A/N: Yeah, yeah, I know. 'Why am I starting a new story with three unfinished ones that are waiting for the next update?' The plot bunnies won't leave me alone. They found something distracting and keep running it around in my head. I promise I'll attempt to get a chapter of one of the others out next.

Now, this is Dragon Age 2 - or II, whichever - with both Hawkes, Garrett and Marian. They each have their default appearance, Marian has the red splotch on her nose, Garrett doesn't.

I think that's it for now... If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask.

An arrow whizzed through the air, trailing white light, before slamming into the shoulder of its intended target, knocking it to the ground to be impacted and engulfed by a fireball. When the fire died down enough, there was little but ash remaining. A dagger flew into another shoulder, staggering its target long enough for a young man with a greatsword to run up and cleave it in two.

"Maker, but these darkspawn are everywhere," commented a young woman pulling a dagger out of the monster it was embedded in.

"Yes, Marian," grumbled the young man wiping darkspawn blood off of his sword onto one of the few clean pieces of fabric from a slain monstrosity. "That's why we're leaving Lothering."

"Oh, lighten up, Carver," a bearded young man with what appeared to be a mahogany bow with a glowing bowstring said, lowering his bow and watching the bowstring fade from existence. "We're all just as tired as you are, there's no need to bring us down with your negativity."

"Oh yeah?" roared Carver, pointing his massive sword towards his companion. "Well, at least I'm not laughing at the destruction of our lives!"

"Carver! Garrett! Can we please just focus on living?" pleaded the young woman who was holding a large staff and had licks of flame curling from her fingers. "There'll be time for you to kill each other after we get to… where are we going anyway?"

"Away from the darkspawn, Bethany," Marian commented, walking to the other three, shaking blood off of her daggers. "Or would you rather go towards the darkspawn?"

Bethany blushed slightly. "W-well, no, but we need a destination. We can't just wander aimlessly."

The last of the group, an older woman who had been catching her breath to the side, finally walked up, followed by a large white dog. "Now, now, settle down, we're all on the same side here." After four 'yes, Mother's, she continued. "We can go to Kirkwall."

All four looked at her with varying degrees of confusion. Bethany spoke first. "There's a lot of templars in Kirkwall, Mother."

"I know that," answered Leandra, their mother. "But we still have family there, and an estate."

Bethany sighed, defeated. "Then we need to get to Gwaren and take ship."

"If we survive that long," Carver griped, turning and moving farther down the path they were on. "I'll be happy to get out of here."

"Oh, quiet, you," Marian chuckled, following after him with the others in tow. "You wouldn't know 'happy' if it bit you." Garrett chuckled right alongside her, Bethany and Leandra shaking their heads as they followed, the hound barking quietly in amusement alongside them.

After a relatively short period of combat, several slain darkspawn, plenty of banter from Garrett and Marian, the occasional giggle from Bethany, and the slightly more common groans from Carver, the group rounded a corner only to come across two other refugees surrounded by darkspawn. Quickly coming to their aid, the group cleared the immediate area of darkspawn, allowing them a hint of breathing room.

"Stop squirming, Wesley," the redheaded woman said, standing over the man in steel plate lying on the ground and struggling to sit up. "You'll make it worse."

The man, Wesley, shrugged off her concern, turning towards Bethany, standing at the back of the approaching group, next to her Mother. "Apostate, keep your distance." He gasped when he noticed Garrett's bowstring flash and an immaterial arrow appear nocked and ready to fire, and his eyes narrowed as he saw Marian and Carver's weapons begin to glow slightly. "Apostates," he corrected with slight venom in his voice.

Bethany sighed, bringing her staff up slightly. "Well, the Maker has a sense of humor. Darkspawn, and now a Templar."

"But of course," Marian spoke, her daggers in position for quick action. "It wouldn't be fun otherwise." Garrett chuckled, while Carver and the redheaded woman sighed.

"The 'spawn are clear in their intent, a mage is always unknown," Wesley grumbled. "The Order dictates…"

"Wesley," the woman next to him interrupted.

"These people are apostates," he continued, advancing towards the group, causing them to tense. "The Order dictates…"

"Dear," the woman interrupted once again. "They saved us. The Maker understands."

