Shaleene1

Maker, but he was tired. So, so tired. You're always tired. "I know, old friend," he breathed quietly. Anders was, for want of a better word, alone down here in these old tunnels that led from Darktown to Hawke's estate, but caution built of long years as a wanted fugitive held him to old habits. He fumbled beneath dusty robes still speckled with blood from his last patient for a small key. Feeling the all-familiar dizziness sweeping over again, he leaned against the rock wall of the passage, clutching the key in his hand as though it were a talisman against his own weakness. Perhaps it was. Pushing down Justice's concerns over his fragilit