Chapter 6: Ebost Issala Tal-Vashoth!
Diala didn't see the point of all this. She was going to die anyways, and Bodahn wasn't going be able to get a single red copper from her body, no matter how much he imagined she was worth. Her time had come, and delaying it by coming to the surface on some fool's errand to find the stone-damned Wardens wasn't going to change a thing. Ah, well. At least surface ale tasted good. It was like father always said: "you have to blow off the dust to find the vein of silver". Father. She hoped he was okay. She didn't miss Orzammar, but by Ancestors did she miss her father.
"You good there, Dee?" Mayrin asked a swaying Diala. His deep blue eyes showed more kindness than she had been raised to expect from a casteless, and more than most of the nobles she'd ever met.
"Yeah. I mean, other than the nausea, dizziness and burning feeling in my entire body. Really, this slow wasting away is so much better than dying a good death in the Deep Roads."
"Don't worry, Princess! We'll find the Grey Wardens soon!" Bodahn said for what seemed like the hundredth time.
"For the last time, Bodahn I'm not a Princess! Sod Orzammar and its politics." She felt the pent up rage from since her exile bubbling inside her. "And you know what, Bodahn?! Sod the Grey Wardens! They're all dead now anyways!" Diala was standing now, and all of Dane's Refuge was looking at the crazy pale dwarf and her compatriots. "And for that matter, sod the surface and sod the darkspawn and sod the taint and, most of all, sod you, you stupid, smooth-talking deepstalker! You should've let me die in the Deep Roads! You— You should've let me die with honor, dammit…" she said, quieter.
"Well exca-use me," came a cultured voiced voice from the entrance. "I think we're pretty great. And if I do say so myself, we don't look half-bad for dead people."
Diala and her compatriots looked to see two well-armed individuals enter the tavern. One was human and had dirty blonde hair, a nice stubble and tan skin. He was wearing heavy Grey Warden armor and had a silverite blade and shield of fine make on his back. He was fairly well-muscled, and even handsome… For a human, that is. The thing behind him was another matter entirely. Having to duck as not to hit its massive horns on the doorway, its form towered over everyone in the Refuge. It had grey skin and violet eyes, and was also wearing Grey Warden heavy armor with a helmet that had been modified to fit around its horns. At it carried a longsword on either hip, and gave its compatriot a playful smack on the head after his comment.
An angry-looking man in fine armor stepped forward and said: "Well, look what we have here, men. I think we have just been blessed."
Diala looked over at Mayrin to see he already had his handaxe out, and Diala grabbed her sword too. If the legends were to be believed, the Wardens wouldn't need help, but Diala hadn't killed anything in a long time.
Enid was confused, to say the least. Last she could remember, she was at that mirror with Tamlen, and now? Cut off from the clan with Merrill, traveling with a flat-ear and a shemlen mage, and, if the dreams were to be believed, she was a Grey Warden? She took a deep breath and took in her surroundings, appreciating the fresh air. The shemlen village had cold, stone, buildings, to be sure, but she was quite impressed with vast open space and surrounding farmlands. Those shemlen, at least, understood and respected the land.
"So that… monster? That was the archdemon?" the 18-year-old Enid asked upon waking, her stoic voice betraying none of the fear she felt inside.
"It was. Or is, rather. That's why Grey Wardens exist. We fight the Blight, wherever and however we can," the flat-ear explained. Until now, only him and Merrill had spoken, while the shemlen witch just regarded her curiously.
"So… I can't go back to the clan?" she asked, instinctively tying her straight hair chestnut brown hair into a ponytail.
"Technically, you could," the flat-ear said uncertainly, "but truth be told, we need all the help we can get."
"And even if we were not indebted to these Grey Wardens, the Keeper took the clan north to Sundermount."
"We, Merrill? They saved my life, not yours'. You need not stay with me."
"Need? No, I suppose not, but I will, I think. Where else would I go? Could you imagine me navigating human society alone?" she responded, chuckling at the thought.
"Then I suppose it is settled," Enid said, sitting up on the grass. "I swear to you before my First and all my Creators that I will do my best to uphold the will of Mythal and do my duty to protect you— and all the land— from the Blight, and make the Dalish proud," Enid said with conviction in her blue eyes.
"The oath is unnecessary, but appreciated, Enid. We're just happy to have you— and Merrill— along for the ride," Rayne said before ducking his head and holding his hands over it when he heard a bee buzz by his ears, only yelping slightly.
At that point, Morrigan scoffed scornfully, rolling her eyes.
"I understand you are to thank for saving me," Enid said. "Might I ask your name, so I can thank you properly?"
"You may call me Morrigan, if you must."
Hearing her voice caused something of an epiphany in the young Dalish warrior.
"Well… thank you, Morrigan. I— I know you from somewhere, don't I?"
"Possibly."
"No, no, I do. We've met; I swear."
Rolling her eyes, Morrigan admitted reluctantly: "'Tis true, but 'twas many years ago. I am surprised you remember."
"You were one of the only shemlen I ever saw growing up. Even if you seldom visited, and only watched me from the trees, your golden eyes are not something I'd soon forget. Why did you stop visiting?"
"I grew up, and stopped caring about such frivolous things."
"Frivolous things like my life? You didn't think it was so frivolous yesterday. Why did you save me then?" Enid teased.
Morrigan stood up from the greenery and started towards the Dane's Refuge and turned back for a moment, regaining all of the composure Enid was causing to slip. "'Twas to spite my mother, elf. Not everything is about you, as much as you Dalish like to believe otherwise."
"Don't believe her," Rayne whispered to Enid. "She cares, in her own weird Morrigan way. At least, she cares about you more than the rest of us combined, which isn't necessarily saying a lot…"
"Her mother? Why does she hate her mother so much? Is that a human thing?" Merrill asked as Morrigan left.