After a tense moment, Wesley bowed his head slightly and backed towards the woman. "Of course."

"I am Aveline Vallen," the woman introduced herself, allowing the Hawkes to relax slightly. "This is my husband, Ser Wesley."

Garrett stepped forward slightly, Marian coming forward with him. "My name is Garrett Hawke, these are my sisters, Marian and Bethany, my brother, Carver, our mother, Leandra, and our mabari, Allan," he introduced. "Now, what is a templar doing out here in the middle of a Blight?"

"I was traveling to Denerim on business for the Order, but I had to turn south when I heard of Ostagar." Wesley and Aveline glanced at each other, before Aveline took over.

"Bad luck – and judgment – brought us together here before the attack."

"Why do we care what they're doing here?" Marian questions.

Carver snorts. "Yes, so long as they keep their focus on the darkspawn I'll be happy."

"We can hate each other when we're safe from the horde," Aveline groused.

"Well, as long as we're all happy." Garrett chuckled dryly, beginning to walk in the direction that his family was originally headed, the other Hawkes following behind.

Wesley stepped into his way. "Where do you think you're going?"

Garrett stopped, raising an eyebrow. "Away from the darkspawn. Where else?"

Wesley crossed his arms across his chest before wincing from his shoulder wound. "Only the Korcari Wilds lie south. There's nothing that way."

Garrett scowled slightly. "Yes, and past that is Gwaren, where we'll take ship for Kirkwall."

Wesley scowled right back. "And why do you take the lead?"

"My family trusts me to be their leader, and right now we out number you." Garrett chuckled. "And I wasn't aware that I was trying to lead you."

Wesley bristled at this, only to be reminded of his injury. He began to speak, only to be cut off by Aveline. "I believe that my husband meant that we expected to join forces with any other survivors that we came across."

Garrett chuckled, followed by Marian. "Well, feel free to tag along, but we aren't changing our plans. We're heading towards family." Garrett then pushed his way past the two newcomers, who stared at each other as the rest of the Hawkes followed after Garrett, before turning and following next to Bethany and Leandra, Allan trotting along in the rear.

Marian turned back hearing the disgruntled mumbling of a certain templar. "Welcome to the flock, you two," she commented, before erupting in laughter at Wesley's increased mumbling, barely catching something about presumptuous mages.

After pulling themselves together, our group of eight resumed their travel, battling the occasional band of darkspawn without much difficulty. They reached a small hollow where they encountered an emissary apprentice with a group of 'spawn and cleared it out. Afterwards they stopped for their feeble (Leandra, just don't let her hear you say that) and their wounded (Wesley, although he did his best not to let it show) to catch their breath.

Bethany, while still keeping her eyes peeled, sidled up to Wesley. "Are you okay?" she asked. "You aren't looking so good. Do you need me to heal you?"

Wesley grunted. "No, you need to save your mana for the darkspawn."

Bethany sighed. "Not every mage is evil, you know."

"I know that," Wesley responded. "But enough mages are that it serves to be cautious."

"There are more evil swordsmen than there are evil mages, I'm sure," Bethany grumbled.

"True," Wesley replied. "But it is easier to block or deflect a sword than a fireball. I am just as cautious with swordsmen as I am with mages, but mages require a different type of caution."

Bethany stared at the templar for a few moments. "Do… all templars feel that way?"

"Sadly, no, they don't." Wesley sighed. "I knew an apostate when I was young. She and her parents explained the basics of magic to me, so I was able to filter out the truth from the Order's fear. I am guarded around apostates because I am guarded around everyone I don't trust. I joined the Order because its goal is to protect the people, not to attack mages." After several long moments of silence, with Bethany staring at him in wonder, he began again. "That is a beautifully carved staff. Where did you get it?"

Bethany sighed. "My father made it for me as a coming-of-age present. He was a mage, but he liked to tinker with blacksmithing." She sighed, raising the staff to inspect it, the late afternoon sunlight glinting off of the crescent blades surrounding the exquisitely carved wooden staff. "This staff is actually lyrium-infused steel with a wooden veneer. It greatly augments my magical abilities. Father made us each a weapon, based on our talents and magical affinity. I don't know if you know, but everyone has some connection to the Fade. I was the only one of the four of us that had a strong enough connection to be a true mage. Garrett has the next strongest, but it's only about half the strength of mine, with Marian and Carver a little less than him."

