That the guard to the Dalish camp greeted them rather than filling them with arrows was a good sign, or so Marlana kept telling herself as her party was escorted to the Keeper of the clan. She hoped that this Keeper meant it was their leader, or at least someone who could direct them to the leader, no one knew much of the Dalish, not even Zev who had spent some time with a clan. He told her what he could remember, but it was scanty enough. She was aware of just how well her little menagerie was going to go over with the reclusive wanderers. When she saw the tense expressions on the faces of the Dalish, she wondered what mess they were going to have to clean up. There was the expected hostility at the sight of humans, but there was also something else that caused her to wonder what they stepped in this time.

Since she didn't sense any immediate presence of darkspawn corruption, Marlana decided it was something that wasn't Blight related. Though in the distance she could feel the presence of the monsters, but they were far enough away that it was just a nebulous feeling. When she commented on it to Alistair, he gave her an odd look before he told her he couldn't feel them. The guide-guard had already led them to an older, bald elf whose facial tattoos had faded with time. She introduced Marlana as a Grey Warden before returning to her post. She seemed eager to be away, not that the Warden blamed her, the female Warden wasn't particularly looking forward to this meeting.

He spoke abruptly, clearly impatient to get the "pleasantries" over with, "Now, allow me to introduce myself. I am Zathrian, the Keeper of this clan, its guide and preserver of our ancient lore. And you are?"

"Marlana, it's a pleasure to meet you", she said, striving to be as polite as possible as she gave the Keeper a slight bow. Not far off she could see what seemed to be an infirmary, a very full infirmary. So she was right about the elves being tense over more than a few humans and the other non-desirables. Fantastic.

Zathrian seemed surprised at her courtesy, his next words only confirmed it, "Manners? From a shemlen? How interesting. Since you're a Grey Warden, I presume you are here about the Blight."

She listened in silence as the Keeper explained that his clan was not in any position to be able to honor the treaty. She mentally sighed, really, with the way her life had been this past year, why should be surprised that it wouldn't be easy to get the elves' assistance? Alistair simply voiced her internal opinion when he made a sarcastic quip, "Yes, it seems like you have had your own troubles. What are the odds?"

Still silent, Marlana and Alistair walked along with the elf to the infirmary, leaving the others behind to wait. She couldn't help but feel disbelief as he spoke of werewolves ambushing the clan as they entered the forest a month ago. Werewolves. Even more fantastic. Studying the warriors that were in the throes of the terrible fever they went through as the curse coursed through them, and being who she was, offered freely, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He gave her that look that drove her insane, the one that every person had given her at one time or another since her family was destroyed and she became a Warden, if they didn't outright ask instead of staring at her. The look of "what kind of freak are you?" She may have become a monster in the past year, but it didn't mean she could just stand by and let horrible things happen to people. Of course most humans didn't include elves in their definition of people, but her family always had. Doubly so in her opinion after dealing with Zevran and the few other elves that she'd met that were actually willing to talk to her.

Impatiently she huffed at the man, "I know, I know, I'm an evil shem, or whatever that term is. And yes, I did mean it when I offered to help. It's part of what I do."

Zathrian didn't say anything as he slowly walked back to his aravel, considering the offer that had been made, "What do you want in return? Besides honoring the treaty of course."

He stepped back in shock as those previously calm blue eyes suddenly blazed with icy rage, "I did not make that offer for hope of reward. I offered because you need help and I'm in the position to do so. The Blight drove me here, yes. Had I heard of your problems and knew you would accept outside help, I would have offered it anyway."

It was interesting to see the big, blond shem step up to her side, heavily place a hand on her shoulder. That fierce gaze didn't turn away from Zathrian, but he saw her relax slightly and one hand went up and settled on the male's. The Keeper sighed before speaking hesitantly, clearly still not believing the small woman, "Within the Forest is a great wolf, one we call Witherfang. From him came the curse and his blood has continued it. If the beast can be slain and his heart brought back to me, perhaps I can end the curse."

Those sharp blue eyes bore into him, yet the voice sounded disturbingly mild, "Perhaps?"

He shrugged helplessly, "There is no guarantee, I only suspect it might work, but it's the only hope my people have."

She nodded her understanding, "We will do what we can."

"Just keep in mind, Warden, the Brecilian Forest has more threat than werewolves. Its history is full of carnage and murder."

Marlana sighed, "Let me guess, it's thinned the Veil and all manner of demons tend to slip through."

Zathrian didn't bother to hide his surprise at her knowledge, "Indeed, forgive me, but I didn't expect you to have such knowledge."

Her lips thinned slightly in memory of the Circle and Soldier's Peak, as well as other minor places where the Veil had been worn thin or outright torn open, "Wouldn't be the first time. I just hope there aren't any powerful sloth or pride demons."

He studied this odd…human again. He couldn't call her a shemlen, even after this brief conversation with her. This…Marlana reminded him of someone, but he couldn't place who. Her spirit seemed too great to be confined in such a delicate form when he realized just how small she was. There were quite a few elven women in his clan who were taller and had more mass than she did. Trying to give a courtesy he'd never bothered for with a human, he inclined his head slightly, "Forgive me, Warden, but if you'll excuse me, I need to see to my people. My First Lanaya will be able to assist you, the same with the clan storyteller, Sarel."

She bowed back, "Of course. I appreciate your time, Keeper."

