vomit. There's no use in telling your body not to do something that it thinks it has to do, and no mess you can make that a little magic can't clean up." Sophia murmured, all the while carefully watching the colour of Nygozy's face. "You're doing far better than I ever did. When I was pregnant with my first child, sometimes I could barely move all day. My husband was furious. He was Chasind, you see, so we were constantly on the move. Sometimes he would threaten to tie me to a horse like a saddlebag and ride on regardless of my condition if I was feeling particularly horrible, but he never did. At the most, he would ask me to ride behind him and pull the most amazing faces whenever I retched." A fond, sad smile flickered across her lips. "Sometimes I would pretend to be ill just to see if I could coax a new collection of expressions out of him."

She continued her ministrations silently as she considered her Mistress's choice of councellors, turning what she knew about each of them over in her mind next to the information that the Arbiter had provided.

"... I respect the Tamasran's insight." She said finally. "And if this were simply a diplomatic incident I would call for him immediately. But his story is not suited to this one: the killings in Orastan are of shadows, darkness, blood, desire, things that I believe are outside of his experience.

"Garoll is a seasoned soldier who has much experience in dealing with monsters... however..." Sophia coughed delicately, glad that her Mistress couldn't see the faint blush brushing her cheeks, "... I'm afraid that I know little about him besides that... I haven't had much of an opportunity to peruse his story. Though I do know that would rather endure the consequences of a hundred children than sit through another night of his cooking.

"No, for this situation, I would call upon Fremelda. This beast swims through the same shadows she once did, and if anyone could offer advice on how to track it, it would be her. And besides..." Sophia lent forward to whisper, a lock of raven-hued hair brushing Nygozy's ear, teasing, secretive, laughing. "... Fremelda is connected to Orastan in a way that none of the others are, even if she doesn't know it. It would be an insult to everything she is: her name, her past, her way of life, if we didn't give her a chance to participate in this particular dance.

"But no matter who we call, I think we should have our discussion somewhere comfortable." Ribbon-wrapped fingers looped gently through Nygozy's own, a small offer of solidarity. "After all, if one has to vomit, one should do so in the most soothing setting possible. Don't you agree?"

Arbiter placed his helmet and mask back on. He was grateful for the lodgings and voiced this to his hostess. Clapping a fist to his heart, he dismissed himself while she went to converse with Lady Sophia. He was pleased the meeting went well, they seemed like decent people. Maybe there was hope for his master's land. He followed a servant to his quarters, a room similar to his lodgings at Orastan keep. Now that he was alone, he dropped the facade of his face, but kept the mask on.


Meanwhile, Fremelda wandered the halls of Vigil's Keep, her nightmares kept her awake the night, but she masked her weariness to keep up the appearance of being hard-boiled. She combed her fingers through her red hair, wondering about this so called guest they had at the keep, but dismissed it as being something the Seneschal could take care of. She did hear voices near the lobby, the sing-song tone of Sophia along with the much less cheerful Nygozy's. She offered them a nod as she passed them, and continued on her way.

"That is a problem that a commander has to deal with, especially one with as many enemies as I have been, and am, able to acquire just by being whom I am. Vomitting in front of others would be a sign of weakness I cannot display."

Nygozy looked back at Sophia with one eye, a slight smile twitching at the edge of her lips even though she noticeably was working on keeping the sickness back, for now, "That can be dangerous especially around those I cannot trust."

Suddenly the little woman turned her head, knelt down and retched. Sitting on her heels she choked out what little food and drink she'd had then spit a few times to get out the rest, "Well that makes an announcement for you." She stated as she rolled her head to the side to rest her cheek on Sophia's hand, "A soothing setting would be great at this point."

Nygozy noticed Fremelda passing them and said quietly, with some relief and tiredness to her voice, "Her too."

"My, my..." Sophia laughed softly, gently helping Nygozy back to her feet. "Are you saying that you don't trust me?" But the light in her eyes was warm as she flicked a handkerchief from her pocket, wiping the little Warden's mouth before she could protest. "There," she murmured, ribbon-wrapped fingers lingering for a moment on Nygozy's cheek. "If there is any sign of weakness there, I do not see it. Oh, I almost forgot... here." A small silver cup, filled with water, was pushed into Nygozy's hands. "I know how horrible that taste can be."

Really, it was strange how feelings could develop. In Sophia's experience, it all depended on how she viewed a specific person, or rather, how many different sides of them she was allowed to see. Her Mistress had always been strong, the living embodiment of the legend who had slain the Archdemon. In many ways, Sophia thought, it would be reasonable for the little dwarf to assume that showing weakness was a luxury she could not afford, and in many situations that was certainly the case, but...