She sighed once more, staring out at Garrett and Marian as they stood watch. "Garrett and Marian, twins that they are, are closer to each other than any other two of us. They were given twin weapons; Garrett says that Father told them that they were bows that split into a pair of daggers, but Marian insists that it's the other way around. Father told me and Carver that our weapons were also twin weapons except for the fact that I have a staff and Carver has a greatsword. I-"

She was cut off by Garrett, who was standing next to Leandra and Allan. "Wesley, are you ready to go?"

Wesley stood with a slight grimace. "Yes, Messere Hawke," he mumbled just loudly enough for Garrett to hear him. He turned back to Bethany as Garrett began to get their merry band together. "I meant what I said. You need to save your mana for the darkspawn and those of us who are already fighting fit. I fear that even with healing, I will never be able to use this arm for anything strenuous. I will wait until we set camp for the night."

Bethany smiled at him. "Alright, then. What say we get a move on?"

"Now, that's a big beastie," Marian commented, as the eight of them stared in slight horror at the incoming darkspawn. The origin of their fear was the massive beast that was charging at them, knocking away its brethren in its haste. It stood at least twice as tall as the rest of the 'spawn nearby, hunched over as it was. As it neared, it reared back and roared, before dropping even lower to bring its curled horns level with the companions, who stood frozen staring down their death. "Um," Marian began again. "I think it would be a good idea to get out of its way."

The grouped jumped away, letting the ogre charge between them and ram into a large uprising of stone at the edge of the rise they were standing their ground on. Garrett swung around quickly, before the ogre could pry its horns from the stone, and shot a mana arrow that pierced the ogre through its giant foot and nailed it to the ground. "Go, now! Take it down while it's stuck; I can't hold it forever." As Garrett said that, the rest of the fighters began their assault. Marian, Carver, Aveline, and Allan charged into melee range as Bethany began a barrage of fireballs and Garrett began forcing more mana into his arrow to counteract the ogre's attempt to free itself.

After several minutes of blows raining down on the ogre, it finally broke free, roaring in victory. As it finished its celebration, it turned towards the closest of the group: Carver. It raised a giant arm above its head and brought it down at Carver, who dove out of the way, losing his sword in the process. Before Carver could regain his bearings and his footing, the ogre's other arm was already on its way down.

Carver closed his eyes, bracing for the impact, waiting for the end…

And waiting…

And waiting…

Carver cracked an eye open to see an unchanged dark gray sky. He sat up and saw the massive feet of the ogre staring at him. After a moment of stunned silence, he struggled to his feet to meet Leandra running over. "What happened?" he asked her, as she helped steady him.

"Garrett got a shot off, right between the eyes," she began, fussing over him. "That slowed it down enough for Bethany to hit it with lightning. That seems to have killed it." She sighed. "You need to be more careful, Carver."

Carver nodded, grunting. "I know, Mother." He stepped out of her grip towards his sword, and stumbled.

Leandra caught him before he could fall too far. "Rest for a moment, Carver. The others can handle themselves for a little bit."

Carver reluctantly agreed, sitting down and looking out at the rest of the group. They had formed a defensive barrier between Carver, Leandra, and Wesley and the darkspawn.

"Well, at least this can't get any worse!" Marian called out. "I mean, we've had to flee our homes, been attacked by darkspawn, had that big beastie almost eat Carver, what else could happen? A dra-"

She was cut off by an earthshaking roar, coming from the top of the cliff they were backed up against. Everyone in the clearing, including the darkspawn, turned their gaze upwards to see a large red dragon staring down on the two groups. It roared once more before drawing itself up, spreading its wings, and dropping down towards the clearing.

"Well," Marian sighed. "Looks like I spoke to soon."

"Hurtled into the chaos you fight… and the world will shake before you." The shapeshifter turned away from the group towards the burning remains of the squad of 'spawn. "Is it fate or chance? I can never decide."

After a moment, she turned back. "It appears fortune smiles on us both today. I may be able to help you, yet."

Marian and Garrett glanced at each other, before turning back towards the woman standing in front of them.

The woman who saved them using the form of a dragon.

