"One of the dullest tasks an initiate could find himself doing was serving guard for some celebration. However, they were also rare opportunities to mingle with the people in power. The ball I attended here was no different."

- From the Journal of Eratus Riverwood

There was no moonlight this evening, which meant I had to rely on the light from candles and fireplaces seeping from the surrounding houses to guide my way. My only company were the rats scurrying out and about and the only sound for the most part came from the steady clap of the cobblestones against my boots.

New boots, with brass buckles which glinted even in the dark.

I caught my reflection on a glass shop window. I paused, wanting at least one more look at my new outfit.

The man staring back at me bore no recognition to my previous self. Gone was the scraggly hair, beard, mustache. It had been cropped and shaven, with enough hair left to be combed back above a clean face. Gone were my old clothes that were so caked in dust, dirt, and sweat all the colors seemed to blend together. Now I had a green dress shirt with yellow vines wisping down toward the belt. A style that was “in-season” for the nobility according to Shianni. She also remarked about how the design was originally of elven-make, and how no human tailor or noble would ever admit to it.

My gloves felt like they were made by something a bit more rugged than typical cowhide, and my pants were supposedly woven from some hardy fabric imported from the south. Traded from those dwelling in the Korcari wilds. All of it in tandem made for a good formal outfit.

My purse-string felt the formal aspect of it, as the total original cost would have emptied it plus half. However, thanks to a bit of Shianni’s verbal magic, and I had to admit she was one of the best hagglers I met both here and back home, the total cost was brought down to a quarter of that.

“The counsel you received earlier appears to be accurate.”

“What makes you say that?” I whispered.

“From the information I collected thus far. The external drapes you call clothes communicate one’s societal status. The color scheme and fit of your garments do well to exhibit those qualities. One who participates in armed combat.”

“True.” I muttered. I didn’t expect the construct to know that much, although with a name like Lorekeeper I suppose I should have expected it to. “Still a bit expensive for my taste. I’m just an over glorified guard.”

“However, I assume these expenses will pay themselves after this evening’s efforts. I believe instead of thinking in terms of cost, a better term would be investment.”

“Now you sound like my Aunt.” I tugged the edge of my belt, making sure the Lorekeeper’s disc and my sword was strapped in place. Two items I could not risk losing or get stolen. “Do me a favor and just stay quiet for the evening. Not unless you sense any immediate danger.”

“Of course, Knight-Lieutenant.”

I didn’t know what Taoran had in mind, but the job itself seemed relatively harmless. I had enough experience with the nobles of this world to figure out they weren’t all that different from those in Stormwind. Standing guard for one of their celebrations seemed easy enough. After all, the Stormwind Cathedral had been the site for many celebrations and the Church had a generous supply of initiates as ushers and guards.

I tucked my collars and continued down the street. It wasn’t long before I could make out the sound of activity in the distance. Laughter, shouting, and excitement. All with a hint of people who had one too many drinks than they could handle.

The road billowed out to the market, which was far emptier than during the day. Vacant spaces left behind by stalls which would be full of goods and advertising traders. A tangled line of flattened cobblestones, weathered by years of human and animal traffic. All of it visible by the single brightest source of light in the corner. A building large enough to be a manor, shining like a beacon of light in the city. Above the door, large letters had been chipped into the wood. The Gnawed Noble’s Tavern.

Scores of people congregated around it, and to the Lorekeeper’s point their clothes clearly indicated they were no mere commoners. I looked past them and spotted five men dressed in all black with swords strung to their belts. One who matched Taoran’s profile.

I moved towards them, doing my best to avoid getting too close to the socialites outside. A harder thing to do as I got into the thick of it as it was clear these people had one drink too many. A few bumped into me, but I moved fast enough to mutter an apology and get away to avoid any prolonged confrontation.

“Eratus!” Taoran walked up, giving me a bear hug and a whiff of stale beer. “There you are!”

“Have you been drinking?” I pulled away, not really concealing the disgust on my face.

“Eh just a little.” He perked upwards and stumbled back, nearly tipping into a pair of people behind him before righting himself.

I crossed my arms.

“I thought we were going to be on guard this evening.”

