A/N : I am taking a break from my other Fanfic 'A Mage of The Circle'. I am not abandoning it, I have chapters written for it, but I don't find they have the flow I want them to have. So I have decided to start the second DA story that I have in mind. Also, this one is going to be much longer then my other fic. A Mage of The Circle is almost done, and has no connection to this story. This story is a separate one, it will also feature some, not all, characters from different origins being recruited at the same time. So with that said, obviously this story will not follow the games continuity entirely. I hope you still enjoy. Anything written like this, represents thoughts or time shift.

Disclaimer : I own nothing but my ideas!

"We bear a sacred burden. For an age, we have protected the lands of men. But now, a blight is upon us and we dare not falter. Regardless of race, noble or commoner. The best must take up our banner to save us all from annihilation. We are the Grey Wardens. Join us." - Duncan Warden Commander of the Fereldan Grey Wardens.

Chapter One : Origins, The Beginning

Time always seems to creep by when the lights are dim. As Keira Amell studies her book on practical healing spells, a candle flame flickers, illuminating her tiny space. The shadows of both the mage and the book dance across the cold brick wall. "I'm never going to understand all the complicated healing magics. Give me simple and quick. All this imagining the internal organs and blah blah blah. Maker, this is so not my line of interest." Leaning her chin against her palm, she licks her index finger of the opposite hand and turns the page to the ancient book, uninterested in the knowledge it has for her. "And look here, another chapter on our innards. Wonderful." She huffs. "Thank Andraste that I don't have to worry about my Harrowing anymore."

Just as she's about to continue her readings, a book is slammed down on the table just beside her elbow, causing her to jolt. "For crying out loud Jowan! Is it really that hard to warn me before you do something like that?" Her brow knits with annoyance as she balls up the material covering her heart with her fist. "One of these days, I swear, you're going to give me a heart attack!"

Grinning with satisfaction, the dark haired apprentice takes a seat just beside his long time friend. "Oh come on Keira. It was just a bit of fun. I can't help that you're so easy to sneak up on. All the time."

Still not impressed with him, Keira takes her very big, very heavy book and plops him firmly over the head with it. "What on earth was that for?" Jowan rubs at the now growing bump on the back of his cranium.

"Hey, it's not my fault that you're just so easy to smack around." She quirks. "Sides, I need someone to practice healing magics on." Keira stands and heads over to the book shelves and gently pushes the ancient book back into it's place.

"Right, I'm not letting you practice on me. I'm not your little experiment you know." Jowan continues massaging the back of his head while flipping through his own readings. "Plus I don't think that Templar standing guard in the hallway would like sensing any magic being used. Specially after hours."

Keira's eyes drift to the doorway then back to Jowan. Smirking, she waltz back over to the large study table and places her hands firmly on its surface. "Who said anything about me healing you anytime soon?" She waits for a witty come back, a joke, a snicker, something. All she can hear is silence. Odd. Her brown eyes glimpse over the item in Jowan's hands, it's a book she's never seen before. It's fairly small, almost the size of a journal. Also, it seems to be bound in a strange cover. She begins to open her mouth to ask him about the item when she hears the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Amell." Thalia Surana whispers, always the respectful one in the library. Keira had long ago decided that if anyone had asked her to describe her elven friend, that she would compare her to a dove. Soft and sweet with a voice that would spirit away any who payed too much attention to her words. Her hair and skin, as white and perfect as the first snow fall in winter. The only thing that stood out in color on this young elf was her bright blue eyes and ruby red lips. "Amell, I need to speak with you." Again she whispers signaling her friend to follow her.

"Alright. Thalia needs me..." Allowing herself one last glance over her shoulder, Amell tries to catch a glimpse of the inscriptions on the top of the page that seems to have Jowan so enthralled. "Right. I'll see you in the morning Jowan." She leaves the library without even hearing so much as a 'bye' from her friend. Shrugging her shoulders, she decides to brush off his attitude as nothing more then him sulking for when she had smacked him.

Grabbing her friend by the wrist, Thalia forcefully drags the older mage behind her to the apprentice dormitories. Checking to make sure no one is in the room, the elf sits on her bed and tugs at her friends arm. "Sit."

"What's going on?" Keira knows that something must be amiss. Surana never comes off so bossy unless something is bothering her. She watches as the younger girl plays with the ends of her long white braided hair. "Thalia?"

