Captain El - A Treasure Worth Dying For.

(Image by Twitter @FadeLurker)

Deciding this was probably better done alone, she snuck out of the keep in the early hours. Leaving her lover sound asleep, a note left on the night stand, a quick kiss pressed to her forehead, she headed down to the courtyard and got a horse from the stable. She spent a few moments to joke with the stable hands, making bawdy jokes and comments. She was always more comfortable with people like her, the guttersnipes, the rabble. She had been…lucky? Is that the word? No, she had been around people of every station. Even met the king of her home country once. That was before he was king and just a snot nosed little kid. Saw the Empress once too. Real beautiful that one. Born to rule. That wasn't luck. That was circumstance. But all the same she felt much more comfortable here.

Her life had never been easy and she would freely admit it was her own fault. Growing up in a rich merchant family she knew the right cutlery to use, the right outfit to wear, the way one was supposed to talk to any person be they king or pauper. She just... chose not to. A pirates life was a life for her, although she could admit she hadn't been that pirate in a long time, not since…sighing she shook her head, that didn't matter now.

The only one who really knew what had happened back then was Cole, the boy who was a spirit who was real. She smiled at the thought of him. He was unlike anyone she had ever met, sweet, confusing, needing to help. It was he that pushed her, inadvertently, into making this trip. With his uncanny sense of what bothered people, what haunted them. She then turned to her friend Solas for help, he made a trip to the fade, to trace the one who stole the maps, found her and found the location. Again, she shook her head in amazement. Friends with an elf, the stoic and wise and ever so tricksy Solas, the consort of the inquisitor, she grinned at the word, she couldn't imagine Solas consenting to being called a consort, therefore she would be sure to say it when she returned. And then there was the Inquisitor himself. He was her friend too. She could never have predicted that. She had docked in Orlais a few weeks before the big giant scary hole in the sky made its appearance, she had been there on the exact mission she was on now, but she had seen the panic, the fear, the demons and knew she needed to help more than just herself.

So she started to help. When had she become this person? It happened slowly, without her noticing, she supposed. Once, a fearsome terror on the seas, a pirate of bloodthirsty reputation. Now a…helpful altruistic grinning rogue. Ugh. She knew the why, Cole knew the why too with his sense of knowing shit, but not the when. However, she had turned up at skyhold with no real idea of how she could help but needing to, wanting to. Trevelyan, the Inquisitor, all his companions, slowly became friends, not just names and titles but her friends.

She rode in the direction of Halamshiral, not to get to her ship and going along the waking sea coast, as that would have been a logistical nightmare, and far too conspicuous.

So she rode, staying the night in inns, taking her time and trying not to ride her horse to ground in her eagerness to get there. Her maps! Her maps, the only thing of value she had of her family, from the only one that knew she was better than the rest thought of her, her grandfather. He had won them in game of wicked grace as a young man. Never realising their value until they were nearly stolen. Placed in a safe after that he had kept them, wondering but never acting on them. And so for years they sat, gathering dust. As a girl, she used to pester the old man, asking where they lead, what treasure awaited and he story was different every time. But to her he left them. Her family, hating the black sheep El, had sold them when he died out of spite, she knew. And so begin the many years of chasing them, always just missing out, til she was lead to a crow from Antiva. Trying to kill each other when they first met, they became friends, even occasional lovers. Even stayed together for a few years, loving, laughing, adventuring. Until the crow, true to herself, decided to betray the friendship, the trust that had been built and taken the only thing she could to truly hurt El. Her maps.

And now she was close, so close. Solas had seen where the crow had put them. A small fishing village, between Jadar and Halamshiral, a non-descript little backwater place. She'd been here once, not through choice, it had been in an escape. where she and the crow had hidden after being chased across country after a deal gone bad. El knew this place, knew there was a cache here but hadn't thought the crow would be that blatant, that insultingly obvious.

Stabling her horse and getting a room at the local inn, the Bears Head, she headed straight for the chantry. Walking with casual ease, she smiled at the locals who looked her way and headed toward the old building. Feeling a twinge between her shoulder blades she stopped and looked up at the simple brick-built chantry, using the motion to check around, knowing she was being watched with more than casual interest. But seeing no one she gave a small mental shrug and headed inside, stopping just inside the door to let her eyes adjust. She remembered her first thought the last time she came in here and calling it a chantry was giving it airs and graces it did not have. She was alone and so she headed to a stand of candles at the side of the room, directly in front of a roughly carved statue of Andraste, El bowed her head and put her hands together, for a moment looking the picture of pious supplication, before going to one knee in a genuflection, the knife in her hand digging into the corner of a stone beside her knee and flipping it open in one motion. She stayed still a moment, breathing quietly, listening in case she had been heard, trying to shake a feeling she was still being watched. El looked up and around, there wasn't that many places to hide in here, better just to get it done and leave. Leaning down she reached down to the hole in the floor and groped inside. Holding her breath until she felt the familiar touch of a parchment, rolled tightly, she breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out the scroll and shoved it into her black corset before replacing the stone and standing, bowing her head in silent thanks to the makers bride.

After a passable meal in the inn, to be fair she'd eaten worse, she sat in the corner and drank her tankard of mead and lost herself in thought. It was only when she head the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn did she come back to the room, her eyes through her mask instantly locating the source of the sound. Looked like a bust up over a game gone bad, she internally shrugged but kept her gaze watchful, all because that feeling was back. Of being watched, of impending danger. Her eyes glanced over the room and she tried not to grind her teeth in frustration. Nothing. Again. Maybe she was getting paranoid. After all, these maps were highly sort after, people had died to take them. One could almost believe they were cursed. She snorted a laugh at that thought and stood, stretching, she yawned before giving one quick glance round the room and heading up to her own for the night.