Fortunately, Lanaya was easily found and unlike the rest of the clan, seemed eager to talk. Marlana found herself relaxing around the elven woman who was Zathrian's second in command and the two began to talk amiably. Except for Alistair and Shale (who seemed to consider the camp a mobile ant colony), the others drifted away, curious about the Dalish despite themselves and since the Keeper had been polite, the rest of the clan seemed to be taking his lead. Her remaining companions remained silent as a human and a Dalish began the tentative steps to trying to understand each other.

Walking away, Lana couldn't help but smile. The conversation had been awkward in spots (in particular after being told a poem comparing humans to dragons), but she found she liked the elven First. She hoped the other woman felt the same way and hoped that maybe once the Blight was over she would be able to meet with Lanaya again to see if there was a possibility of peace between their people.

Those hopes faded when she saw Leliana quickly stomping angrily away from the campfire of the storyteller. The sneer on the man's face drew her ire, but rather than show anger, she simply mimicked what she called "Alistair's Imperial Eyebrow of Doom". The man hastily looked away. Leliana looked angry enough to spit, so the Warden quickly drew her friend to the side, "Okay, Leli, that's the first time I've seen you angry enough to kill someone in public. What's going on? Other than the Dalish being Dalish?"

Listening to the bard curse in Orlesian, Lana leaned against a nearby tree with her arms folded over her chest to let her friend work it out of her system. Once Leli settled down, Marlana finally got the story out of the other woman. Not surprisingly the older woman had gone to talk with the clan storyteller for information. Unfortunately his idea of "playing nice" was to disguise a lecture of how every human being was a horrible monster in a story. Of the Dales and the Exalted March. Lana grimaced, she personally found it horrifying, as did Leliana. But Leli tried to grit her teeth to get past it hoping she'd get some information from him about the Forest. Instead he just kept getting more and more obnoxious, even some of the hunters that were there had objected to his attitude.

Tiredly, Marlana rubbed her forehead. She hadn't expected the Dalish to welcome them with open arms, the cold courtesy that she'd gotten from Zathrian had been far better than she expected. And Lanaya's friendliness was something far beyond any of her hopes. She'd just been grateful that they hadn't gotten feathered as soon as they approached the camp. And now Leliana, normally the most diplomatic of the lot, had set off one of the more important people of the clan judging the remarks Zathrian had made about the storyteller. Hoping the rest of the group hadn't pissed anyone else off, she gestured for Alistair and Leli to follow her as she collected the others.

When she didn't find Oghren right away, she started to get worried, since she found all the others easily enough. There wasn't any yelling, yet, but Maker only knew what kind of trouble the dwarven warrior could get into without supervision. She heard his distinctive chortle first and followed the sound of it, hoping that the trouble wasn't too bad. Rounding the side of an aravel, she stopped dead to marvel. There was her wayward berserker, holding forth in a circle of elven hunters, they all had mugs of something, and judging by their faces, starting to get fairly inebriated. Except Oghren, of course, he was clearly just getting warmed up. And telling stories, with sound effects.

Stories about their trip in the Deep Roads, and Marlana in particular. Just lovely. Gesturing broadly without spilling a drop from his tankard the dwarf continued on with his story, oblivious to the additional members of his audience, one of whom folded her arms across her chest and glowered at the back of his head. He sounded absurdly cheerful, "Shoulda seen the lass, she just climbed up that quivering pile of diseased flesh like it was some sorta mountain while she was screaming out some of the most ferocious warcries I ever heard from someone as delicate looking. Then she clear took off its head, one of the finest sights I ever saw in a battle."

She couldn't believe how he was describing that horrific fight with the broodmother. Marlana hadn't been yelling warcries, she'd been screaming in absolute terror. Alistair had the basic decency to lower the visor of his helm to hide his expression, the rest of the party didn't, they were clearly snickering at her expense. Even Oogie. One of the elves pointed a wavering finger at her, "Hey? Ish tha her?"

Oghren turned around and beamed, "Marlana! Great timing, pull up a bench, have a drink. I've been telling my new friends about our travels."

"Er, Oghren, we really should get going, there's things we need to be dealing with."

"Ah, there's plenty of time to deal with some mangy fleabags. These folk want to talk to a real Grey Warden."

Despite the helm, she could hear Alistair laughing at the situation, the beast. Deciding to get even, "You know, Alistair has been a Warden for longer than me."

There was a muffled "Hey" while Oghren snorted, "Yeah, yeah, I know the little pike-twirler is. But he's not the one who kills broodmothers by climbing them and beheading 'em, or headbutting an ogre in the stones before gutting them."

She could feel the slow blush growing on her face, she didn't think anyone had seen that particular tactic. But it was literally right on top of her and her blades were stuck in a dead Hurlock at the moment. "Reeaally now," Alistair drawled sounding amused, "I wondered about the high pitched noise it made. Now, that particular fight makes sense."

Not wanting to get embarrassed by any more stories, she leaned down and grabbed one of the braids Oghren kept his beard in and tugged. Hard. "Up and at 'em tough guy. We've got werewolves and Maker knows what else to deal with."

"Sodding women, you're all alike. Never any time for fun", the dwarf grumbled. Ignoring the grumbles from her companions, Marlana very determinedly made the others head out. There were a few protests amongst the hunters, but most of them had passed out from drinking with Oghren. Shaking her head, hoping that no one else had caused any incidents before she retrieved them, Marlana led the way out of the camp and into the Forest.