"My Harrowing. It's tonight." The elven girl places her hands on her knees and begins drumming her fingers, anxious. "Exciting, right?" A smile is forced to her lips, she doesn't want to seem frightened, even though she knows for certain that her friend can see through her ruse.

Taken aback, Keira begins to chew at the inside of her bottom lip, a sign of being nervous or confused that she's had since childhood. "When did you find out?"

Thalia puffs out a deep breath and begins undoing her braid. "Only just moments ago."

"You'll do just fine. And you know it. Well, I know you will." Keira tries to offer the most reassuring smile she can possible conjure.

"Right." The elf snickers. "Says the woman who's already passed her Harrowing." Thalia shakes her head, her long hair dangling in front of her face, obstructing her sincere gaze. "My apologies. I don't mean to be rude. Just nervous. I guess."

Amell nods. "Don't worry, I understand." A cool shiver runs through her veins, causing her to rub her arms, a cruel reminder of what her friend is about to face, alone. "Listen, you should rest. They'll come to escort you when it's time. Until then, you should relax, maybe even try to sleep."

Letting her head fall back and rest against her bed post, Thalia sighs. "You're right. As usual." Her eyes roam and then land on her friend. "It's just, you know...what if I don't pass?"

"You will." Amell says firmly. "I have no doubt about that what-so-ever."

Snickering, Surana rocks her head from side to side against the bed post. "You really believe that don't you?"

"Of course. You're the smartest person I know. And that's a lot coming from the second smartest person I know." Smoothing out the lines in her dress, Keira stands. "Come see me when you're done." She kisses the top of her best friends head.

"I will."

"She did it you know." Jowan is softly rocking Keira's shoulder, trying to wake her from her deep sleep. He can't help but feel a bit jealous of these two women, both younger then he, both had arrived at the tower after himself. Deep down inside he knows why, there can only be two reasons, either the higher ups have decided to make him tranquil, or have decided to put him down like a common beast. "Keira...wake up already."

Rubbing at her eyes with both her tiny fists, Keira slowly sits up. "Jowan?"

"Yes. Finally. Makers breath Keira, how do you manage to sleep to deeply?" He takes a seat at the end of her bed and cautiously keeps an eye on the door, knowing he's not suppose to be up and about after hours.

"I think it's the luxury of having my own room. The quiet does good for one who actually likes to sleep you know." She states flatly. "Now what were you going on about?"

"Thalia. She did it!" Grasping his friend by the shoulders, he pulls her to him for a tight embrace. "I'm so proud of her." He feels Amell begin to pull away.

"Really? That's wonderful news!" Clapping her hands together, she suddenly realizes that this moment is a bitter sweet for Jowan. Judging by his expression, she can clearly see his sense of lost and loneliness. "Aww. Jowan." She hugs him again. "I'm sure you'll have a room near mine or Thalia's in no time."

"Right." Patting her on the back, he pushes away and begins studying the floor. "I don't think so."

"What do you mean?" She looks at him confused, then suddenly finds her eyes following his glare, wondering what it is he is looking at. "You don't think that Irving is holding you back on purpose, do you?"

Breathing heavily through his nose, he looks again towards the door. "Why else would two women, who are younger then me, have been put through their Harrowing first then? Why else would I, someone who's been here longer then most, have yet to hear anything about my test?"

"Jowan...I...maybe you're reading into this too much." Keira can sense his anxiety. However, she knows him not to be the brightest or the fastest learner, so she's only always assumed that maybe his learning abilities is what has set him apart from the rest. She always assumed that he would catch up, eventually. But right now, looking at her friend in his moment of distress, she begins to think that maybe, something else is just...not right.

"Maybe." He pulls a few long stray hairs from his robe. "Anyways, I just thought you should know that she..."

"Apprentice." A calm voice exclaims from the corridor. "What are you doing in a mage's quarters? After hours might I add."

And just like that, he throws on his charming smile, waves to Keira and heads to the door. "Ahh...Cullen, is it? Sorry. I just had to tell my good friend here about our dear Thalia's success. I just couldn't hold news like that to myself until morning."

"Yes. Well...I-I...you better not do this again. C-consider this a warning." Keira can hear Cullen stammer.

"Right mister Templar. Good night." The only sound now is that of the fading footsteps of the apprentice mage slowly returning to his dorm.

"Miss Amell?" Cullen's voice is just beyond her door.

"Come in." With the new luxury of a door, along with a big bed, comes the bonus of having people ask if they can be granted entrance. Lifting a brow, Keira decides that this is something she could get use to, quickly.