“True,” said Taoran. “Well, you lot will be, but not I. Then again, I think everyone’s had a few spirits to calm the nerves.”

He poked my chest, then look over my shoulder. “Aren’t I right boys?”

I looked over as the rest of the men joined us and I immediately recognized the first three. Bill, Ted, and Tom. The same three from my first job with Taoran.

“Well, what do we have here?” said Bill. “This lout again?”

“I was wondering where you’ve been,” said Ted.

“You finally decide to join up with the rest of us?” Tom looked back to the towering figure. “Balt over here has been wondering too you know.”

Balt joined in towering over them like Fort Drakon over Denerim. He was the reason why I got the job in the first place. By knocking him unconscious and taking his spot.

Balt said nothing, looking at me with a stern face. What I deciphered was a mix of aggression, injured pride, and probably no small desire for revenge.

“I’m just here for the business.” I said, not really wanting to get dragged into anything. “Not really looking for any trouble.”

“What is up with the outfit?” Bill grabbed a bit of fabric from my shoulder. “You’re dressed like a woodland sprite.”

“I was told to dress for the occasion.” I brushed Bill’s hand off, while keeping an eye on the taller fellow. “Nobody mentioned color.”

Balt’s eyes narrowed as he took a step towards me. I took a step back, my hands readying for a fight, but before anything could happen Taoran stepped between us.

“Now gents.” He stumbled a bit as he pushed us apart. “Let us let bygones be bygones. And Eratus here is dressed perfectly fine, after all…”

His words caught in his throat as his gaze snapped to the side. Any sign of alcoholic cheer evaporated, leaving behind a face made of stone. The effect wasn’t limited to him. Everyone around us started to quiet down, their attention turning toward the newcomers.

A procession of people stepped forward from the shadows. At its head was a man as tall as Balt, leading a group of equally tall men. Soldiers from the looks of it. The merriment present in the crowd of people shriveled up as he approached, and everyone moved to give the procession a wide berth.

As he got closer, the light from the tavern revealed his features. I could tell this was someone of importance just by how he carried himself. He walked straight, with pride, expecting all others to give their deference to him. He had black hair done like a raven’s wings which fell sideways into two braids, but by far the most prominent feature were his eyes. A gaze that could puncture metal, which I had only seen among the veteran paladin instructors.

Taoran stood off to the side, tucking his chin down. A motion that everyone mimicked, including myself. I did not want to draw unnecessary attention to myself here.

The lead man paused in front of us, and I felt a momentary chill down my spine. Old memories of being inspected by the paladin instructors bubbled up to the surface of my mind. The man didn’t turn his gaze, but it seemed like he was expecting something.

“Your grace.” Taoran bowed, absent any signs of his previous drunkedness. “Teryrin Loghain. I hope you are doing well this evening.”

I distinctly recalled Teryrin as one of the highest noble titles in the realm. Second below the actual ruler.

“Hawkwind.” Teryrn Loghain for that matter didn’t bother making eye contact but continued looking straight ahead. “I see you are enjoying the evening. Is your father present?”

“He is preoccupied with other matters for the crown your grace,” said Taoran. “Clearing raider encampments off the storm coast, keeping the trade routes clear for the remainder of summer.”

“I see.” Teryrin Loghain sniffed, scrunching his nose as if he smelled something unpleasant. “I expect he will get the job done.”

“Yes, your grace.”

“And I assume I can place the same trust in you,” said Teryrin Loghain. “Your recent excursions have proven… adequate.”

“I appreciate the kind words your grace,” said Taoran. “I will not fail you.”

“Take care not to,” said Teryrn Loghain. “I assume you will be departing for the Kendells estate for the evening?”

Taoran jolted, but only slightly.

“I-I am your grace.”

“Don’t be surprised.” Teryrn Loghain looked down to rub something off a fingertip. “I am quite aware of the party held for the youth after the Landsmeet. Almost a tradition by now. I was young once too, at one point.”

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The last remark seemed like it was meant to be humorous but it came out like a threat.

“Take care not to be embroiled in any undue fusses tonight,” said Teryrin Loghain. “The Kendells boy takes after his father too much. I only pray he places at least half the efforts he puts into ceremony for when he is in charge of running this city. Maybe then we wouldn’t have so many vagabonds, vagrants, and other unsavory folks flitting about.”