"So…" Marian began. "That's it? There must be a catch."

Flemeth laughed. "There is always a catch. Life is a catch! I suggest you catch it while you can!"

Carver called over from where he was sitting next to Wesley and Leandra against the cliff. "Should we even trust her? We don't even know what she is!"

"I know what she is," Aveline spoke up from where she was tending to Wesley. "The Witch of the Wilds."

"Some call me that. Also Flemeth. Asha'bellanar." Flemeth chuckled. "An 'old hag who talks too much'." Marian only just stifled a chuckle. "Does it matter? I offer you this. I will get your group past the horde in exchange for a simple delivery to a place not far out of your way. Would you do this for a Witch of the Wilds?"

Garrett and Marian glanced at each other, a silent conversation taking place. Garrett then turned and called over his shoulder. "What do the rest of you think?"

Aveline glanced up. "Wesley won't make it much farther."

Carver stood up from his seat. "It doesn't seem like we have much of a choice," he said as he move to stand next to Bethany.

Garrett glanced back at Marian, who said, "Roast a few more darkspawn, we'll do anything you want."

"Sadly," Flemeth began, "my charity is at an end. There is a clan of Dalish elves near the city of Kirkwall." She walked up and placed something in Garrett's outstretched hand. "Deliver this amulet to their Keeper, Marethari. Do as she asks with it, and any debt between us is paid in full." She turned away from the group. "Before I take you anywhere, however, there is another matter…" she trailed off, looking towards where Aveline was tending to her husband, who appeared to be getting worse by the second.

After a particularly nasty cough, the whole group, including Flemeth, moved to stand around the two. Aveline stood to confront Flemeth. "No," she began forcefully. "Leave him alone."

"What has been done to your man is in his blood already," Flemeth replied gravely.

"You lie," Aveline responded.

"She's right, Aveline," Wesley said weakly from his position on the ground. "I can feel the corruption inside me."

Garrett turned to Flemeth next to him. "This 'corruption' is the permanent sort, I take it?"

"The only cure I know of is to become a Grey Warden," she answered.

"And they all died at Ostagar," Aveline put in, downtrodden.

"Not all," Flemeth said, "but the last are now beyond your reach."

"Aveline," Wesley said, gaining the attention of the group and bringing her down next to him. "Listen to me."

"You can't ask me this!" she cut him off. "I won't."

"Please…" he returned. "The corruption is a slow death. I can't…" he trailed off.

Marian knelt down next to Aveline and placed an arm around her shoulders. "He's your husband, Aveline. No one else can make this decision for you." Aveline nodded, took a breath, and shrugged the arm off. Marian backed away to give the two space.

After several moments and a few hushed words, Wesley brought his belt dagger up and Aveline took his hand. Together, they brought the dagger down into Wesley's heart.

Aveline stood up and backed away into Marian's waiting arms. Flemeth came up behind them, offering her own brand of comfort. "Without an end, there can be no peace." After another moment of silence, she turned away from the scene. "It gets no easier. Your struggles have only just begun."

After two weeks of rough sailing, the Hawkes, and Aveline, arrived in Kirkwall. They disembarked to find a large crowd of refugees being kept out on the docks by a squad of city guards.

"They're not letting anyone into the city," Aveline stated, slightly defeated.

"What?" Leandra exclaimed, lagging slightly behind, Allan padding beside her. "That can't be!"

"It's true," Aveline retorted. "Look at them all."

After a moment of staring at the sad sight, Carver spoke up. "Are we really surprised? Everyone's fleeing the Blight, just as we are."

Aveline picked up after him. "And they would throw us all back to the wolves. Unbelievable."

Marian chuckled slightly. "I'm only surprised they let us dock."

"We'll be fine," Bethany said, "so long as we're all together and uninjured."

"We need to find Gamlen," Leandra put in. "Our family has always been highly regarded in Kirkwall. He can do something, I'm sure of it!"

Carver scoffed. "Let's hope he received your letter."

Aveline, who was still observing the crowd and the guards, began walking towards the entrance into the Gallows, which led to the city. "The guards seem to be reporting to that man. Perhaps we should speak to him."