"S-sorry to bother you. I hope he didn't wake you." The Templar Knights armor clinks as he makes his way into her room.

"He did, but that's alright. I wanted to know when she was finished." Stifling a yawn with her right fist, she begins stretching her back in almost a cat like manner. Seeing her night shift suddenly become more constricted as she moves like this, Cullen drops his gaze to his boots. "What's wrong Cullen?"

"Oh. Uh...uh n-nothing. It's j-just...well, you're in your room at night...and I should let you rest. It's late." His fingers flex and then relax and then form a fist.

Always a good judge of character, Keira knows that something is bothering him. "You were there, weren't you? At Surana's Harrowing."

He nods. "Yes. I was. Just like yours." His eyes lock with hers. "Hers didn't go as quick as yours, but s-she still did very well." Cullen's lips form a stern line and his jaw sets in with determination. "I told you once, that you could talk to me anytime. The offer still stands." Straightening his back and adjusting his stance, he continues looking at her with that same gaze. "If there's something wrong..."

Keira blinks and quickly tries to correct him. "No, no. Nothing like that...it's just..." She tries to organize her thoughts. "You know what. When I know more, for sure I'll come and talk to you. Alright?"

Mulling over this idea for the moment, he nods his agreement. "Alright." Rubbing at his brown, he allows his shoulders to relax. "B-but you have to tell your friend that he can't just wonder around now that he's got two friends that are full appointed mages." Damn, why on earth could he never be stern with her? He was with everyone else.

"Yes Ser." Pulling her covers up to her chin, she settles back into her bed. "Cullen, could you leave the door open a crack please?" Growing up in dorms all your life had some disadvantages, like getting use to people studying by candle light in the dark. Now that she had her own room, she suddenly found it confining and maybe, just maybe, a bit scary.

"I-I'm not suppose to..." He stops mid sentence, seeing her brown eyes peer at him from the edge of her blanket, how could he deny her that one comfort. "Fine, but it's only for while I'm on shift. M-my post is right here, so I can watch your door." He sighs, letting his shoulders drop even further, from defeat. Damn mage.

"Thanks. I swear I won't tell anyone." Turning under her covers, she places herself so that her back is to the wall. The Templar leaves her room and arranges the door so that just a small beam of light is entering her room.

Standing on the opposite side of the hall, Cullen can see through the crack he'd left open. The small beam of light cascades down across the floor, up onto apart of the wood frame bed and then just across the tired mage's face. He can't help but let his eyes lock with that of Amell's, the little frightened mage, all curled up under her bedding. Her fists have the covers balled up at her mouth, and her eyes peer out at him. Cullen continues to hold his gaze and does so late into the night until she finally falls asleep.

"He wants us to do what?" Amell paces in her room. Thalia remains seated on the bed, her hands folded in her lap and her head hanging low. "I mean, how could he even ask this of us?"

The muscles in her jaw ache, clenching in anger does tend to do that. Her hands, now balled up into fists, shake at her side, either from shear shock or anger, she can't decide. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she rubs her tiny hands over her face and then rubs her brow. "And a with a Lay Sister?" Keira looks to her elven friend at that moment. For years, Thalia has had growing affections for Jowan, and has only ever shared this precious information with Amell. "He truly can't see what's right in front of him. I'm sorry."

Shrugging her shoulders and playing with a fraying end on her sleeve, Surana blows a stray strand of hair from her view. "There's nothing to be sorry for. He has feelings for another, nothing could prevent that."

"I understand..." Keira sits on the bed, next to her friend. "But a Lay Sister? Come on...The First Enchanter must know of this. It has to be the reason he hasn't gone through his Harrowing yet."

"Do you think we should speak with Irving?" Thalia looks to the older mage for answers.

"I...I think it's the only option. We can't possibly help him escape and hope for the best. Our phylacteries have been sent to Denerim. What does he think will happen to us? If we were to leave with him, the Templars would track us down and we could be sent to Aeonar or made Tranquil... We would be punished, severely." Amell grips at the bedding, anxious. "If we don't help him, any of these things could happen to him..."

"What if we try to convince him to just..."Surana begins.

"To what? Break off his relationship with the Sister?" Keira snorts. "Right...you know how stubborn he can get. I don't see him backing down from this." The mage places her face in her palms, trying to think of something clever. Anything.

Thalia stands, crosses her arms and stares firmly at her friend. "Well I can't just do nothing. I can't just stand by."

