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A pack of plump rats scampered along the cold, damp stones of the dungeon floor. Their squeaks of communication echoed through the cavernesque halls, but did nothing to overshadow the sounds of torture that otherwise filled the walls as though it was pleasant chamber music. The air was rancid with the stench of rotting flesh, which only seemed to excite the fat vermin that infested the holding cells. Within the bars of every occupied antechamber, the sallow faces of their prisoners peered out. Every face, filthy due to poor hygiene, and every body, insubstantial from lack of proper nourishment. Most were reduced to their smallclothes, though all bore the countless injuries that their Jailor seemed to take extreme pleasure in inflicting.
In one such cell was a tiny elven girl, who seemed out of place amongst the other prisoners. Her sweet face and meager frame made her even more the oddity. Rhyann was her name, and despite her otherwise innocent appearance, she had been locked in her festering cage for many months, only to be freed for the routine beatings or the occasional rape. The cell that she was currently standing in had been her home for longer than any of the other prisoners had been there, which would have made her the talk of the dungeon, permitting the other prisoners actually spoke with one another.
With starvation setting in, Rhyann knew that she was going to die in that cell. It had been months since Vaughan's men had thrown her and Soris into the dungeons, and months, even, since Arl Howe personally deposited Vaughan in the cell across from hers. She honestly didn't remember what she had done to wind up in her predicament, save waking from a blackout, covered in human blood, with the bodies of Lords Braden and Jonaley at her feet. At least when it was just her and her cousin, Vaughan remembered to feed them, even if it was coupled with ritual beatings and rape. But, Rendon Howe was apparently forgetful, or, towards the elves he was. But, who wasn't? That was why she was locked in this cell, after all, because of human cruelty and ignorance. And, she would die in that very cell because of that same cruelty forced upon her because her ears pointed at the end instead of coming to a pleasant curve. Hunger gnawed at her shriveled stomach as she stood there, knowing full well that she wouldn't last much longer without food.
Somewhere in the dungeons, the elf could hear a commotion. This seemed to be the case since the Howe family took over, as Rendon seemed to enjoy nightly escapades into the torture chamber. She knew this because sometimes it was her on his slab, and sometimes, when she was lucky, it was that pig across the narrow dungeon chamber from her. Those were her favorite nights, the ones where Vaughan's shrill cries of pain echoed through the halls.
But, this wasn't her current keeper's doing. He, and several mages, had whisked past not long ago, hardly paying them any attention on their way past the holding cells and into the rooms beyond. Hopefully, this was someone who had heard about her and Soris's imprisonment, someone who would rescue them. She clasped her frail hands together as she snapped her eyes shut in an attempt to utter a prayer to the Maker.
Vaughan laughed cynically at the sight, his emaciated body jiggled up and down as if there was something humorous about the imagery. "The Maker wouldn't send anyone to come save a knife-eared bitch like you." The last part slithered between his teeth as a hiss, as if he was recounting bitterly what the tiny girl before him did. "Braden or Jonaley's fathers probably heard that I was locked up and sent men to come rescue me."
Instead of indulging the hateful comments directed at her, Rhyann continued with her eyes shut, thinking of how to word her pleas for freedom. "Please." She begged aloud, not sure if she was even doing this whole 'pray' thing correctly. It wasn't exactly something that the City Elves did, seeing as the Maker had rarely shown any of them much compassion prior. "Please, if you hear me, send someone, anyone, to free me from this cell. I…I just want to see my father and Shianni again. I'll do anything—I'll fight the Blight that Howe has been talking about." Her hands shook as she spoke, obviously weak from malnourishment.
As quickly as she uttered her prayer, however, the ruckus in the other chambers went silent. Rhyann slumped, with her arms dangling aimlessly on the bars of her undersized cell, her hope crushed. More than likely, one of the jailors forgot to lock up one of their other captives after a bit of torture and they caused a bit of a fuss. It wasn't uncommon, especially since half of the guards were slobbering drunks who couldn't tell the keys from their asses. So was the story of her life, and so she knew it would end; being reduced to nothing as a result of being denied food and water was not how she imagined she would exit the world.
Just breathing was exhausting at this point, just standing there was painful. All of her weight transferred to her breastbone as she leaned against the dirty bars of her holding cell. That position made it easier to remain propped up and thus easier to see the door and to discern if anyone would be approaching. She still wondered, even in fleeting, if the noise she had heard was not some sort of divine intervention coming in to spare her from death this day. Rhyann knew, however, that elves weren't so lucky, and slid her eyes shut, feeling what little energy she still had drain from her body.
