Chapter 3: My Brother the Templar
Alim wanted to hate Alistair.
He did, he truly honestly did, but he just…just couldn't do it.
Any man who could be that snarky to a senior enchanter of the circle was someone who had earned his respect.
Not that Alistair had not tried to earn his ire; the first few words out of his mouth had done that.
"So tell me," the former Templar had said, have you ever encountered Darkpawn before?"
"No I haven't," the mage had answered taking off his hat and shaking his head, "Have you?"
Alistair had not responded, he was too busy… staring.
"Alistair," the mage had repeated.
Still the man said nothing.
Alim sighed; he knew what the warden was staring at.
"It is the ears isn't it," he asked.
N-no…I wasn't staring at your ears, you have nothing to ears…I mean fear…I said fear."
Alim shook his head, he sooo, did not need this.
"Oooh-kay Alistair," he said with a sigh, "Let's get this out of the way before we go any further. I get it, I have big ears and I' m short, any jokes those lines let hear them now. That way we can get this out of the way and get down to business."
I didn't mean it," Alistair apologized, "I just had a little; I mean I made a mistake. No more joking ear…I mean here."
Alim growled in the back of his throat, Alistair was very fortunate that Irving had trained the elf to control his temper, if he had not…
Alistair would likely have ended up being cooked by a lightning bolt.
Fortunately, Alim did not do that anymore.
"Please don't turn me into a toad," Alistair said weakly.
A small smirk spread across the elf's face, "No promises…sorry." He turned and left.
Alistair followed after him, offering a quick prayer to the Maker.
Hopefully Alim was not the type to hold a grudge.
IOI
The two made their way through the army camp, now Alim was no military strategist, but even he was impressed by the size and strength of the force that surrounded him.
Maybe they could do it after all; maybe…just maybe…the blight could end here.
Many of the soldiers kept giving Alim strange looks, the elf shook his head.
What…had they never seen a mage before?
Of course, Alistair had not thought that he looked like a mage the first time they had met either.
Believe me Alistair," the mage grumbled, "I don't dress like this for my health," he said pointing to his bright yellow robes.
It seemed no matter what happened to today, people were just bound and determined to get on his bad side.
At least his day could not get any worse, right now all he wanted to do was track down his fellow recruits and get on with the joining ritual.
"Greetings, you must be one of the new Grey Wardens…will you receive the Maker's blessing."
Alim turned; he was being greeted by a chantry sister.
His day had just gotten worse, he tried to remain calm, but it wasn't easy.
"You administer to elves do you," he asked sweetly.
"I will administer the Maker's blessing to whoever will receive him," the woman replied smiling serenely.
"And if you don't your soldiers burn down your homeland, and strip away your language, your culture, everything."
"I have no desire to argue politics," the chantry sister frowned, "be gone heathen."
Alim smiled at her, "it was pleasant to meet you too."
Alistair just stood there gawking.
"I can't believe you just did that?"
"Did what?" Alim asked.
"I…you…" Alistair just shook his head, "Never mind…forget it."
"Already done," the elf said smirking.
Alistair shook his head. Alim wasn't an elf; he wasn't even a mage…
He was a storm, rolling through the camp.
Alistair could not decide if that was a good thing or a bad one.
One thing that was for certain, he almost felt sorry for the darkspawn now…
Almost.
Alim paused, something had caught his eye. He moved towards the center of the camp. Alistair trailing after him.
"Alim wait, we…we have to find the others."
"In a minute Alistair," the elf replied, "Ser…excuse me ser," he called out.
He was addressing the Kennel Master; the man looked up at the small elf approaching him.
"Greetings," the man replied, "Is there something I can do for you warden."
"That Mabari there," he asked, "why have you separated him from the others?"
The man gave the dog a sad look, it whimpered weakly in its cage; its brown eyes were cloudy with pain.
"The poor fellow," the kennel master purred, "his owner died in the last battle, and he swallowed darkspawn blood. I have medicine that may help, but I need to muzzle him first."