Garrett and Marian nodded at each other and then at Aveline before leading the way towards the guard that Aveline had pointed out. Just as they approached him, he called out. "Get back to the crowd, you lot. Trying to bully your way through won't get you into Kirkwall any faster!"

Garrett finished his approach before he began. "But you do intend to let us in?"

The guardsmen let out a bark of laughter. "We have enough poor of our own in the Free Marches. We don't need you refugees piling up here like a middens heap!"

Garrett scoffed. "There must be someone in charge I can speak with."

The guard sighed. "Yes, yes, always the same story. You want in, talk to Captain Ewald. I'm just here to keep you refuse from climbing the walls."

The guard went back to shouting orders and insults as Garrett and Marian led their flock past him through the gate. "Well," Marian began, after a silent moment, "he was nice."

Carver scoffed from behind them. "At least he was somewhat helpful."

The group traveled through a long, twisting corridor and up several flights of stairs in relative silence; the only sound from the group small chitchat between Bethany, Carver, and Aveline. After getting lost once or twice in the mazelike tunnel, the group finally surfaced into a large courtyard, surrounded by white stone and bronze statues that told of the rather grim past of the area.

In the center of the courtyard, back to the steps leading up to the interior of the city, stood a guardsman with fancier plate mail than any of the other city guards they had seen. "That must be the captain over there," Garrett pointed, gaining answering affirmations from the rest of the group. There was a group of mercenaries surrounding the captain, and as the group approached, they began to overhear the argument between the leader and the captain.

"We're not animals you can just corral," the leader of the mercenaries exclaimed.

"We've no intention of keeping everyone here, serah," the captain retorted. "You're all going back where you came from."

"My men and I fought against the Blight," the leader argued. "We're heroes!"

"Deserters, you mean?" the captain answered. "It doesn't matter. Kirkwall has no more room for anyone."

"Let us through, you flaming blighter!" the leader shouted. "We're not staying in this pit!"

"Then get back on your ship and leave. Kirkwall has no more room for refugees."

"The ship's already gone!" one of the mercenaries exclaimed. "We paid good coin to get here!"

The captain seemed as if he had been dealing with this for quite some time. "You and half of Ferelden. There's nothing I can do! The city is full!"

At that point, Garrett and Marian approached, catching the captain's attention. Marian began, "Surely there's a bit of extra room for the pretty people?"

The captain scoffed. "I find keeping my neck away from Knight-Commander Meredith's blade far more attractive than any of you. We've been letting you Fereldans in for months. You're too late. There's no more room!"

"We have family here," Garrett put in. "Does that help us any?"

The captain didn't seem convinced. "I've heard claims like that a thousand times already. Trust me, it won't." The captain paused a moment before continuing. "We'll find some ships to take you all back to Ferelden – eventually. Until then, you stay here."

"Is there someone else in charge we can talk to?" Garrett put in.

The captain sighed. "The city's been closed by order of the viscount and Knight-Commander Meredith, whose fortress you're standing in. But as far as you're concerned, I'm in charge."

Bethany came up from behind Garrett and Marian. "Our uncle is Gamlen Amell. He knows we're coming. Surely someone could find him."

"Gamlen? I know that name…" the captain trailed off.

"He's a nobleman here in the city," Bethany answered his unspoken question. "Our family has an estate."

"A nobleman?" the captain scoffed. "The only Gamlen I know is a weasel who couldn't rub two coppers together. He comes back, I'll bring you to him. But I don't have time to-"

The captain was cut off by the mercenary leader's indignant squawk. "What? You're going to let them through?"

"I didn't say anything about-"

This time, another mercenary interrupted him. "We've been here for four days! They just got here!"

"That's it!" the leader grumbled out. We're carving our way out of here. Men!"

At that, the mercenaries drew their weapons, drawing the attention of all the guards in the area. The mercenaries began to attack everyone in sight, including the newly arrived group. After a short battle, during which the group of six dominated the fighting, the captain walked up to Garrett and Marian, who were standing next to each other.

"Unbelievable," the captain murmured under his breath. He would have said more, but the guardsman that they had dealt with on the docks ran up.

"Captain! Are you all right?"