“Yes, your grace,” said Taoran.

“Enjoy the evening Hawkwind,” said Teryrn Loghain. “I will continue watching your career with great interest.”

Taoran dipped his head into a lower bow as the procession continued. As they disappeared into the tavern, the people outside resumed their normal drunken activities.

“Never reckoned the day I’d see the old crow up close,” said Bill.

“I know some blokes who fought under his banner,” said Tom. “One of the most ruthless bastards you’d ever seen. I’m just glad he’s on our side. If he’d been fighting for the Orlesians…”

“That’ll be enough of that,” said Taoran, who had wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead. It looked as if it had taken all of his willpower to stand straight. “Let us not talk ill of one of our biggest patrons. We have a job tonight, so let us make our way there.”

We moved out the market and on our way to our destination. It took no time for the hooliganism and buffoonery to begin. Bill kicked around stray bricks while Tom started to sing, badly for that matter. It was bad enough people arrived to shut their windows as we approached.

I followed behind, close enough not to lose sight but far enough to not be associated with them. The only other person who didn’t take part was Balt, who trailed between me and the rest of them.

Of all the members I resolved to keep a close eye on Balt. It was all to clear that he had a taste for vengeance.

Balt’s pace slowed, and he got closer and closer to me. I tensed up, one hand resting on the pommel of my sword.

By now, we stood side-by-side. I glanced over at the man, who just looked straight ahead.

“Uh,” said Balt. “You’re pretty good at fighting. I’d like to learn.”

I blinked.

“Huh?” I said.

“I-um.” Balt scratched his cheek, looking around. “I want to get better. Would you uh… be okay if we spar at the grounds?”

“Uh sure,” I said. I was expecting him to threaten or goad me, not exactly ask me to be his sparring partner.

“Great!” Balt looked at me with a smile that stretched across his cheeks. “You know I am one of the best at the fighting grounds. I was the best once too, until you appeared. But my papa always told me there would be one day that you gotta fight against the best to be the best.”

“Your uh… father seems like a smart man.” I said.

“He is! He fought for King Maric you know. I learned everything about fighting from him. Got everything from him too.” Balt flexed his arms. “He took care of me when I was just a mouse so now. Taoran is a good person too, he pays very well.”

“I don’t disagree with that,” I said.

“I don’t like the others much though.” He pointed right as Tom kicked a pebble right into a pot, smashing its side. “They do a lot of bad things, like right now.”

“Why do you work with them then?”

“Well, I need the money to take care of my papa. All the medicine uses up a lot of coin. I know I’m really good at fighting and Mr Taoran pays a lot for what I do.”

I pursed my lips. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Thanks for taking sparring with me uh- what was your name again?”

“Eratus,” I said. “And I’ll be up to spar with you as time permits it.”

I made a reassessment of Balt. It didn’t seem like he was that bad of a person. A bit bone-headed and was probably manipulated into being a mercenary but not a bad soul by any means.

We reached the edge of what separated the wealthy part of the city from the not-so wealthy parts. Standing in front of us was a manor that was four stories high, had its own garden, and was gated behind a metal fence-line. Almost a castle within a castle.

As I looked at the building, I felt an arm sling over my shoulder.

“Eratus.” Taoran said. “I think after tonight you’ll be reconsidering my offer. And do you know why?”

I just raised my eyebrow.

“Because you.” Taoran pointed his finger, nudging me in the chest. “You are a man of extraordinary talents, just like I am. But talent alone isn’t enough to make it in this world. Men like you and I. We need patronage. The same way my father made his way up. Such patronage will open whole entire new doors of possibilities. Fame, fortune, and if-so suits you a higher class of women.”

He had literally uttered the three common temptations all paladin intiates were trained to master. Not that it held much sway for me. I just wanted to go home.

“Thanks,” I said. “But I’m just here for easy work and easy pay. If it is too good to be true, then it probably is.”

“Ah you need to have bigger dreams Eratus,” said Taoran. “But in the meantime don’t forget that is I who pay you. Got it?”

I looked away from him, not able to stand his disgusting breath for much longer.

“Quite clear.”

