Another story on the second part. With dialogs, as usual, I am a little liberty. We wish the characters happiness, and I wish prosperity or use of the yadu.

Below, at the steep cliffs, even the seemingly warm sea glittered under the sunlight. The sand of the waters rustled, hampered the movement and packed into heavy shoes. But far more than in the sand, Avelyn Valen, captain of the city guard Kirkwall, was stuck in his feelings and doubts.

Here he is, near - beautiful, strong, calm! One has only to stretch one's hand ... No, you just don’t need to stretch one's arms, he can not think what to think! Calmly, Avelyn, calmly, everything is going well, you are alone ... In patrol. Oh, no wonder she thought that making an explanation out of the patrol was a lousy idea!

Avelyn thought so much that she noticed a cobblestone lying on the road only when, having stumbled over it, it nearly flopped its face into the sand. He helped, walking alongside - instantly reacted, picked up under his elbow, helped to maintain balance, but, barely making sure that she herself was on her feet, he immediately removed her hand. The captain barely restrained a sigh of disappointment. Of course. As always, restrained and disciplined. A real dream. There is a dream and a name. Clover. The very name she can't even pronounce, not knowing how to address it and where to start! Nothing, they still have time to talk - the main thing is that no one interferes. Ragged shore was not without reason considered the most dangerous patrol, but today it should be different!

The thought of a limp hawk, rushing ahead, to eliminate in advance the evil beast and not less harmful representatives of intelligent races, capable of disturbing the patrol idyll of the patrol, cordially, would have amused Amusean if she were now able to party. Now, however, this thought only caused her concern. They painted everything by the minute, the signal light should have already burned, letting know that the first section of the path is free! What did they decide to laugh at her? This dark-skinned slut, for sure! Or? ... Fereldenets is, of course, an experienced fighter, but it never happened that something could happen ...

... Hawk, clutching a bat-fist in the throat of a fighting dog that had overturned him, with another hand frantically bludgeoning him on the head, trying not to let him go to his own neck. Isabella, stooping to a high fire made of dry wood, frantically struck a flint.

Aveline and Donnik approached the next turn on the guard, ready at any moment to grab their weapons - the city guard knew firsthand which parts of the coast were the most dangerous. The captain, despite the stony face, was torn between worrying about a friend and being angry at this stupid venture.

Isabella, throwing a quick glance at the footpath passing below and two approaching figures, cursed in a whisper, and again struck flint on the chair. A thick sheaf of sparks crumbled along the fire that finally caught fire, and the fire quickly ran up the tarred wood.

Even the archon Hessarian, when burned by the hated prophetess, Andrastus, did not feel such relief at the sight of the flames that flared up like Avelyn now. This could not help but be reflected on her face, and it is very good that Donnik was looking the other way, looking around the area that had opened to his eyes, showing no signs of hostility.

“Quiet patrol,” he remarked in surprise, turning to the captain. - I would say, unusually ... quiet.

Hawk, a dozen meters above, squeezed his throat desperately to the dog, stopping the roar coming out of the animal's throat.

Avelyn smiled bewilderedly.

- Very good...the weather, she found. - And the evening, I think, will be wonderful.

Donnik looked at her, puzzled.

- As you say, captain.

“Yes,” Aveline squeezed out of herself in half with a false laugh, when the guard, turning away, continued to inspect the road, “as I say ...”

From somewhere from the side of a blazing bonfire, there was a sound like a dog whining. The dog, taking advantage of Hawke's weak grip, tried plaintively to accompany his attempts to break out of the tight embrace. Before the sound managed to attract the attention of the guard standing below, Isabella interrupted him with a dagger blow. Hawk, thanking his companion with his eyes, threw off a heavy carcass, turned over on his stomach and looked at the road.

“Creator,” he breathed, “lousy, she does.”

The patrol was going according to plan - the one that Avelyn had prepared, was carried out by Hawke, and about which Donnik was not suspicious. With a small, but terribly principled exception - she still did not dare to really speak to him! The second signal fire was lit on time - it means that this section of the path is safe. Here he turns to her, clearly again surprised by the desert route, which almost never did without unpleasant encounters. Well, Avelyn, come on, I have to say something! The hand unconsciously felt the handle of the weapon ...

“Swords!” Avelin gasped, staring at her companion’s face.

The guard stiffened with his mouth half open.

“Swords, ahem,” the captain cleared her throat. “Uh, a sword may be too soft if it is incorrectly made.” It befits him to be flexible, but at the same time firm. Hardening is the key step that can create a sword or break.

“Of course,” Donnik cautiously agreed.

“The sword ... fit for different things.” What do you think ... about swords?

She desperately stared at her comrade in arms - damn, well, maybe in his eyes she would read and understand everything! In vain - stronger than before, the puzzled guard carefully examined the socks of forged shoes.

“Sorry, captain, he began carefully, but, I'm afraid I didn't understand something ...”

“Aw,” Avelyn smiled sweetly. - Nothing, that is, in the sense of nonsense.

"The creator, I hope, he will not hear how my teeth creak."

Above came a cross between the intermittent sobbing, groaning and whining. Whose throat it wiped out, its owner clearly experienced universal despair. And something prompted the knight woman that this time the author of the sound was not a dog.

“Horror,” Hawk whispered and clenched his jaw tightly so as not to repeat his involuntary number.

“You said she had a man in Ferelden?” - Isabella also quietly asked, squatting beside him. The incision in the tunic revealed an excellent view of the tanned thigh, which Hawke immediately looked at, glad of any opportunity to escape from the spectacle that literally brought him physical suffering.

“I would hand ...” the sailor said thoughtfully, receiving a nod from Hawk, and stopped short. - No, suppose my hand is too expensive, but I would give it to the cut-off to see how she was courting him.

The sun, passing the zenith slowly crawled to the sea. The patrol was coming to an end. No chance. Not a single attack. Exactly the same number of words about why it all started.

“Well,” said Abelin with a smile, “it was a good patrol, a guard ... Hawk ?!”

Donnik, inspecting the other side of the path, turned to remind him that his name was different, and immediately saw the one to whom the exclamation was addressed.

- Such a surprise! - with a creepy unnatural smile, said the captain. Despite the metal in his voice, there was clearly a hint of panic in him. - What are you doing here?

“Abelin ...” the Feeldena responded in an unctuous voice.

- Hawk! - warning woman raised her hand almost with the pleading in her eyes.

- Can someone please explain to me what is going on here? - outlined his presence as always reserved Donnik.

Isabella snorted, flashing white teeth that were set off by dark skin.

- Well, a couple, thunder and lightning, you stand each other! Bend it, finally, and otzhar as it should!

If the proposal broke the stone peace of the guard, he tried not to submit it.

“I ... should return to the barracks,” he found. - Captain, - a shallow bow. “Sir Hawk, lady,” a short nod. Isabella rolled her eyes at the high society appeal. Turning around, Donnik ...