"I know." Sighing, Keira begins to explain the only thing she can think of. "I think I should talk with Irving."

"We did it! I can't believe it!" Jowan embraces his two friends in a tight hug. "Thank-you." He lets out a heavy sigh. Smiling warmly, Jowan takes Lily's hand into his own. Both prepared to take on the final task of escaping the tower. "We couldn't of..." Hearing the clamor of armor and foot steps, Jowan glimpses over his shoulder to see Greagoir, Irving and a handful of Templar Knights.

"So what you've said is true, Irving." The Knight Commander studies the group. His eyes drift from the two female mages, to Jowan and Lily.

"Greagoir..." Lily begins to back away. Jowan side steps to put himself between his lover and the Templar Commander.

Greagoir blinks slowly, while shaking his head in disappointment. "An Initiate conspiring with a blood mage. I'm disappointed in you." Staring at the Lay Sisters face, he notices something. "She seems shocked, but fully in control of her own mind. Not a thrall of the blood mage then. You were right Irving." Breathing deeply, the Commander shifts the weight of his body. "The initiate has betrayed us, the Chantry will not let this go unpunished." Then his icy stare returns to the two female mages. "And these two, newly appointed mages, and already flouting the rules of the Circle."

Jowan musters up what courage he has and takes a step forward. "None of this is any of their faults. This was all my idea."

"These two women are here under my orders, Greagoir. I take full responsibility for their actions." Irving, tries to explain to his long time friend and guard.

Confused, Jowan backs away from his two former friends. "Wait...you...you lead us into a trap?" His eyes dance between the two mages before him. "Why?"

Keira is the one to speak up, her anger now boiling over. "What did you expect? The chantry has our phylacteries. Did you honestly expect that me and Thalia could ever live a normal life out there? You didn't even think of asking us if we wanted to leave our home! This is all we've ever known Jowan!"

"Don't you dare speak to me!" Jowan hisses out while pointing an angry finger at her.

"Enough!" Greagoir commands. "As Knight Commander of the templars here assembled, I sentence this blood mage to death."

Thalia and Lily both gasp. Keira covers her mouth in shock. She knew the penalties for trying to escape were harsh, but death. "Blood mage?" Keira whispers, now at a lost.

Ignoring the shock of the tiny group, Greagoir signals for his troops to retrieve the Sister. "And this initiate has scorned the Chantry and her vows. Take her to Aeonar."
The templars move around their Commanding officer and begin to make their way for Lily.

The Lay Sister can feel all the blood leave her face, her knees begin to feel weak and her vision begins to grow fuzzy. "The...the mage's prison. No...please, not there." Bringing a hand to her temple, she starts to feel faint.

Glowering at the Knights before him from under his brow, Jowan reaches in his side pocket and pulls out a small dagger. "NO! I won't let you touch her!" Slamming the blade down into his palm, Jowan begins resiting an incantation. Tossing the blade aside he begins assaulting all those in his path. The templars are tossed like rag dolls to the side. Irving and Greagoir are knocked to the ground, unconscious.

Breathing deeply, Jowan straightens his posture and makes his way to Lily. Panting, he holds out his hand to her and waits for her to accept it. To his surprise, she recoils from him. "By the Maker...blood magic! H-how could you? You said you never..." She stares at him, a thing now foreign.

Now beyond frustration, Jowan paces. Could this really be happening? Now? "Alright. I admit I,...I dabbled! I thought it would make me a better mage!"

Lily continues to back away slowly. "Blood magic is evil, Jowan. It corrupts people...changes them..."

Agitated knowing they are running out of time, he quickly walks over to her and grabs hold of her hand. The Lay Sister roughly pulls away. "I'm going to give it all up. All magic. I just want to be with you, Lily. Now please, come with me..." He pleads.

Tears leave tracks down her cheeks as they run from her eyes. Realization setting in, she now knows that she has tossed her life carelessly aside, for a blood mage. "I trusted you. I was ready to sacrifice everything for you." She turns from him, hugging her own arms, hoping to find some kind of comfort. "I...I don't know who you are, blood mage. Stay way from me."

Devastated and lost, Jowan allows himself one last look at his former friends and lover. Quickly, he takes the moment of opportunity to flee, turning swiftly on his heal and heading for the main doors. The echo of the rain falling outside is the last thing heard as the massive doors open and the apprentice runs from the tower.

