The first thing Sereda did when she reached Redcliffe was heading over to Dwyn's house, who indeed had survived the attack on the village. Sten stood by her side as they entered into his house.
Dwyn looked up when they entered. "What do you want?"
"I'm looking for the qunari sword you bought," said Sereda.
Dwyn raised an eyebrow. "Now, why would you be interested in that?"
Sten looked down at the dwarf with a fixed gaze. "It's mine," he said.
Dwyn sighed. "You know, Faryn didn't mention the giant he took it from was alive."
"Why don't you give up the sword and we'll go?" Sereda suggested.
"Excellent idea. It in my strongbox. Here's the key. Now why don't you leave me alone?" said Dwyn giving her the key.
Together she and Sten went over to Dwyn strongbox. She placed the key in the hall and unlocked it and there they found a beautiful greatsword just lying there.
"Strange," said Sten as he picked the sword up. "I had almost forgotten it. Completion." He then looked at Sereda in curiosity. "Are you sure you are a Grey Warden? I think you must be an ashkaari to find a single loss played in a country at war."
"You're welcome, Sten," said Sereda.
"I would thank you for this, if I knew how. And I could deliver I'm much more satisfying answer to the arishok's question if the Blight were ended, don't you agree?"
Sereda was slightly surprised. "So you're staying, then?"
"I am one of the Berresaasd. I have never abandoned the field with the battle unmet."
Sereda smiled at the qunari. "I'm glad to have you, Sten."
"Indeed, it isn't every Grey Warden who has his own beresaad. I will see you reach the archdemon. Lead the way."
The next morning, both Theron and Daylen had returned and it was quite the unusual sight. Theron had a new sword, it was made from a metal Sereda had never seen before it shone like the stars and its blade look as if it could cut just about through anything.
Daylen on the other hand will looked quite worst for wear. His robes were smouldering, his hair look like it been on fire and his face was covered in ash.
"What happened to you?" said Faren when he saw Daylen. "It looks as if you tangled with a High Dragon."
"You're not far off," said Daylen. "Now if you don't mind I have something to discuss with Morrigan."
They watched as he went to find Morrigan, much to their puzzlement. Sereda then turned her eyes upon Theron.
"Where did you get that sword?" she asked.
"On my way to Soldier's Peak I found this crater with an unusual metal inside it and when I reached Soldier's Peak one of Levi cousins forged it into a blade calling the metal I found was star metal," said Theron.
They all gasped. Star metal had to be the rarest metal in the entire world and to Sereda knowledge no one had made a blade from it.
"Say hello to Starfang," said Theron presenting the sword.
Daylen wandered through the council until we found Morrigan, who were quite relieved to see that he was alive and well.
"You have returned from the Wilds… alive. What news have you?" she asked.
"Flemeth is dead. You're free," said Daylen smiling.
Morrigan was totally speechless. "Dead…? You actually managed it? I barely dared to hope 'twas even possible. And the real grimoire? Did you find it?"
He then removed the grimoire from his bag and presented it to Morrigan, who stared at it in awe. "Ah, Mother's real grimoire is it?" She then looked at him. "I am glad that you were able to find it after all, my thanks for retrieving it. I shall begin studying it immediately and unlocked the power it holds."
"So Flemeth is dead. What now?"
"Now I have enough time to study mother's grimoire to find a way to prevent her from stealing my body in the future. For she will be back. One day, I have no doubt of that and if I cannot protect myself one day I will track her down again in whatever body she inhabits and she will die again and again and again if need be." She then gave him a seductive look. "Now how best to reward you."
Daylen leaning closer. "I can think of a few suggestions."
"Then why don't you show me about."
Elissa was listening to any reports that came from Highever, apparently the people there were not too pleased about the new Teyrn, especially when they got wind of Elissa being alive and well.
Then Alistair came in and sat down opposite her.
"Elissa?"
She turned to see Alistair. "Yes?"
"You know, I've been thinking…"
She started to make a smart remark, and then caught something in his eyes. "What have you been thinking about?"
"Back when we left Goldanna's, you told me I needed to look out for myself more than I do. I'm beginning to think you were right. I need to stop letting everyone else make decisions for me. I need to take a stand and think about myself for a change, or I'm never going to be happy."
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Don't let me influence you, Alistair."
"No, what you said made sense. You were right. I should be looking out for myself more." He smiled and then he frowned. "Or did not understand you?"
Elissa shook her head. "No, but you don't have to do what I say."
"I don't have to do it, I want to. What you said made sense. I should have done this a long time ago." He smiled. "I just wanted to thank you. Being with you is the one bright spot out of everything that's happened."
"I feel the same way." She wrapped her arms around him, and he held her for a moment. "I don't know if you've noticed this, but you've become rather impressive."
"Have I?"
"You took out an ogre. By yourself."
He blinked. "I did?"
She laughed. "You did. Remember when we got surrounded by those darkspawn with in the Deep Roads?"
His eyes widened. "I did, didn't I?"
She kissed him. "My hero."
"Hey Sereda."
"Alistair. What can I do for you?"
"I just heard disturbing noises coming out of Daylen's room. Either he or Morgan are wrestling or… well you get the idea I want to get it out of my head. Up for a bout?"
"Now that you've told me I want that out of my head too," she said.
They then headed to the ring and began to spa. "Your training is certainly paying off."