"I am, no thanks to you," the captain groused. "Where is everyone? There should have been more guards here. Go find them. I want this kept under control!" After the guard ran off, the captain turned back to the Hawkes. "You have my thanks. My name is Guard Captain Ewald." After a brief round of introductions, he continued. "Look, I can't get you into the city. It's not my decision, but I'll find your uncle and bring him here." Ewald then left to go hunt down Gamlen.

The group had been waiting near where Ewald said he would bring Gamlen, and Aveline was becoming stir crazy. "It's been three days. This waiting has to end."

"I'm sure it won't be much longer," Leandra said in an attempt to calm Aveline. "Gamlen must be on his way here as we speak!"

"And if he's not?" Aveline retorted.

Before Leandra could reply, Garrett approached the two. "Don't look now, but I think that's our uncle now."

A grey haired man came down the stairs towards where the group was waiting. After a moment of searching, he spotted them and smiled. "Leandra!" he called as he approached. "Damn, girl, the years haven't been kind to you."

Leandra's face lit up. "Gamlen!" she called as she turned towards him and rushed in for a hug that he slowly returned.

"Let me say up front, I wasn't expecting this," Gamlen began cautiously. "The Blight, your husband dead… I'd, ah, figured you'd pretty much be Fereldan for life."

"Oh, Gamlen," Leandra said. "It's been so long!" She sighed. "If only we'd come sooner, we could have brought more with us and we would already be inside. But now that you're here, we'll be home before we know it."

"Now hold on a minute, Leandra. I don't even know if I can help you get in."

Marian and Garrett approached the two, and Marian spoke up. "Would it help if I said you were my favorite uncle?"

Gamlen chuckled. "It'd make me feel better but that's about it."

Garrett spoke up next. "Can you at least point us in the right direction?"

Gamlen sighed. "I was hoping to grease some palms, but the knight-commander's been cracking down. We're gonna need more grease."

Leandra looked saddened. "But… what about the estate? Surely Father left something when he died."

"Right, about the estate…" Gamlen trailed off, shamefaced. "It's, uh, gone. To settle a debt. I've been meaning to write you."

"Then there's no hope," Leandra said, devastated.

"Not quite," Gamlen put in. "I know some people who might help… if you're not too delicate about the company you keep."

"Well, let's hear it, Uncle," Garrett replied. "What do you have in mind?"

"I talked to my contacts and I found some people who might be willing to pay your way into the city," Gamlen explained. "The catch is that the four of you will have to work off the debt. For a year."

"A year!" Leandra exclaimed.

"It's the best I could do!" Gamlen attempted to justify himself. "Trust me when I say a bunch of refugees won't get a better option anywhere else."

Marian spoke up at this. "I'm sure we'll be free and clear before we know it."

"I managed to convince my contacts to come to the Gallows to meet you personally. Meeran is the head of the Red Iron, a group of mercenaries. They're looking for recruits. Then there's Athenril… I guess you might call her a smuggler. They can both help you. Just find them in the courtyard and convince them you're worth the trouble."

Garrett and Marian glanced at each other for a moment before turning to Bethany and Carver. Garrett spoke up. "What do you two think?"

Bethany spoke up first. "Better here than nowhere."

Carver nodded. "It doesn't really look like we have a choice, does it?"

Garrett nodded. "Alright then, let's go talk to them."

Before they could start off, Leandra spoke up. "Oh, Gamlen, I don't know about this."

"It's a lot of coin, Leandra." Gamlen sighed. "Don't go expecting our name to carry the kind of weight it used to."

"And what of me?" Aveline began, drawing attention to herself. "I will not allow others to incur debts on my behalf."

Gamlen chuckled. "Can't see that it makes a difference. You look like a lady who can pull her own weight."

Leandra turned to her. "Then you'll come with us."

"I… have no real option," Aveline replied. "Thank you."

Gamlen and Leandra, with Allan tagging along, went off to find somewhere to wait while the rest of the group went hunting for these mysterious benefactors.

After another silent conversation, Garrett and Marian decided to seek out Meeran, being a mercenary sounded slightly more honorable than being a smuggler. After reaching the courtyard and taking a look around, they spotted a group of men over to one side, all wearing matching uniforms. "That looks like our contacts," Garrett pointed out to Marian, who nodded, before the two led the way over. "Meeran?" Garrett called out as they reached earshot.