Had it not been fir the fact that she dropped the key to her room on the floor and bend to pick it up, the blade would have gone straight through her eye. Instinctually hef knees crumpled and she rolled to one side, out of the doorway landing on her arse in a heap beside the wall before scrambling up and slamming her arm across the chest of the black clad figure who barrelled through the open door. It wasnt a pretty manoeuvre, nor was it professional but it saved her life. The figure was more solid than she thought as he jarred her arm running into it, stumbling back with a grunt. Leaping after the figure she realised her mistake as she got too close, a knife glinted in the dark and she tried to shove him back but his hands clamped round her arms. This guy was fucking huge, a quick glance told her he was a qunari, or at least Tal Vasoth, his horns curled round his head and he bared his white teeth at her, right up until her knife was shoved under his chin and through his mouth, his eyes glazed over and his mouth went slack and his teeth stained red as blood poured between his lips. He slumped and dragged her down on top of him.

Grunting she pulled the knife free and rolled off him breathing heavily "fuck fuck fuck fuck" she chanted under her breath. Shaking her head to clear it she leaned over and patted him down briefly, pulling free a few hidden knives and throwing stars, she pocketed them and stood. One step and she was in her room, she closed the door and locked it, knowing there would be more of them arriving soon. She picked up her pack and went to the window, carefully checking if it was clear. Below another figure stood, this one smaller, leaner. An elf. What the hell? An elf and a fucking qunari? Who were the fucking people?

Turning back to the room she spotted a small nightstand and moving as quietly as possible she picked the heavy little stand up with a grunt and carried it over to the window before leaning it against the sill and aiming it as best she could. She pursed her lips and gave a quiet whistle and the figure looked up, just in time to see the nightstand flying down toward his face. With no time to react it hit him and he crumpled to the floor. With a grin, El threw her pack after it and climbed carefully down into the alley, climbing over the prone figure and the night stand that had remarkably stayed in one piece. She took a moment to check this one, he wasn't dead but she should kill him, he knew she had escaped but she couldn't do it. She grit her teeth, killing in defence was one thing, killing an unconscious man...she just couldn't. She had, could and would have once upon a time, killed for the sake of it, and revelled in the chaos death would bring, but not now. She liked to think she was better than that. Sge checked his pockets and found a note in a familiar script. Instructions to retrieve the maps, the thing that hurt her heart was the note at the bottom. It said to kill the her and get rid of the body, the pirate didn't matter, only the maps mattered. Crumpling the note in her fist she threw it, quietly cursing the heartless bitch Crow and ruing the day she ever met her.

Picking up her pack, El put it on her shoulders and jogged to the end of the alley and looked both ways, seeing nothing she trotted out and nearly screamed as the arrow pierced through the meat of her shoulder and out the other side, pinning the strap of her bag to her. Stumbling she ran, nearly fell as the pain near blinding her, gritting her teeth she just ran until she couldn't anymore. Straight to the edge of the quiet village and into the first open door she found and crouched down, nearly sobbing as the pain radiated out from that one point.

It was possible El may have blacked out a moment as she crouched in that darkness, for the darkness seemed brighter when she opened her eyes. She could feel the blood that soaked through her shirt and dried slightly, sticky and dark. In the grey light she saw she was in a blacksmiths, the tools hung on the wall, the fire was banked in the forge and all was quiet. As quietly as she could she stood, gritting her teeth as pain radiated through her, the weight of the pack on her back pulling the arrow deeper into the muscle there. Grabbing a pair of pliers from the wall she turned and rested the heavy pack against the bench, the weight being removed from the arrow nearly made her sob in relief. Pulling a breathe through her nose, she picked up the pliers and snapped the shaft near the wound before carefully she pulled the strap off the arrow. The pain caused her to nearly bite her tongue off as she tried not to scream. Blood filled her mouth, she had bitten into her tongue then, the metallic taste making her nauseous but she could finally take the pack off. She fell to her knees and breathed, steeling herself for what came next, reaching round to her back she pulled the arrow out and...then she did pass out.

A sound, quiet, deliberately being quiet woke her, had someone come banging in she may not have woken at all but her body had almost been trained to hear the sound of someone being quiet, to react in fight mode. She stayed still, if the blacksmith had come to open his forge he wouldn't be sneaking, so it was one of them. Her fingers twitched feeling the broken arrow still clenched tightly in her hand, her shoulder throbbed, she knew she had lost a lot of blood. Now she could hear someone routing around in her pack, searching, a quiet curse as they come up empty, she may have done stupid things but she wasn't stupid. Those maps were hidden for now. The figure walked quietly over to her and crouched down, the unmistakable sound of a blade being drawn and the light changed as the figure crouched over her to slit her throat. Which was when she brought the arrow up and shoved it into the persons thigh, into the life vein there, the figure shrieked, a womanly sound, and fell back.

El rolled over and crawled on top of the figure, pulling the mask from her head, gripping the smaller woman's jaw and snarling "I wouldn't pull that arrow free were I you, you'll bleed out before anyone can help you." The woman snarled back up at El and swore in antivan

El grinned "You tell her that if I see her, or she sends anyone after me, they will all die. Do you understand?" The woman nodded and El could see death in her eyes, her own but also the fear of bleeding out. El stood, unsteadily but feeling stronger, picking up the pack she backed out, keeping her eyes on the downed woman before turning and fleeing or at least trying to, to the stables. She'll tend her shoulder when she was away from here.

But now she had them. They were hers once more. Her maps. Her maps! Now she wondered if she could convince her friends to find out what was worth so many deaths, so much killing. Heading back to Skyhold, a new scar to add to the rest, she felt excitement for the first time in a long time.