"You would, too, if your mother was Flemeth," Rayne responded. "Or, if Brother Genitivi spelled it correctly, your people call her… Achoo… No… Asha'Bellanar."
"What?!"
"More crazy? I thought we were all full up," the male Warden said when the one with the horns agreed to let the Chantry sister join them.
"I hope there's no quota on that, salroka," Mayrin shouted as he walked down the stairs, "because I've got a deal you just can't refuse!"
"Is that so?" he reponded, amused with the offer. "What can you offer me? A lifetime supply of cheese? A dozen mabari?"
Momentarily flummoxed by the Grey Warden's flippancy, Mayrin snapped out of it to pick up right where he left off. "Even better!" Mayrin promised, reminding himself that he'd also have to watch what his mouth was doing during this pitch. He still wasn't used to not having a beard to cover it. Made schmoozing just a little bit harder. "I can offer you two Grey Warden recruits, your own personal enchanter, and a fine and upstanding dwarven merchant! But wait, that's not even the best part! On our travels, we came across a control rod for a golem, an indestructible dwarven weapon of old, located right here in Ferelden." Diala snickered at that bit about Bodahn, but Mayrin didn't blame her. He was laying it on a little thick.
"Two, Mr. Brosca?" Bodahn whispered, annoyed, clearly not wanting to give his best employee to the Wardens. Well, that's what he got for giving Diala fancy armour for free but telling Mayrin he'd have to "earn" his, like he hadn't already. Mayrin had no reason to stay loyal, and there wasn't a thing Feddic could do about it.
"What's the catch?" the grey one asked, raising her eyebrows skeptically and crossing her arms.
"Catch? There isn't one. Well, not really. All we need is a cure for the blight sickness, and we will be at your service."
"I think that sounds wonderful! Dwarves have the most experience fighting darkspawn. They will be an asset, no?" the Chantry sister contributed.
"Leliana, I'm happy you're taking initiative, but you literally just joined us," Mercy said, apparently not able to decide whether she was annoyed or amused. "I'll be making the decisions around here. That being said…" the qunari continued, turning back to the dwarves. "Yeah, she's right. Come with me; we'll get you your cure immediately. This is a Blight, and we need all the help we can get."
"Perhaps. What does your wisdom say is equal to my crime?" the qunari asked.
"You could help me defend the land against Blight."
"The Blight? Are you a Grey Warden then?"
"I am."
"Surprising. My people have heard legends of the Grey—"
And then everything changed. The caged qunari had been nothing but calm so far, but immediately roared and started shaking the bars of his cage.
"Whoa!" Rayne yelped, jumping backwards and nearly falling onto his bottom. "What's wrong, big guy?"
"Is this normal for qunari to do? Maybe this is his language. Oh! I wonder if we could learn it! Ahh! Raaahhh! Grrr!" Merrill contributed excitedly. Garahel, Rayne's new mabari, barked in agreement.
"I think that's my fault, Merrill," Mercy called out, walking towards them with Alistair and Morrigan. And four dwarves and a Chantry sister?
Rayne's wisp reacted to the female dwarf the same way it had to Enid. She was tainted, but looking at her, you couldn't tell. Not like Enid. It was likely that her dwarven constitution was a contributing factor, but her sheer force of will no doubt had more to do with it. She was tough and powerful-looking despite her stature, and wore fine dwarven armor full of hard geometric lines and intricate runes. On her back was a dwarven greatsword as tall as she was, and her shoulder-length blonde hair flowed freely, framing her pale skin and deep brown eyes very well. The other armed companion wore dwarven armor as well, but nowhere near as expensive as her's. He had much darker skin, and short curly black hair. A black tattoo sat underneath each of his deep blue eyes, and his beard was short, frankly, pathetic compared to the beards Rayne saw illustrated in codices back at the tower.
"Ebost issala tal-vashoth!" Sten screamed in a language none of them understood, rattling the bars of his cage so much Rayne was concerned they would break.
"Shanedan, sten," Mercy responded calmly. "And I'm just vashoth, not tal-vashoth. I was born outside of your precious qun," she added, smiling.
"Vashedan," Sten responded, nearly spitting the word at Mercy.
"Thanks, buddy," Mercy said, walking right up to him and standing a few inches above the already-gigantic creature. The two stared at each other, saying nothing, before Rayne broke the silence.
"A few seconds ago, you were ready to follow bas, even bas sarebaas, in order to seek your atonement. Yet you cannot follow a forthright soldier who has lived as a good Fereldan citizen her entire life, someone who cannot be blamed for rejecting the qun if she never learned about it in the first place?"
"You speak sense Warden, but I cannot follow her. It is not done."
"Asala," Mercy said, the realization dawning on her. Sten said nothing.
"What? I'm sorry, Mercy, but I'm a bit lost here," Alistair said.
"So am I, but don't worry. This is so fascinating!" Merrill added.
"Sten. So you were part of the antaam, were you not?"
"I still am."
"But you aren't, are you? Not without your sword. You're not even qunari anymore. Unless it's hiding somewhere in your cage…"
"What? He's a qunari all the time, isn't he?" Enid asked, honestly more than a bit confused by all of this.
"Not right now. He's soulless. A deserter. Even if you accomplish whatever your arishok sent you to do, you cannot report back."
"What is your point, bas?"
"Bas now? Interesting. What if I promised you we'd find asala? To give you back your soul? Would that be a satisfactory reason to follow a vashoth?"
"Such a thing cannot be promised," Sten said, pausing for a moment. "However, it speaks well of you to make the offer. Very well, Warden, I will follow you. For now."
