Hawke and Fenris finally made it to an outskirt village of Starkhaven via horseback.

  A stark evening sky loomed over their heads with cumulating clouds threatening to overwhelm them with rain at any time. Hawke shivered as he felt a foreboding energy lingering in the air: a heightened and pending feeling of something drastic to come.

  Fenris sat in his saddle with his expression more than his usual brooding. He caught distrustful gazes from farmhands and common, dirt-stained, scruffy workers as they trotted past them on dirt roads. Their reaction to the sight of him was a retreat indoors or a scurried walk away.

  "I know the people along the Minantor river aren't elven fans, but the way they're obviously running off like you're bringing in the plague is alarming, " Hawke whispered, observing the people's attention toward Fenris.

  Fenris flipped up his soft hood from his travel cloak.

  They continued to trot toward the lone and rundown tavern where the only horses tethered to a trough were theirs. Stern and scruffy bearded men watched their entrance with great scrutiny.

  The lively noise suddenly eased as people at tables caught sight of Fenris. Suspicion was a strong and stifling feeling.

  Fenris stood silently behind Hawke who approached the wrinkly-faced barwoman cleaning glasses with a dirt-stained rag.

  "We serve no elf. Leave," she said to Fenris, not making any excuses for her rudeness.

  Fenris nodded and calmly stepped outside to stand with the horses. Even they seemed on edge, stamping their hooves with mild agitation. He calmed them down with soothing whispers in tevene.

  "Well, I don't think we'll be getting a greeting cheer from them anytime soon." Hawke nervously joked as he shoved the goods he had purchased in their saddle bags.

  They were keen to be out of the village and make haste for Kirkwall, resuming their horseback riding but didn't get as far as the village gate when they were blocked by a squad of patrol guards.

  "What did I say? Them knife-ears always the cause of no good," said a scrappy-looking guard wearing a metal helmet that glinted in the moonlight. His potbelly was making a sizable bulge in his chainmail tunic and chest plate showing the heraldry of a stagbeetle. Some minor lord's thugs.

  Four other similarly dressed thugs came up at the guard's rear, their gauntlet hands resting on the pommels of their longswords.

  "We just arrived here good sers," Hawke said.

  "You maybe." The guard unsheathed his saw and pointed it at Fenris. "Him, he's got a nice bounty for his head. Get him boys!"

  Hawke's leg brushed his horse into a gallop as he rushed for the oncoming guards. He raised the blunt side of his dagger, angled his body to the side and dangerously low as his horse kept moving. With a scooping motion, he knocked the guard in the head by the chin with his dagger. The angled blow saw him tumble backward and become unconscious. He righted himself and maneuvered his horse around to face the other guards.

  Fenris reined in his horse. He swiftly moved off it to knock out the oncoming guards until only one remained. This guard was young and likely fresh to the duty. His legs were shaking with fear. He dropped to his knees with pitiful pleas.

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  Hawke and Fenris calmly approached the babbling nervous wreck of a guard. Hawke shook his head at the slightly longer length of the cuffs and how the chainmail was loose around his arms. The boy's uniform was definitely borrowed.

  "I said he was wrong, I did." The boy rambled.

  "Who was wrong?"

  "Him, we's work for Lord Milton who told us to take the head of any elves with markings. A bounty is for all you Dalish elves."

  Fenris huffed and flipped off his hood. "Do I look Dalish to you?"

  The guard's whimpering was louder as he felt the man's glare on his face like it was burning him. "You have markings, so thought..."

  "Why is Lord Milton wanting to kill the Dalish?" Hawke asked more levely.

  "Cause dem work for Vints who steal children. Make monsters they do." He looked up with his nervous begging. "Don't make me a monster. I have gold. I have..."

  "I'd rather you didn't wet your pants in front of me." Hawke sighed and let the man go with a warning. "If any of your guards try to hurt my man again, you're dead."

  The guard scrambled away as fast as he could.

  "We better tell Anri." Fenris suggested.

  They decided to setup camp in an out-of-the-way site and found a spot high on a hill and in some shack ruins that stank of sheep piss. At least, it would mask their scent to keep unwanted attention away.

  Hawke made contact with Anri, looping Fenris in on the ravensky call.

  "Hawke."

  "Anri. Just arrived in the Free Marches and the most interesting thing happened."

  "Oh?"

  "Some Lord Milton has a bounty out for the Dalish. The people along the river are a prickly Chantry bunch, so they've always been at odds with your clans. But the timing of the bounty..."

  Hawke and Fenris stared at each other when they detected a pause from Anri.

  "Sorry, it's a bit chaotic here right now."

  They felt strong tension and worry coming through the call.

  "What's going on Anri?"

  "Wycome is preparing defenses for an assault from Starkhaven. They think we're housing a venatori operation and have declared us dangerous heretics."

  "Something that involves Dalish stealing children and turning them into monsters?" Hawke added.

  Anri looped Dorian and Dennerisan into the call.

  "What's going on?" Dorian asked.

  Hawke and Fenris filled them in.

  "We should have Rector do some digging into this Lord Milton." Dorian made a mental note to give the spymaster the task after the call.

  "So we have a lord who is got it out for the Dalish and Wycome is about to face a decimation. Is anyone else connecting the dots here or is it just me?" Hawke commented.

  "It's not the first time the venatori has stirred the nobility against us. I'm not surprised they'll try again." Anri added.

  "Doing it now is probably because of Ash Hills." Fenris coolly hypothesized.

  "No doubt."

  "What do you want us to do?" Hawke asked.

  "Dorian?" Anri prompted him for his input.

  "Varric is here. It would be best to return to Kirkwall in case your little guard captain gets over her head with a surge of visiting mages keen to redecorate the city with blood. From what I gather, the Gallow Templars are more like a bunch of Boy Scouts these days. If the static rifts lingering in that area become active, you guys know how to handle them."

  "Do you think they'll strike against Kirkwall?" Hawke gasped.

  "Not sure. But if they're preparing an attack against Wycome, nothing is stopping them from taking a tour there. We have more than enough sweaty, muscly support here, but Kirkwall is opened should the city be their aim." Dorian suggested.

  "Got it." Fenris nodded, wholeheartly agreeing with that logic. "We can check in with Merrill to see if the kids in the Alienage are still where they should be."

  "Right. We'll hold the fort back at Kirkwall."

  The ravensky call ended. Hawke and Fenris slept light and packed up early the next day, riding non stop until they reached the City of Chains.