“Excellent. And as a show of good faith.” Taoran slid a pouch jingling with the sound of coins into my hand. “Payment in advance. Remember. Don’t forget. Loyalty.”

I nodded, snaking the pouch of coins into one of my belt buckles.

We stepped through the gates and into a courtyard. Modest, at least from what I’ve seen before. A few trimmed bushes and a well-paved lawn. Beyond the manor lay bare, and within I could hear men and women laughing and conversing like from the tavern. Glasses clinking. Music played by some string instrument set to a cheerful tone. The lights shone through the windows of the manor, cut only by the shadows of people moving about.

I could smell various fragrances. Perfumes, incense, and the occasional waft of whatever they had as supper, which smelled of strong spices. Whatever it was however, it overpowered even the musk of the city.

A foppish old man dressed in a plain but colorful outfit walked up to us, a glare on his face.

“You are late,” he said.

“Fashionably late.” Taoran smiled, a gesture the old man did not return. “How is old Vaughn doing Herald?”

“The young master is preoccupied at the moment,” said the old man. “But he is doing well and partaking in the festivities.”

The old man looked over Taoran’s shoulder to us.

“These are the men I take it?” he said.

“Yes,” said Taoran.

The old man stepped around and regarded each and every one of us.

“Oi,” said Tom. “What’s the deal old chap?”

The old man recoiled back.

“By the Maker,” said the old man. “Have you been drinking?”

“Eh… just had a few pints that is all,” said the henchman.

“This is quite unacceptable!” The old man looked at Taoran. “This is a noble ceremony! The young master will hear about this!”

Taoran shrugged. “Vaughn wouldn’t mind. Besides, who cares if the men have a few drinks.”

The old man sighed, rolling his eyes in an admission of defeat. He took out a napkin to cover his noise before inspecting each of us. He walked down like a drill inspector, shaking his head at each man until he reached me.

I looked straight, giving the best soldierly impression I could.

The old man withdrew his napkin, looking me up and down.

“Hm…” he said. “A bit plain but you’ll do.”

“Hey,” said Bill. “What’s so special about him?”

“Nothing special. But he is set apart because he is the only one presentable among you lot.”

He called a younger servant over.

“Lead them to the back entrances please.” The Herald pointed to the servant. “This good man will show you the way.”

Tom, Bill, and Ted grumbled as they followed. Balt tagged along without much care. Then the Herald turned towards me.

“You however, will be coming with me.”

“And I’ll be making my way in then,” said Taoran.

“No.” The old man placed a hand to stop his advance. “Not before, I introduce you first. I understand you are not accustomed to noble courtesies, but such things must be taken into account.”

Taoran rolled his eyes but gestured for the old man to lead the way. The herald ignored the jibe and led us up the steps into the main court.

We entered and was greeted by a ball which had begun in full swing. It was brighter here, so bright that I had to squint while my eyes adjusted. There was music playing, following the tune of some unfamiliar string instrument. The fragrances now were overpowering, although I preferred it to the sewage of the rest of the city.

Above all the scene was dominated by the crowds of young noble men and women dressed in colorful garments. All of them either conversed with one another or imbibed in what looked to be wine and light snacks provided by tables on opposite ends of the court.

“Taoran Hawkwind has arrived,” said the Herald.

The Herald’s voice boomed but the people within paid little attention.

“May I go now?” said Taoran.

The Herald sighed and flitted his hand in a gesture for Taoran to go off. The mercenary leader departed, disappearing into the fray of people.

I stayed behind, trying to be mindful of the moving crowds.

“You seem like the most level-headed of the lot,” said the Herald.

I looked at the old man and said, “Well I try to keep head straight.”

“Do so,” said the Herald. “If it isn’t clear already, the celebration upon which you are protecting is one involving the meeting of all of Ferelden’s young heirs. For many this is their first time congregating without the oversight of their elders. A rare opportunity to meet their peers as true equals, and I shall have you know that as the Herald of the Arl of Denerim, I have overseen no less than twelve of these without incident.”

I nodded. “And I guess you want to make this your thirteenth without incident?”