"Can I help," Alim asked, "I…I have a little experience with working with dogs."
"And as a warden you're immune to the darkspawn taint," the man nodded, "All you have to fear is some tooth marks."
"Well I'm not a warden yet," Alim confessed, "but I will help, if I can?"
The man nodded, letting the mage pass.
Alistair kept his distance; he had never been very good with dogs.
Alim however, was not that way.
He whispered softly to the sick animal, it looked up at him with pain in its eyes, but it did back down from its aggressive stance. Slowly carefully Alim approached it, he let the dog smell him as he slipped the muzzle over its snout, the dog whimpered, but did not try to attack the elf.
He gave the animal a pleased sigh, and left its cage.
"You wouldn't happen to be heading into the wilds anytime soon would you," the kennel master asked.
"I don't know," Alim admitted, "Maybe."
"Well, there is a flower there that might improve the dog's chances; it is bright white with a blood red center. If you could retrieve it…."
Alim nodded, "I will look for it if I can, I promise."
"Thank you warden," the master replied.
Alim nodded and returned to Alistair.
The former Templar was awe-struck.
"What," the mage asked.
"What was that?"
The elf smiled wanly, it had been many years since he had seen a mabari, but there was a time when the dogs in the Bann's kennels were his only friends.
It was funny, if not for his magic; he would happily have spent his life caring for them…
Sadly, that was not meant to be.
"My Father," Alim said, "he was Kennel Master for the Bann of Lothering, I grew up around dogs. Always had a soft spot for them I guess. Come on; let's go find the others, "Alim hurried on up the steps leading to the hospital tent.
Alistair had said he had seen Ser Jory there earlier.
Alistair did not know what to make of the young elf, on one hand he was snarky and about two seconds away from going off on someone…
Then he had done what he had with that dog.
Who would have guessed that the angry little mage had a soft side?
Same person, two entirely different sides of that person, Alistair could not help but wonder what else the mage was hiding.
It would be interesting to find out.
IOI
The Korcari Wilds was not the most pleasant of places Alim had ever been, of course this was also the first time in years that Alim had been able to truly immerse himself in the natural world.
The elf could feel the power in this place, the life that flowed from every living thing, but that life was sickening, the very presence of the darkspawn was destroying this place. He could feel it in the wind and in the ground beneath his feet.
These creatures were not just monsters, they were a walking disease, and the natural world was suffering from them being here on the surface, Alim could feel it.
Sadly nature was not the only thing dying here.
"Step aside," Alim growled, "All of you!"
Alistair, Daveth and Ser Jory got out of the mage's way, he stared down at the injured soldier they had found, the man's patrol had been attacked by darkspawn.
The creatures were now dead, their blood used to fill the vials the three recruits needed to complete their joinings.
All that remained was finding those old treaties that Duncan wanted. Once they had helped this soldier anyway.
Alim held up his hands, blue energy flowed from his fingertips.
The injured man's eyes widened in fear.
"Stay away from me knife-ear," the soldier gasped, trying to crawl away from the mage.
"I don't like that word," he elf snorted, "you need to be healed or you will bleed to death, now stay still."
The man whimpered, but surrendered himself to the mage's touch, the deep gash on his leg and chest closed.
Alistair said he could not sense the taint inside the soldier, which meant that he would survive at least.
Alim wasn't sure how Alistair could be so sure about that, but chalked it up to being a Grey Warden thing,
Alim wasn't able to heal the man completely, by the work he had done made it possible for Alistair to bind the man's wounds. The former Templar it seemed did have some useful skills.
Unlike his fellow recruits.
Daveth was a pickpocket Duncan had picked up in Denerim, not the kind of person Alim would expect to join the wardens, but what did he know. The man was fast with a blade, and decent with a bow, Alim could respect that.
Ser Jory was the type of person that Alim usually chose to avoid. He looked at him as a lesser because he was an elf, and was clearly afraid when he heard that Alim was a mage. The man may have won a grand tourney in Highever, but he wasn't the type of man that Alim would want to have watching his back.
