Vladen sighed, "Yes that would be me."

The lead Warden said calm as before, "We'll then you're going to have to follow us."

As the Warden went forward to help Vladen up Vladen waved him away, "I'm not going anywhere." He shook his head, "I'm a legate in the Legion of the Empire of Tamriel, and I take that very serious."

Anders stepped forward and nearly yelled, "Are you insane? You are sick with darkspawn poisoning, and you won't follow the only people here that can help you?"

"How exactly," Vladen cleared his throat, "will they help me?"

The Lead Warden looked as though he was going to say something, but Anders cut in, "By making you partake in the Joining, and becoming a Grey Warden."

The Lead Warden looked upset; Vladen asked, "What is the Joining, what is a Grey Warden, and why in oblivion is there only way to cure this poison."

Before Anders could answer the Lead Warden spoke up, "The Grey Wardens are an ancient organization of warriors of exceptional ability..."

"I like the sound of that!" Vladen cut in.

The Warden cleared his throat, " They are dedicated to fighting darkspawn throughout Thedas. The Grey Wardens are know for ignoring the racial, social, criminal, and national backgrounds of new recruits."

The Warden took another breath, "Despite our small numbers, the Grey Wardens have been instrumental in ending each blight so far, and thus are vital to the survival of the world as a whole."

The Lead Warden would've continued, but Vladen laughed, and his laugh was one of over-amusement. When he stopped and he looked around him he noticed that no one seemed to find the Warden's statement as humorous as he did. With a questioningly voice he asked,

"What?"

The Warden spoke again, "What do you find funny about a plague that has affected Thedas for centuries?"

Vladen somber, "It's not the plague affecting your people that is humorous to me, but the statement about how the Grey Wardens are instrumental in the survival of the world that is funny to me."

The Warden's voice was dripping venom, "Why is that funny."

Vladen smiled, "Because in my homeland of Tamriel we have never heard of you Grey Wardens, and we have had a blight of our own."

"Really?" was the Warden's reply.

Vladen continued, "Yes really. About two hundred years ago in Cyrodiil, the main provenience of Tamriel, there was a Deadric Prince named Mehrunes Dagon, and he was attempting to take over all of Tamriel." Vladen coughed a bit, "He would have succeeded if not for the Champion of Cyrodiil; a young Breton, no more then fifteen summers old, ended that coup. And the thing is, she wasn't a Grey Warden. She was just a farmers Daughter."

The Warden spoke up, "Then it obviously wasn't a Blight."

Vladen laughed, "Oh believe me it was a Blight, but it was so much worse then what I've been told about yours. You have to end the life of an Old God. Wow. The Champion had to enter into the realm of one of the most powerful mages to ever live and kill him—in his own home. Then with only a days rest she, along with the Emperor, had to fight their way into the temple of Akatosh and relight the Dragonfires. Along the way they clashed with hundreds of Dagon's minions."

Vladen took a deep breath and coughed violently, but that couldn't stop his tale, "In the end the Emperor had to sacrifice himself to stop Dagon for good. The Champion however lived on and she married a mage named Raminus Polus, and together they would make many great things happen. However they were killed twenty years later by the Thalmor. The Mages Guild was destroyed. So you see, we have survived without you, and we will continue to do so."

The Warden's voice was cold like ice and hard as steel, "Fine then." The Warden, flanked by the others, turned and left.

Anders could stop himself, "Are you insane! You just sent away the only ones that could cure the disease that flows through your blood! You are going to die now!"

Vladen chucked, "I didn't know you cared...wait, disease?"

"Yes a disease, and it will kill you."

Vladen started to laugh, and Anders shouted, "WHAT IS FUNNY!"

Vladen coughed, "I'll be fine." Vladen then snapped his fingers and a white light was in his hand. When he opened his hand his body was covered in a swirl of white and gold light. Everyone, including Anders, stared at Vladen as the black veins, that showed the darkspawn poison, receded and his skin became less pale. Vladen took a deep breath—without coughing—and stood up erect and stretched,

"Well are we going?"

Hawke waved his hand in the air, "Sure we'll leave...as soon as you tell me what you did! You just cured the darkspawn poisoning without needing the Wardens."

Vladen looked at everyone and sighed, "Well originally I was going to go with the Wardens, but when he said it was a disease I knew I could cure it." Vladen ended with a smile.

"How could you have known that?" Anders' voice was small.

"Ha! I'm the Arch-Mage at the College at Winterhold! Did you think I wouldn't learn a spell as essential as Cure Disease?"

Hawke laughed, "Maker help me...how many things are you?"

Vladen stared at Hawke for a moment before he counted off on his fingers, "First I'm an Imperial Legion Legate, and I have a horrible despise for the Thalmor. Second I'm the Harbinger of the Companions in Whiterun. I just told you I'm the Arch-Mage. I-"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Hawke interrupted, "What are the Companions, what's a Legate, and finally what is a damn Thalmor?"

Vladen sighed, "Right, different country. Anyway; the Companions are a group of the greatest warriors in Skyrim—my home—and I am their Harbinger. Not the boss, but respected."

Hawke nodded, "Legate?"

Vladen continued, "A military rank; It's under a General, but most soldiers do as I order."

Again Hawke nodded, "And the Thalmor?"

Vladen sighed, "I sigh a lot...anyway, I thing I said I wouldn't talk about the Thalmor."

Hawke nodded...again, "You did, but you keep bringing them up, so just tell us."

Vladen sighed again, "Fine. The Thalmor are High Elves out of the Summ—never mind where they're from—and they were at war with our empire, and to get peace the empire had to agree to the terms of the Thalmor; the worship of Talos was to be banned. And they did."

Vladen yawned, "Anyhow, I hate the Thalmor."

Hawke said, "That was an interesting story, but we should go."

"You think?" Varric finally spoke up, "We've been down here way too long for it to be healthy."

Vladen rolled his shoulders and turned toward the passage that would lead them to the surface, "Well then, let's get going."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

\/\/\/\/\/\/

Alyne was walking, and he was in a fine mood. The Dalish accepted Feynriel after his tale, and even sent them away with Iron-Bark—some form of wood strong as steel they said. Amatia and Arinis just shook their heads at their Elven leader.

"Alyne," Amatia called, "what are we going to do now?"

Alyne looked over his shoulder, "You guys are going back to the ship, and I am going to find Vladen and see if I can convince him to take the situation a little more serious like."

"Ha!" Arinis barked, "good luck."

Amatia laughed lightly, "Good luck indeed."

Alyne just kept walking, "Shut up."

/\/\/\/\/\/\

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