... that little bit of weakness had shown that Nygozy was still mortal. And that little bit of trust made Sophia, just for a moment, love her more than all the legends in the world. Beaming, the willowy mage busied herself for a moment kindling a cloud of sparks around the mess of the floor, taking just long enough about reducing it to ash to regain her doll-like composure, but she couldn't disguise the sparkles dancing in her sapphire eyes.

Trust could be intoxicating.

"Now... why don't we go outside? The courtyard gardens are quite lovely in the morning sunlight." Taking Nygozy's hand, Sophia began to lead her gently through the corridors, pausing as she noticed Fremelda passing by in the opposite direction.

"Now, now, no escape." Aria soared sidewards, wrapping itself firmly about Fremelda's waist. Sophia tugged on it, grinning mischievously at her captive. Really, why couldn't every day be this much fun?

---

While it was true that the gardens were still a little sparse, the desultory efforts of workmen and servants alike were beginning to work wonders. Plots for vegetable patches and herb gardens had already been laid out, for the eventual convenience of healers and kitchen-hands alike, but the area that Sophia had chosen was a tiny bower nestled in a nook between two of the Keep's walls, where a fair-sized ash tree held court in the shade. Around it, delicate arrangements of various sorts of flowers bloomed shyly between mossy rocks, dipping their blooms as the three women approached. A passing thought tugged at Sophia's hairband, keen to expound upon the idea that this tiny piece of sweet-smelling tranquility had been laid out by one of the Keep's previous occupants (human, obviously, though the idea of Darkspawn tending to the soil, trowels in hand, made Sophia giggle,) but the willowy mage brushed it aside. There was no use in dwelling on the backdrop when the story itself promised to be much more interesting.

Resting beneath the tree was a stone bench, shaped perfectly so that the spreading trunk of the ash made a smooth, comfortable backrest. Sophia guided Nygozy towards it, settling down herself with a hum of contentment... but making sure to leave enough room for her companions, of course.

"Welcome to the Bower. Make yourselves at home."

((Sophia ---> Nygozy: Approval +7 ^^

Fremelda froze in place as silky steel wrapped around her waist and pulled her towards Sophia. She placed her free hand on the hilt of Thorn for a moment, leveling a glare at Sophia. She didn't like being forced into moving but she cooled, remembering her place. Nygozy looked ill, probably because of the growing life within her. Fremelda sighed. "What do you want with me? And where are we going?" she asked. No one answered her but eventually they went into the gardens? Odd choice, really but Fremelda shrugged. "So what is it you want?" she asked her two companions.

Nygozy chuckled at Sophia's teasing and took the water thankfully. It was just what she needed to settle out her tummy and get rid of that horrid taste. She drank slowly and left her trust in Sophia to bring her somewhere pleasant to settle into and she was right. This garden was perfect. With the natural beauty returning, waving in the light breeze as if the plantlife was waving at the sun, one could almost believe there had not been anything wrong here.

She sat down on the bench, leaning against Sophia and allowing the feel of the woman's shoulder to be a comfort while she waited for the turmoil to settle in her system. Kai was likely furious with fear for her giving such belief in Sophia but she felt this woman could be trusted.

Finally she sat up with her back against the natural back of the bench and whistled. Torture bounded off to watch the perimeter as the little woman gave Sophia and thankful smile, "Thank you, Sophia." It was not a big display but her eyes said all the thanks she needed. The help during these moments was always respected and the gentle touch to that help even more so.

Between a breath and the next Nygozy turned back from the thankful mother to be into the commander, her head turning to look at Fremelda, "I asked Sophia whom best for counsel and she chose you from my list of whom I wished to choose from."

"Orastan. That is why we chose you."

Sophia's hooded eyes flicked over to rest upon Fremelda, even as her hand remained resting lightly on Nygozy's upper arm, a silent returning of the trust the little commander had shown. Inwardly Sophia couldn't help but giggle: she could almost imagine Kai's hands tightening on the handles of his daggers, tensing to leap if she dared do anything more. It would be something he would have to get used to. As precious as Sophia guessed she was to the elven assassin, Nygozy still deserved friends, and if one of those friends happened to be a certain storyteller then so much the better. She could only hope that he would rise above his paranoia before he overreacted and tried to slip a knife between her ribs.

But she could muse about that later. Slowly, Sophia focused the whole of her attention upon Fremelda, leaning forward to rest her chin on the back of a ribbon-wrapped hand. Watching with the utmost care to see how she should react.

"Someone in Orastan is hunting in the same shadows you used to haunt, my dear Fremelda. Someone who treats his wanton slaughter as little more than an game. And the shadows this someone is hunting in belong to an Arl Gerrik Dragonis, who sent a silk-tongued servant especially to ask for our aid..." She paused, all but laughing, sapphire eyes dancing. "Can you see why I thought you might be interested, Fre-mel-da?"