Of course the trip into the wilds was not completely wasted; he had managed to find that flower the Kennel Master had needed.
Now he just had to keep from strangling Jory and everything would be back to neat.
"Did you hear," the knight blubbered, "I full company of men killed by darkpawn."
"Calm down Ser Jory," Alistair said trying to reassure the man, "We will be fine as long as we are careful."
"Those soldiers were careful and they were still overwhelmed," than man continued.
"These dangers are part of our test Jory," Alim told the man, "So deal with it mister I won the grand melee."
"Not that you have much to worry about Lim," Daveth, cackled, "You're so short the spawn will likely not see you.
Alim's eyes narrowed, lightning crackled in the mage's hand, "You really do not want to go there Daveth…trust me."
The cutpurse turned to Alistair for help.
"You shouldn't say such things Daveth," Alistair cautioned him, "Alim is…sensitive about his height."
"I am not," the elf growled.
Thunder rumbled overhead.
Alim took a deep breath and counted to ten, he would not fry any of his fellow wardens…at least he would try not to fry any of them.
"Let's just keep going," Alim groused, "The sooner we find those treaties the sooner we can get out of this stinking swamp."
Alim hurried off towards an old sunken tower, according to Alistair, the warden tower was somewhere beyond it.
Provided the former Templar did not get them lost…
Again.
IOI
To Alim it seemed like they were running around in circles, but somehow they did manage to find the tower ruin where the Grey Warden treaties were supposed to be held.
The darkspawn continued to harass them the entire time. Alistair and Jory did their best to keep the creatures back. Alim and Daveth stayed in the back covering the others with arrows, and electrical bolts.
Alim called on the wind, asking it to blow harder, knocking the various genlock and hurlocks off balance. Air was one of the more fickle elements to work with, but it seemed to understand the danger the darkspawn posed, it gladly smashed the creatures against the trees and crumbling ruins scattered throughout the wilds.
Finally the managed to fight their way to the tower.
Alim searched for the chest and it's all important treaties, promises of support made to the Grey Wardens long ago, Duncan had called them.
Sadly they would not be finding them here…
The chest was empty.
Alim cursed under his breath, so much for finishing up there joining.
"Well, well, what have we here?"
The voice was low and sultry, the four wardens turned to face its source.
Alim's eyes widened, it seemed that flowers and animals were not the only beautiful thing in this place.
It was a woman, a human woman, she pale skinned with dark hair and amber eyes. She was dressed in a set of ragged robes, barely; her top was cut so low that Alim could almost see her breasts.
The woman crackled with danger, her eyes flashed inviting them to either attack her or surrender to her.
But there was more to her than that, Alim could feel the magic crackling around her.
That made her either a chasind shaman, or perhaps a witch, one of the legendary witches of the wilds perhaps.
The others were clearly terrified of her, even Alistair.
"Don't answer her," the former Templar cautioned, "she looks chasind, and that means that others might be nearby."
"Ooh," the woman laughed, "you fear that barbarians will swoop down upon you?"
"Yes," Alistair said suspiciously, "Swooping is…baaad!"
"She is a witch of the wilds she is," Daveth jabbered in panic, "She will turn us all in to toads!"
"Witch of the Wilds," the woman tsked, "such fantastic tales those legends, do you have no minds of your own," she faced Alim with a predatory smile, "You there," she purred, "elves don't scare like little boys, especially elves with magic," she said grinning, "Tell me your name and I will tell you mine."
Alim smiled, if this dark haired beauty wanted to play, he was more than willing to play along.
""I'm Alim dear woman," He said bowing respectfully, taking his hat off to her, "A pleasure to meet you."
"Well that is a civil greeting Master Elf," the woman giggled, amused by him, "Even here in the wilds."
She approached him, offering him her hand.
He took it and kissed her knuckle respectfully.
She smiled hungrily.
"It is a pleasure to meet you …Alim. You…may call me Morrigan."