As soon as the blood mage is gone, Keira begins checking the vitals on all the men. She finally makes her way to Irving, who's beginning to sit up. Holding him by the elbow, Amell helps the elderly man come to a full stand. "Are you alright? Where's Greagoir?"

The Knight Commander pushes himself up off the floor without ease. "I knew it...blood magic. But to overcome so many...I never thought him capable of such power." He allows himself to glances around the room quickly, to make sure all of his Knights are alive.

The First Enchanter pats the tiny hand on his arm, reassuring the young mage that he's alright. "None of us expected this. Are you alright, Greagoir?"

The Commander's brow lowers in frustration. "As good as can be expected given the circumstances!" He places his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, unable to believe the current situation. "If you would have let me act sooner, this wouldn't have happened! Now we have a blood mage on the loose and no way to track him down!" No longer wanting to talk with Irving at the moment, Greagoir tries to focus his attentions else where. "Where is the girl?"

Leaving the comfort of the darkness, Lily steps forward. "I...I am here, ser."

"You helped a damned blood mage! Look all that he has hurt!" The Knight Commander stands with his arms spread out, trying to express the shear magnitude of the matter at hand.

Ashamed, Lily bows her head, her face still void of any color. "I...I will accept any punishment you see fit. Even Aeonor."

"Get her out of my sight!" He nods to two of his templars, and they quickly escort the Sister out of the area. Still angered, Greagoir fixes Amell with a stern look. "And you two! You were in a repository full of magics that's locked away for a reason!"

"Did you take anything important from the repository?" Irving asks. Is he serious? Keira finds herself a bit insulted by the question. She's fairly certain that she had more important things on her mind then stealing.

"No. First Echanter...I..." Keira can hear her elven friend step forward.

"Actually, I took this. First Enchanter." Thalia hands a grunting Irving a staff.

"Shall we add thievery to your..."

"I took it." Amell lies, knowing the punishment for this might be sever, but doesn't want Thalia to face it. I don't think she could handle it, sorry, please forgive me for this fib my friend. Keira tries to plead with her eyes. Thalia please keep quiet about this, you can berate me about it later.

"Your antics have made a mockery of this circle! Ah...what are we to do with you? You helped a blood mage escape, broke into the phylactery chamber, which is forbidden to all, save for Irving and myself. And to add to your list of misguided notions, you stole from the repository!" Greagoir is looking to punish someone. A blood mage gone, the repository broken into. Someone needs to pay.

"I was only following orders. However, the staff I took and I forced Surana to come along, I didn't want to go alone. These are things that were not instructed of me to do. I'm sorry, ser." Amell holds her head high, awaiting any punishment he deems worthy.

"Alright. Fine. You are to be escorted to the dungeons, there you will await my decision regarding your punishment. However, I'm starting to think that twenty lashes or a month in confinement might be suffice." Greagoir contemplates while rubbing the hair on his chin.

"Greagoir, as I said, they were following my instructions." Irving begins to argue.

"Listen Irving, you're not all-knowing. There's no way you could have known how far that blood mage's influence might have had. You're lucky I'm only punishing one of your mages." The Knight Commander tuns his back on the Enchanter and begins leaving the area. "Bring Amell downstairs and await my instructions. I will send a senior Knight when I've made up my mind."

It's cold, damp and dark down here, clad in nothing more then a beige garb, Keira shivers. The only warmth coming from a torch on the wall, she stares at it, hoping that Greagoir will send someone down here soon with word of her punishment. Although, not looking forward to what he might have planned for her, she'd rather have it done with already, then to sit here and imagine what he could have in store for her, that in itself seems disciplinary enough. For the pas six hours, her only form of company have been two of the templars that had been tossed around by Jowan. Two templars, who are becoming more anxious and bored by the minute. That's never a good sign. Never.

The Knight that still has his helm on, rises from the bench that he'd been sitting on and stretches. "That's it." His voice echoes behind the confines of his helmet. "Let's just do this. He said twenty lashes right? That's probably what she's going to get. Lets just get this over with." He makes his way towards the little frighten mage and pulls her by her restrained wrists.

The dark haired Templar that had been leaning against the wall sighs. "You know we can't do anything until the Commander says otherwise, or we could be the ones receiving his wrath."

"What's the worse that can happen? He gets all huffy puffy because we bruised up a mage?" The templar removes his helmet to reveal a shiny bald head and a scar that runs along the side of his face. Tugging roughly on her chains, the Knight raises her arms to meet a hook dangling from a thicker chain falling from the ceiling. After her restraints are secure, he makes his way to a crank, gives it a few turns and Keira's feet are no longer touching the ground. Staring down at the cobble stone beneath her now dangling feet, she swallows back a lump of alarm. Deep breaths. She reminds herself while closing her eye lids firmly. Deep breaths.