“Precisely. The houseguards are present, although the majority are off serving the Arl proper. Unfortunately, due to that I have to rely upon… other fine gentlemen to fill the gaps as they say, and due to the Arl’s personal acquaintances, and the… esteem of your company, you will be filling in that gap.”

“Don’t need to worry about anything from me,” I said.

“Good man.” The Herald pointed at the floor above us, where a balcony overlooked the main court. “I recommend watching from up there. I have done very well in mitigating any conflicts that may arise, but assistance will be needed as time goes on.”

“Sounds easy enough,” I said.

The Herald departed and I waded through the crowd, trying not to cause any “conflicts” as the Herald put it. I did pick up bits of conversation as I waltzed through.

“Excellent look Harper, did you pull that from last season’s ball?”

“I swear, with the number of vagrants middling about the city now.”

“I know! I was approached by a few while entering the gates. Horrid creatures.”

“Did you hear we have gray wardens here?”

“I haven’t seen one since the late king rescinded their exile.”

“It’s true! I saw two of them here. They even had their armor on!”

“And who have you seen wearing armor out here? Even the guards don’t have it on. You must be seeing things…”

Most of it seemed like typical aristocratic gossips and gripes, so I paid little attention as I passed the crowd and made my way up the stairs.

Once I reached the balcony, I noticed guards leaned over and watching the people below. Most of them all wore the same green and yellow tabard which I took to be the house colors.

I remained by the stairway, and mimicked their postures. After that, I kept my eyes on the people below and waited.

I spent some time reviewing the faces from afar, and it was all too easy to recognize that most of those in this ball were young. Mainly due to inexperience in polite society. I could pick out about seven girls who were definitive wallflowers, and about twenty boys who tried to make up for a lack of confidence by acting like peacocks. About double the number who were drinking far too quickly as if liquor was a form of liquid courage.

Youth and alcohol were a dangerous combination, but there didn’t seem to be any trouble brewing so far.

I sighed, thinking of all the other things I could be doing instead. Like studying up and practicing those old combat seals and sigils. Or trying to understand Flemeth’s cryptic message.

Then one noble split off from his peers, heading up the stairs. He was a bright-eyed youth with yellow hair cropped just below his ear. He looked ahead with gloom and boredom.

It seemed not everyone was so taken by the festivities.

I noted an unfamiliar crest woven upon his shirt. Two wreaths joined at the bottom and spreading outward. Must’ve been a family symbol of some sort.

The noble walked past me, moving to open one of the windows, taking a large breath. I could feel the wind enter and rustle through my back.

“Oh, sorry if I bothered,” said the young noble. “I didn’t mean to give you a chill. I just needed to get some fresh air. It is quite stuffy down there.”

“Not an issue at all your lordship.” I turned, and dipped my head in a bow as I saw how commoners typically acted to the nobility. “It does seem a bit crowded down there.”

“It is, isn’t it.” He sighed, leaning back against the window. “It isn’t so much the crowd as those making it up. Unfortunately, family obliges me to be in attendance.”

“Well, I’m sure there is a reason your lordship,” I said. “It does seem important to ensure all the young nobles of the realm get to know one another. Soon enough you’ll be the ones in charge.”

“Now you’re sounding like my father.” The young noble yawned. “You’re a new face though. You aren’t one of the Arl’s bannerman are you? I know the pattern is in style but I doubt the Arl of Denerim is adopting Elvish symbols onto his banners.”

“No, your lordship I am not,” I said, recalling how Shianni talked about how no human noble acknowledged the origin of the patterns. “I’m one of the Blackstone mercenaries.”

“Really?” said the young noble. “Then again, I did see the Blackstone heir flit about down there. No idea where he got the sense to dress in all black, although it befits a rat like him.”

I tried not to laugh, which came out as a cough.

“Sorry if I offended you,” he said. “I don’t know how he is to you but I don’t find him at all pleasant to be around.”

“No harm taken your lordship,” I said. “He pays and I’m just a simple man, trying to make his way through the world that’s all.”

“A simple man, eh?” he said. “Ferghus would probably rinse me for saying this in public but I very much prefer the company of simple folk. May I have your name?”

“Eratus Riverwood,” I said.

“A pleasure to meet you then Eratus.” He offered me a hand. “I’m Aedan. Aedan of House Cousland.”