A/N- This is just a short insight to events that are happening with Lawrence. I think it was about time that we were introduced to this honorable man. -insert heavy sarcasm-

Interlude 1:

A Piece of the Plan

A man dressed in freshly cleaned leathers stood at attention in front of a large, luxuriously decorated wooden table that was placed strategically in front of a stone fireplace. The fire crackled harshly, it's light stretched out to illuminate the royal blue papered walls. The fire cast a shadow on the man's face, sharpening his features. His sharp blue-silver eyes stared at the door across the room, as if he could will it to open. His lip, which was partially covered by a hastily trimmed dirty-blonde beard and mustache, twitched in annoyance. He had arranged this meeting a week prior, giving plenty of time for the magister to prepare.

Now, his patience was wearing thin, especially as all he could focus on was the pacing feet of two of the men he had brought with him. Just as he thought he was going to snap and throw a dagger at one of the young boys that was irritating him so, the door opened with a loud creak. Immediately, the pacing halted. A tall, stern looking man entered the room. He waved his hand, lighting the torches that lined the walls to bring more light into the dark and dreary room. Even with the added light, it was still no more cheery than it was before. There were no windows, in yet a cool draft always seemed to shift through the paper-lined stone walls. The floors held a gleam, as if the slaves that lined the desolate corridors throughout the mansion worked until their fingers bled to wax them daily.

The magister wore a dark grey robe, matching the mop of hair on his head and his poorly kept beard. The distaste he showed for this whole meeting was clear on his face. A small, bone thin slave in torn clothing followed behind him, carrying what appeared to be a bottle of wine and two glasses. The magister's voice was cool and calm as he gestured his hand to the cushioned chairs. "Join me for a drink." The dirty haired man sat down as gracefully as he could, but still managed to scrape the chair against the floor as his weight hit the chair. The magister joined him as the slave carefully uncorked the bottle of Tevinter wine.

The magister took his glass, smelling the red liquid and smiled in a way that was foreign to his face. "Aggregio Pavali. 9:29 vintage. Not as old as I like it, but it has it's charms." The magister took a small sip and swirled the glass in his hands.

The other man took a large gulp of the wine, placing the glass back on the table as the slave retreated away hastily. "I'm not here to talk about wine, Magister Danarius. I'm here to talk about our deal."

Danarius chuckled darkly, his dark eyes staring into the fire. The flames swirled about as if they were dancing just for him. "Now, now, Lawrence. Last you told me, all the pieces were falling into place. Your man is close to her now as we speak. The ship blowing up is delaying their progress so we may have better control on where they go. I was even able to pay off the local farm holders to release their horses into the wild. What more could you possibly have to tell me?"

Lawrence shifted in his seat uneasily. He took another large sip of the wine, the sweet but tart juices caressing his tongue. He let out a ragged breath as he placed the empty glass back on the table. "It seems that there are some… unexpected allies to Jezebel's cause."

The magister grunted, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I thought you took care of all the loose ends." His words were harsh, and Lawrence flinched at his emphasis on how much pressure he put on him.

"I was led to believe I did. No one would have been able to survive those poisons that we laced their water with. I'm not even entirely sure that these are the same people that we are dealing with."

Danarius held his hands up to chin level and tapped them against them methodically. A small spark weaved between his fingers as he nodded to himself. "If these are not the same people, then why would they worry you so much? Why arrange a meeting with me at all when that information could have been sent by messenger?"

"Because," Lawrence cleared his throat, suddenly having a dry feeling, "one of the men that were with them has been spotted off of the coast of Bastion on a small ship."

"And?" The spark grew and spun around Danarius' hand faster as his impatience flared.

"And… the reports say that there is a strange looking elf with him. At first I thought nothing of this because the man himself is a strange looking elf, but then I read how the companion seemed to glow when he was angry; or more specifically, his tattoos began glowing. I think your slave is in league with these conspirators."