The bald templar is fiddling with something in the background. Amell tries to look past one of her arms to get a better look at what he is doing, but to no avail. Focusing now on that same torch light, she tries not to pay any attention to the now burning sensation in her shoulders and arms. Deep breaths Amell. Inhaling from her nose and slowly letting the exhale escape past her lips, she tries to slow the beating of her heart, it's pounding under her rib cage and she's almost positive that her two guards can hear it.

"Alright mage." The bald Knight is inches away from her nose. "I'm gonna start with five lashes, then we will see how you're doing. Hopefully, you don't pass out right away, that would just ruin the game. Wouldn't it?" Now whispering so low only she can hear, he inches closer to her ear. "And if you're a good girl, maybe I'll give you a break." Keira can feel him take in her sent as he ducks his face in by the crook of her neck and shoulder. "Well, sort of."

"I want no part in this." The dark haired templar shakes his head and begins to leave the dungeons.

"Fine, but you're going to miss out!" The scarred templar nods, smirking to his comrade.

"I'll get over it...I'm sure." The other man locks the door behind him and heads down the corridor to take a seat on a stool.

Rolling his eyes in excitement, the templar before her licks his lips. "Right then." He steadies her form by sliding his hands down her curves and makes his way behind her. Keira's eyes grow wide as she makes out the sounds of leather and metal grazing the stone floor. Bringing her attention back to the torch once more, she waits. Her muscles tense with the dread of anticipating the first blow. Clinks of the armor behind her is the only hint of the on coming blow. There's a snap, and she gasps. Her eyes are flooded with tears of pain, her teeth grit together as she attempts to not cry out in pain. Another snap, another lash. Each time the same. She gasps, and her body burns with the ache of the abuse her back is being exposed to. Only five lashes, but Maker how it feels like fifty. How she wishes that she was going to receive fifty instead of what she knows is coming next.

Bear hands touch her bloodied and broken skin. Amell can feel her auburn hair tangle up at the small of her back, mixing with the sweat and the blood. "You know, I think you're quite tame now. Don't you?" The Knight raises her chin with his finger and thumb. Her head just lulls to the side, too weak to fight back. Seeing her so frail, the templar grabs a fist full of her hair, pulls her head back and kisses her hard. Keira struggles against his weight, trying to turn her face, but nothing works. Pulling away from her face, he trails nips and kiss to her shoulder. Grabbing a handful of her breast, his other hand presses against her back forcing her body to push up against his own. "Hmm, but as it seems...not tame enough."

The massive man rounds her again and lays on another five lashes. This time she's completely spent. Too tired and broken to care to even try to keep her eye lids open. The mage's ears can hear footsteps, a shuffle. The templar lets out a puff of air, and then there's a distinct metal on metal sound. Suddenly, her chains go slack and her body crashes to the ground. Dragging her by her cuffs, he hoists her up onto a large wooden torture table. The bald man pushes off all the left over equipment from the table to the floor. The metal and wooden objects send out a loud clatter of noise. Keira's long slender legs dangle over the side of the table, as she tries to concentrate on regaining some sort of coordination. Her eyes almost roll to the back of her skull when the Knight slams her down viciously into the wood grain.

His hands snake behind her knees, pulling her frame forward so that her legs wrap around his waist. "Now don't move, little mage." Rough, dry hands clasp gently onto her thighs and slowly make their way up, and then back down to her knees again. Bending forward, he takes in a deep breath, letting the sent of the skin at her neck take him over. His blue eyes grow dark, he grabs hold of her chained hands and locks them in a hook above her head on the table. "Remember, don't move."

Even if Keira wanted to struggle, it's not like she could. Barely able to stay conscious as it is, she can hardly register what's actually going on. "What..." She actually manages to form.

The bald templar removes his sash and relieves the mage of her under clothes with the help of his small knife. He moves his one hand to his cod piece and begins to ready himself for this new task. Just as he's about to press himself into the woman beneath him to relieve himself of the growing urges in his loins, the door flies open to reveal a very upset Cullen. The aroused templar's face in very quickly, very harshly introduced to Cullen's steel right gauntlet. The ferocious punch sends the bald man crashing to the ground, with several of his teeth breaking off and shattering onto the stone floor.