A rather sleazy man with slicked back grey hair and slightly fancier red armor turned to meet them. "Huh. So you're Hawke. The nephew." He then turned his gaze towards Marian. "And you must be the niece." He turned and began pacing. "Your uncle's talked up a storm about you. He better not be blowing more smoke out his ass."

Marian nudged Garrett capturing his attention for a silent conversation, after which Garrett sighed and nodded. He turned back to Meeran. "It was nice to meet you. We need a moment to think it over."

"Take your time," Meeran smiled, leering slightly towards Marian. "But do try to have your answer by the end of the day. No one likes being in the Gallows for too long." Garrett nodded, leading the group out of sight.

"What was that about?" Carver started once they were out of earshot.

Garrett glared at him slightly. "Marian doesn't feel comfortable working with him."

Aveline broke in before Carver could answer. "She told you that in that two second glance?"

Garrett shrugged, and Marian answered, "We're twins, and we're close. We understand each other."

Aveline 'ah'ed in understanding. "Carry on then."

Marian nodded. "He looked at me less like a warrior and more like a piece of meat. And I could feel his men staring at me… I feel like I need a bath…"

Garrett took over as she trailed off. "So, we'll go see this… Athenril. See if she's any better." He then led the way towards where he had seen a few people over in a small alcove off one side of the courtyard who looked tense.

As they approached the one who seemed to be in charge, she was talking in hushed tones to one of her men. Garrett called out when they got in easy speaking range. "Are you Athenril?"

She finished her quiet conversation before turning to greet them. "You must be Gamlen's nephew," she began, before turning to Marian, who was standing next to Garrett. "And you must be his niece." She took a moment to study them. "Interesting… I don't know what he told you about us, but he's certainly told us a lot about you."

"He hasn't told us too much," Garrett responded. "Perhaps you'd like to elaborate?"

"Well," she began. "I'm sure he told you I'm a smuggler. Me and my crew can't compete with the thieves' guild, but we keep our fingers in a lot of pots. That said, we're not killers or slavers. Anything short of that, however, is fair game."

Garrett and Marian glanced at each other, before Garrett turned back to Athenril. "Would you mind giving us a moment to talk this over?"

"Not at all!" Athenril replied. "But do hurry up. My crew isn't exactly comfortable around so many guards."

Garrett nodded and led the rest of the group away. "Well," he began once they were out of sight. "What do you think?"

Aveline's face scrunched up. "Do what you want, but something sounds fishy to me."

"Begging and taking your pick never went hand-to-hand," Bethany stated.

"Fine," Aveline let in. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

The four of them then looked to Carver, who was staring at Athenril in deep concentration. After a moment of silence, Marian spoke up. "What do you think, Carver?"

Carver started slightly, as if waking from a trance, before he spoke. "I think we should go with the smuggler."

"Well, it's decided then," Garrett declared. "Should we go tell Meeran we are declining his offer?"

"There's no need," Marian replied. "Let the sleaze wait out here all day."

"Well, alright then. Let's go greet our new boss."

After returning to Athenril, Garrett stepped forward. "What do we need to do to prove ourselves?"

Athenril waved Garrett and Marian closer. "There's a merchant in the courtyard buying things off of refugees. We helped fund his little business venture, but now he won't give us our share. Every time we get close, he calls the guard, but he doesn't know you. You go collect what he owes, we'll get you into the city."

After a short confrontation, in which Aveline threatened to beat the weasel, the merchant Cavril handed over two sovereigns and the group returned to Athenril.

"You could've given us something a little harder," Marian quipped as she handed the elf the two gold coins.

"Well done," Athenril commented. "Send your uncle this way, and we'll make the arrangements."

Garrett and Marian nodded, leading the group away. They returned to where Gamlen and Leandra were waiting. When he noticed they were returning, Gamlen asked, "Well? How'd it go?"

Garrett shrugged. "Alright. Athenril said to get you to meet with her to make the arrangements."

"Good, good. I'll go do that now." Gamlen walked off.

"We're almost home," Leandra murmured, just loud enough for the group to hear.

"If only Wesley were here with us…" Aveline remarked.

Marian broke the awkward silence. "No more running for our lives, for at least a year, okay?"

Garrett chuckled, turning his gaze towards the city.