Almost suddenly, the door to their wing of the dungeon swung open, startling Rhyann so much that it caused her to jump up, her eyes animatedly snapping open. It was then that the strangest thing she had ever witnessed happened.
In walked a woman, with pointed ears like her and hair dark as night. She wielded a pair of daggers that must have cost more than Rhyann could ever hope to have. The most striking feature of the strange elven woman, however, was her facial markings, blood writing, her mother referred to them as being called. Instantly, Rhyann knew that this woman had to be Dalish. What the likes of such an elf was doing in Denerim was confusing, but she wasn't about to ask.
"There are two more in here!" Called the woman after surveying the situation she had stumbled into. She instantly went to Rhyann's cell and started to examine the diminishing girl questionably.
Soon, the room filled up with fourteen others and a dog, ranging from humans, to dwarves, to other elves. Some had swords and other melee weapons, whilst others still had ornate wooden staffs strapped to their backs. All of which, however, were flecked with ridiculous amounts of blood. And, through the door that they were all entering in, Rhyann could see the spent bodies of the guards littering the floor.
The dark-haired Dalish looked directly into Rhyann's eyes, a soft concern befalling her purple eyes as she looked into the City Elf's sallow face. "What happened to you?" She questioned, obviously ignoring the human man in the cell behind her.
"What happened to her?" Howled Vaughan angrily. He threw his arms up in frustration, or possibly as a means to get everyone's attention. "Leave it to a knife-ear to instantly side with the…the animal who slaughtered half of my father's guards and my friends!"
It was obvious that the racial slur did not sit right with the Dalish, as she whipped around, her eyes burning with ferocious anger. "I wouldn't call the woman holding the keys to your cell 'knife-ear' if I were you." She taunted, jingling the keys she had more than likely stolen off of the dead Jailor teasingly in front of the man's eyes before turning back to the elf currently locked up. "I'm sorry for that, now please; tell me why Howe would lock up such a tiny little thing like you."
A scowl crossed Rhyann's face when her small stature was brought into question, but she wasn't about to argue. She was much too weak, and as the woman had already proven, she had the keys to her cell. Perhaps the Maker had sent this group to her aid after all. "Howe didn't lock me up." She corrected meekly. "They—they kidnapped us on my wedding day. He killed Nola…and—and…I don't remember. Just the blood."
"That's terrible! You have been put through so much, you poor thing." A red-haired woman with an Orlesian accent immerged from the sea of people and took her place next to the dark-haired elf. Her face was riddled with concern, which betrayed her otherwise blood-stained features.
Rhyann opened her mouth to speak again, but was cut off yet again, this time, by a blonde human man in heavy armor. She was having a hard time believing that a group with such a large population of humans would care to hear her tale, but in general, they all seemed genuinely worried, so she didn't bother to speak out against the man.
"I've heard of this, Lyna." Said the man to the Dalish woman, who was obviously the leader of these people. "Vaughan Urien kidnapped a group of elven bridesmaids and two brides on the wedding day so he and his drunken friends could rape them. The two grooms armed themselves and stormed the estate looking for the women and met up with one of the brides. They were apprehended by the guards after they slaughtered a good portion of the soldiers at Urien's estate and Lords Jonaley and Braden."
"How do you know that?" Questioned the Dalish woman who was referred to as 'Lyna'.
The man locked eyes with Rhyann momentarily, a sad look crossing his face as he did so. She must have been quite the sight, a starving, dirty elf, no taller than a Dwarven woman, and locked in a cell for supposedly killing a bunch of humans who had it coming. And, there he was, more than likely silently judging her as he stood there in his shiny, fancy armor. All of the human men who had stumbled across her in her filthy cage did, some even going so far as to mutter something like 'the bitch probably deserves this' as they walked past.
"Duncan had wanted to recruit a girl from the Denerim Alienage before Ostagar. He even took me with to go ask her, but when we arrived…it was too late. We tried to appeal to Vaughan, but he refused, claiming that she was already executed when Duncan brought up the Right of Conscription."
With those words, the man stepped up to her cell, probably to get a better look at her. She was barely hanging onto their conversation, but was trying her hardest to concentrate. It was hard, what with her belly constantly reminding her that it hadn't been filled in a long time, and her throat aching terribly with dryness. But, her confusion and curiosity got the better of her. What exactly was the armored man speaking of? "What is the Right of Conscription?" Her sheltered Alienage life did not provide the most comprehensive knowledge of the world beyond the big, gray walls, so she felt that her ignorance to the conversation was justified.