Cullen is fairly certain that he has broken the other man's nose, and very possibly his jaw. Allowing his anger to subside, he unlocks the shackled Amell, covers her with a discarded sheet and lifts her into his arms. The sudden movements seem to be a little too much for the battered mage and she passes out. The templar can feel a growl in his throat when he notices the blood that's staining the wood of the table. Looking to the woman in his arms, he takes in a breath of disbelief.

"By the Maker. What happened here?" Greagoir studies the scene. One templar, half dressed, sprawled out on the ground, another, he passed in the hall, and Cullen. His grey eyes land on the figure in the young man's arms. "By Andraste...what did he do...?"

"I told him to wait for orders, but he wouldn't listen to me, ser." The dark haired Templar tries to explain.

The Knight Commander looks to this troop stunned. "So instead, you let him carry out whatever it is he wishes while turning a blind eye? Why didn't you report to me?" The young man tries to justify his actions, but only stammers. "Whatever the reason, it's not good enough. You are to report to my office at once! I will deal with you later."

"Greagoir, this is exactly the type of treatment I've been telling you about for years. The mages in this tower are not safe with templars such as this roaming the halls." Irving juts out his chin in the direction of the bald templar.

"And what would you have me do, Irving?" Greagoir throws his hands in the air. "I can't turn down every Templar that comes through these doors. It's not like we have a list of Knights fighting to get in here. We need all those who choose to come here or who are shipped here. All I can do is try to keep the peace."

Letting a long exhale leave his nostrils, Irving places a hand on Amell's forehead. "Ah...Greagoir, you must see that keeping the peace is no longer doing anyone any good."

"I might have a suggestion." Comes a throaty voice from the darkness of the corridor.

Greagoir is at his limit of patience. Not only is this Grey Warden, Duncan, taking the two mages involved in the escape of the blood mage, but now he's also recruiting his top Templar Knight, Cullen. Perfect. "So you are taking two mages and one of my best men. Tell me, ser, how is this suppose to help the Circle."

Tired, Duncan sips at the water from his glass. "You said the tower was better off without trouble makers, such as Amell and Surana. I only see it fit that since I came here looking for mages to help fight against the blight, that I take those you deem no longer worthy to be here. Then you also expressed concern of having Circle mages running around Ferelden unguarded. I mentioned that I have someone who has experience in the art of being a Templar. You then expressed great disdain with this and made it very clear that you did not think it possible for one Templar to keep track of two mages. As I am also in need of warriors and skilled fighters, having a second Templar in our ranks, seems only to be a wise choice." The Commander of the Grey tries to offer a polite smile.

Greagoir is unconvinced. "So you take my best Knight? Unacceptable."

"I'm only looking for the best, the most dedicated. He seems to be just that, wouldn't you agree?" Duncan raises a brow in the Knight Commanders direction. "Fighting darkspawn requires great skill."

"I'm not allowing this. You can have the mages, but you are not taking any of my men. We are short staffed here as it is." Greagoir slams his fists on the top of his bureau.

"Be that as it may, the Chantry could always send you more Templar Knights. Besides, Knight Commander, the young man has accepted my offer and I'm using the Right of Conscription." Duncan places his now empty glass gently onto the desk, his eyes never leave those of Knight Commander.

"You wouldn't dare!" Greagoir shouts, shocked.

"I'm afraid you leave me no other choice." Duncan stands from his chair, bows sincerely to his host and then clears his throat. "We are leaving in two days time. That is when your senior healer, Wynne, said that Amell would be fit to travel. If I were you, I would use that time to send a letter to the Chantry requesting more Templars."

"Alright, Thalia. I think you've fit everything possible into that bag." Amell studies her now very packed satchel and back pack. She knows that her friend is just trying to over compensate. "Thalia, sweety please, go get your stuff ready. I'm sure you're probably forgetting something." Keira places a hand on her elven friends shoulder.

"Fine, fine." Surana heads to her room, a place she had only been able to actually spend the night in three times. She sighs to herself, knowing that it's her fault that they are forced to leave their home, that it's her fault Keira...Can't think of that. She sniffles, dabs at her moisten eyes with her scarf and begins the task of sorting her things. The young elf comes across a ruin, a gift she had received from Jowan one year for her birthday. Anger building in her gut, she tosses the stone against the wall and it shatters. Thank the Maker Cullen had arrived before that Templar could...Stop thinking of these things! She places her poultice bags on her hip, her pack on her back and grabs her staff. Taking one last longing look at her new appointed room, she heaves a heavy sigh and heads back to Amell's quarters.