The spark dissipated as Danarius slammed his hand down on the arm of the chair. He gripped the wood tightly, as if he was about to set it aflame. Lawrence shook his leg in angst, wondering if he should move in case of any unexpected explosion from the magister. He hated magic. Always had. He only tolerated it because it proved useful during his reign as the leader of Umbra Et Vulpes. Lawrence despised the allegiance that he had formed with the magister. He would have stuck an arrow through his neck the minute the man had first approached him with the offer, but it proved too much as a good opportunity. And Lawrence could never refuse a good opportunity. Danarius pushed himself up and walked towards the fire. His back was to Lawrence as he spoke. "And your men did not try to capture my little wolf?"

Lawrence shook his head solemnly. "No. We didn't want to interfere. It's too soon-"

Danarius whipped around, a white magical flame growing around his clenched fist. "Didn't want to interfere? I have invested much of my time, money and influences in this hopeless task of yours." Lawrence went to speak but quickly clapped his mouth shut as the flame grew. "I have done nothing but give you whatever you wished for. All I asked in return was your services in capturing Fenris. You should be lucky I was even giving you this chance after the little stunt that you pulled years ago that made me lose him in the first place."

Lawrence straightened in his seat, nodding his head curtly. "I understand this and I appreciate your efforts. I have a suspicion that if we continue how we are, both Jezebel and Fenris will fall into our laps as planned. Your slave being there will change nothing about our hold on the situation."

The flame went out as Danarius let out a low, grumbling chuckle. "You underestimate him. It was not just simple luck that made him evade recapture all these years and not just a coincidence that Hadriana was found with her heart crushed, Lawrence." He waved his hand to him, and Lawrence stood up from his chair. "Go. Continue on with your little plan. But if you screw up one more time, if one thing fails to fall into place… I will show you why my slaves are the most orderly in all of Minrathous."

Lawrence sneered as he bowed slightly to the magister and turned away. Orderly? I don't recall them being so orderly when you fretted about how your most precious one got away. He feared the man too much to say this out-loud. He would take his anger out on his men later, he decided. The small slave ran to the door and opened it for him. He didn't even bother to see if his men were following him as he stomped out of the crumbling manor.

He made his way to a group of men and horses that were standing in front of a rusting gate. He looked over to a figure in a black cloak that stood out among the men in green. The figure trotted their horse over to Lawrence as he climbed upon his own dark brown steed. The gates creaked open as two of his men pushed them open, revealing a long broken cobble path back down to the rotting city. The figures horse stopped next to his as they turned the horses heads to face the path. Lawrence sighed, looking at the figure as they pulled down their hood, revealing dark red hair that waved and curled down to her shoulders. Her jaw was set in a fine line as she looked over to Lawrence, her steel blue eyes searching his face.

Lawrence nodded his head once to her. "You will do as our contract said. I expect no complications from someone as highly recommended as you are. Unfortunately, there have been some changes that I need you to deal with."

The woman smirked lightly, her voice thick in an Orlesian accent. "This will cause my rate to go higher, you realize this, yes?"

Lawrence scowled. "Yes."

Their horses began trotting down the path as the group moved forward. "Then what do you wish me to do?"

He looked out onto the horizon, admiring how the gleaming night sky fell in complete contrast to the hole that was Minrathous. "I need you to do what Bards do best. There is a man who I thought I killed a while back interfering with our plans. Gain his trust, make him believe you are his ally."

"And what would you have me do when this is done?"

Lawrence smiled, his eyes twinkling with the thrill of his scheme. "Cut out the runes from his flesh and bring them to me along with his heart. This man has caused me too much trouble for me to take this lightly."

The Bards face grew solemn as she closed her eyes and bowed her head. She lifted it shortly after praying silently to the Maker for forgiveness. "May I know the name of this man?"

"Jaiden Naphtali. You will find him on the outskirts of Rialto. Ride fast, for I don't know how long he will linger."

The Bard turned her horse off the trail, ready to head south to a boat that would bring her east. As her horse began a steady trot, Lawrence spoke once more. "You better not fail me, Lacey. Or it shall be your heart that I seek to have in my fire."

Lacey did not respond to this, merely leaned forward and tightened her feet to the steed, causing it to go at an alarming speed. She rode off, pulling her hood back up, as she went to seek her target.