For a second time, the man's eyes met hers, as though he was trying not to stare directly at her, though he couldn't help it. When he noticed that she had, he looked elsewhere quickly, trying not to offend. "The Gray Wardens can recruit people who are otherwise bound to their fate forcefully because of the Right of Conscription." He paused; another sad expression fell upon the man's face before he continued. "I'm sorry that we were too late to spare you from this."
Vaughan thrashed against the door to his cell, enraged. His piercing eyes befell the human man and the Dalish woman menacingly. "You're sorry for her? She comes in here, kills everyone, and you sympathize with her?" He gripped the bars of his holding cell roughly, causing his knuckles to go white. "That bitch deserves nothing less than what she already has."
Lyna sunk the copper key into the lock on Rhyann's door and gave it a gentle turn. The door swung open, causing the small City Elf to go tumbling out. The dark-haired Dalish woman offered her hand to the girl to help her up from the spill. "I would tell you that you're free to go home, but it's currently impossible to get into the Alienage and you look as though you could eat a Halla." Once that business was taken care of, the woman with the daggers turned back to Vaughan, her eyes blazing with a sinister ferocity. "Just for that, you get to stay in your cell."
Pacing, the Dalish woman seemed to be considering something, and completely ignoring Vaughan's incessant howls of disapproval. Her brows furrowed beneath her ornate markings. She smoothed her hand over her hair as she thought. "Neither of the elves we released are in any condition to fight," she said aloud, voicing what she had been considering, "but they're also in no condition to make it to the Alienage unattended. We have quite the pickle on our hands."
Almost suddenly, a joyful smirk crossed the woman's face, causing Rhyann to become thoroughly confused. She was just happy to be out of her cell, and knew that she would push her weakened body to the limits just to get back home.
"I've got it!" Exclaimed Lyna, her hands clasped together. "Al: you, Misali, Sten, and Neria will take the elves back to Eamon's estate. We'll keep them there until they're healthy enough to return home. I'd feel guilty if either of them didn't make it."
The blonde man seemed displeased with this development. His otherwise concerned face twisted with disappointment in what the Dalish woman had said. "Lyna, though I agree with getting them somewhere safe, I think I should come with." He complained, his honey brown eyes widened hopefully, as though to coax a change of heart out of the woman.
Shaking her head and sighing, Lyna stepped closer to the man. "Alistair, I'm sorry, but my order stands. The Landsmeet is drawing near, and I'd rather avoid muddying up your name with breaking into Howe's Estate and possibly killing him when Eamon has all the intention of putting you on the throne." Her hands found her hips as she spoke to him. She had to crane her neck slightly just to meet his vision.
In the background, Vaughan's disgruntled howls grew. His steely gaze was locked on Rhyann, who had pressed herself into the wall just next to her cell, obviously overwhelmed. "I swear, if you don't release me at this moment, I will reign terror upon you." His vicious growl caused all of the heads in the room to turn to his attention.
However, the only response he received was a guttural chuckle from Lyna. She jingled the keys once again as a taunt, before slipping them back into her pack. "Tough words coming from a man who will be lucky to see the light of day." She looked to Rhyann, a wry smirk gracing her face. "Sweetie, what do you think we should do with this Blighter?" Her thumb jerked in Vaughan's direction as she spoke.
Having the prospect of power frightened Rhyann. Such power was never in her hands, and as she mulled over her vast amounts of decisions, her hands ran through the length of her dirty white hair. Nothing seemed low enough for Vaughan, she rationalized. In her eyes, his crimes were unforgivable, but death was too civilized for him. "Just leave him to rot." Said the girl finally, her voice quivered with every word. "He can be food for the rats."
"What?" Bellowed Vaughan. His anger was tangible on the air. "You would leave my fate to a…a whore? All of you will pay—"
"Shut up!" Screamed Rhyann, her petite hands clasped around her acute ears as the last syllable rolled off of her tongue. Her eyes fastened shut almost instantly after. It terrified her to think of what everyone in the room would think of her outburst. Even more frightening was the looks they were surely giving her. After some time hunched over like that, she dropped her hands back to her sides and opened her eyes, mortified to find that she was now the center of attention. "I'm sorry." She lamented, shyly.
Shock riddled Lyna's face initially, but a slight smile coupled with a giggle soon followed. "Don't apologize for your actions; justify them."
The outburst had taken a lot out of Rhyann. She trembled uncontrollably as her knees knocked together. Soon, the room was spinning, and with her failing legs, just staying upright was a constant struggle. Perspiration accumulated on her forehead and the palms of her hands. Just as soon as she begun to sweat, Rhyann's vision started to go. Blackness encompassed her world as she gripped the wall behind her in desperation. Losing her battle, Rhyann tumbled to the ground, relinquishing her consciousness.