"All set?" Keira chirps cheerfully. Thalia nods, faking a smile. "Good. We're to meet up with Cullen and Duncan in the main hall."

The two women make their way down the winding steps and find Irving, Cullen and Duncan waiting for them. To their surprise, Cullen no longer adorns his Templar uniform, instead he's dressed in a simple beige tunic, brown slacks and leather boots. Keira gawks and Thalia's eyes grow big. Both are a bit stunned.

Trying to avoid their stares and blushing a bit, Cullen clears his throat. "What?"

Keira blinks a few times. "Oh, uhm nothing. We've just never seen you without your Templar armor." She laughs. "And you're still pretty intimidating." He knows she's referring to his actual height and seize, and not his demeanor. These comments only fuel the color of his reddened face and he's forced to busy himself to try and cover his obvious embarrassment.

"We will be supplying in a near by town. I have already made arrangements there with a friend to supply us with proper armor and garments." Duncan informs his new recruits.

Thalia mouths the word. 'Oh'

Irving hugs each of the female mages. "We will all miss you both. The tower won't quite be the same without you two around." He places a hand on each of their faces, and looks upon them as a loving father would onto two daughters that he cherishes. "I for one will find it strange here without your presence. But enough about me, this is a great opportunity for those of youth." The two women return his embrace with one of their own.

"As for you." The First Enchanter stands in front of Cullen, with his hands firmly clasped behind his back. "You've already proven that you can protect them. But know that I expect no less. Continue to protect them, but do not govern them. They are no longer the concerns of the Chantry and you are no longer that which enforces Chantry law. Do you understand?" Irving awaits his answer patiently.

"I do." Cullen nods. "I will protect them, until my last breath, First Enchanter." He answers honestly and bows his head in respect.

"Good. I'll hold you to that." The old man winks and walks away.

Cullen looks longingly to the tower steps, hoping that Greagoir, a man who had been like a father to him, would at least show to see him off. Seeing that the only thing in the area is darkness and nothing more, Cullen allows his shoulders to slump as he begins to follow the group.

"Cullen." A serious voice booms behind the former Templar, and for just a moment, Cullen can actually feel his heart fill with what he assumes is relief and happiness. Greagoir waves his former Knight over. Smiling, Cullen jogs over to his former Commanding officer, who places an arm around his shoulder and begins talking in a very low voice. "Listen. I don't like any of this. I'm glad to know that I will have someone such as yourself keeping an eye on those mages. If any of them so much as show a sign of corruption, you strike them down. Remember your vows, Knight. Do you understand?"

Cullen's smile fades and he must be showing his inner struggle, because Greagoir is glaring into his eyes. "You must do this! You're part of the order, a brother in arms." Greagoir grabs Cullen by the left wrist and yanks up the material there to reveal a black tattooed Sword of Andraste on his forearm. "I know that Irving probably forced you to make some sort of ridiculous promise. And I know that you're a man of your word, but remember your allegiance is here, with us, with the Chantry. Above all, this is what matters." Greagoir waits, patiently staring at his former Knight.

Nodding, Cullen's heart sinks. Not only is he fighting an inner battle, but now he knows that eventually he'll have to make a choice. "There's a good lad." Greagoir pats the young man on the back. "Do remember, there's always a place for you here." This is not the goodbye he was hoping for, specially from someone he looked up to as a father figure. After all, what was he expecting? A heart felt talk? A hug? No. However, a 'take care of yourself' would have been nice, he concludes. Now more depressed then when he was originally taking his leave, Cullen slumps his shoulders even further and doesn't look back this time. He knows The Knight Commander is watching them all climb into the boat, but for some reason, Cullen could care less. Deep down inside, he knows that he's nothing more then a soldier to this man, his mentor, and nothing more. For the first time in his life, Cullen feels a bit jealous of the two mages in the boat with him. Jealous at the fact that they are probably actually cared for. That Irving is probably sincere in wanting no harm to come to them. And for this, Cullen concludes, he'll protect both these women, even if it means he won't survive. His brown eyes dart from one young woman to the next, they are both staring off in the distance, calmly awaiting the shore line, something they've never seen before.

So it begins. Duncan exhales, deep in thought, enjoying the fresh air. "We make way for Redcliffe village, then we are heading for Highever." Duncan informs his recruits and then turns his attention to the lake, waiting patiently to see the shore.