He smiled proudly, then parried her attack. They went back and forth for a few minutes. "I'm wondering something. I'd like to know your thoughts about some of our… traveling companions. Do you mind if I ask?"
"Not as long as you can talk and keep your shield up at the same time," she said. "Why do you want to know?"
"I've got this nefarious plan to go around to each of them and secretly tell them all the nasty things you said. That way they'll mutiny and I shall become the group leader!" He let out an evil laugh, spoiled a bit when he coughed.
"Just so you know, I'm laughing at you, not with you." She feinted and managed to tag him in the side.
"Ouch. Now I'm wounded. Look at me, bleeding all over the place. You're just not very nice, are you?" He shrugged. "Seriously though, I'm only curious."
"Who are you curious about?"
"How about Oghren? You must have an opinion on the smell, at least?"
"He's an excellent warrior."
"Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say. For a drunk, he's an excellent warrior, right? How he lifts his sword is a bit of mystery."
"Before the drink, he won seven provings. I only managed five."
"Oh. Well, as long as we can point him in the right direction, he charges too. He has gusto, I'll give him that. Zevran. You can't… trust him, can you? Do you believe his so-called vow?"
"Maybe. We'll see."
"That's a lot to put on a 'maybe', isn't it? He's an assassin. The Crows aren't known for giving up. Maybe he's just biding his time?"
"Crows and Carta have a lot in common. And yet you trust Faren." She tried a feint again, and he countered, bringing his shield in to knock her back a step. "I'm willing to give him a chance."
"Well, if you are, then maybe I should, too. But that doesn't mean I won't keep an eye on him. He's just too shifty. And… he's sleeping with Kallian?"
"Well that proves he's serious… I mean he's had several perfect opportunity to kill her and yet he did not."
"Yes, I didn't really think that."
Sereda dodged Alistair's swing. "And speaking of whom what do you think about Kallian?"
"Well, she certainly is crafty and sometimes a little bit scary. I shouldn't be surprised that she and Zevran and it up in bed with each other. I'm confident she knows what she's doing."
She then thrusted her sword straighter Alistair who deflected it. "And while on the subject on rogues I know about you and Faren."
Sereda rolled her eyes. "So, the others have decided to make comment on our love life."
"Hey you could do worse at least he apologises when he robes you."
Sereda blocked his swing. "Do we want to say things about my man while were sparring?"
"Ah, yes I see your point," said Alistair. "Okay, what about Sten? He's… quiet… for someone so big."
"I respect him."
"The more I talk to him, the more reasonable he does seem. His philosophy is so strange, but it doesn't sound at all as vile as the Chantry describes it."
She went low, and he jumped the blade rather than parry it, bringing his own to lay against her shoulder. She raised an eyebrow. "As one being trained as a Templar what you say about Daylen?"
"He certainly skilled?"
"He said that he found research that mage Avernus from Soldier's Peak, but he claims he's not going to do any ethical experiments."
"I hope not for what Theron said they were totally unforgivable."
"He is also wise for someone so young and he certainly keeps Morrigan in line."
"Yeah, what about her?" He came in high, and she sidestepped, placing the point of her blade at his belly. "Do you trust her? Think about it… maybe Flemeth sent her with us for some other reason than she said."
"I've been more or less assuming that is a given, and Morrigan has motives of her own. Even Daylen doesn't trust her. She's useful though."
"That's the most sensible thing I've heard out of you yet. Just remember that she's dangerous, too. And evil. And mean." He glanced at her. "Elissa?"
"If I say anything other than nice things about Elissa, you are going to sulk and cry."
"Well, not cry. Just pout a bit. Okay, Leliana. Is she crazy? Or do you really believe in her vision?"
"I believe that she believes in her vision."
He winced as she tagged him in the leg. "That's one way to put it. I don't know what to make of her. If you look at her when she doesn't see you, sometimes she just looks so… so sad. Except when Theron is around. What about him?"
"I think that he's grown into a fine young man since we found him in the woods."
Alistair laughed. "Yeah, and he certainly knows his way around the woods. If it wasn't for him Loghain's men would have caught us a long time ago."
"He's certainly been helpful." She tagged him in the other leg.
He shook his head. "I think my curiosity is sated, and my dignity bruised."
"Sereda, drink?"
Sereda glanced at where Oghren was sitting. "Afraid not. I'm heading out to look over the fortifications."
He nodded, then glanced behind her. "What about you, Robes?"
Sereda turned around and found Daylen, who seem to be walking funny. "No thank you."
"Come on, if you're able to tangle with Morrigan, you will be able to throw back a mug."
"Your offer is appreciated, but I'd rather not."
Kallian shook her head. "Don't bother, Oghren. He doesn't drink."
"What?" Oghren shook his head in confusion. "You mean like, never?"
"He is unfortunately dedicated to sobriety. It makes getting him out of his pants rather difficult," Zevran said, and gave regretful sigh.
"Morrigan doesn't seem to have that much trouble," said Faren.
Sereda sighed. "I hope you four will be sober enough to get on the road in the morning, because we've located the Dalish?"
"Don't worry love we are showing some of our exuberance," said Faren.
"He shows plenty of it to you," Oghren laughed.
"I'm leaving," said Sereda.
"Ah, Wynne…" Oghren called out to the mage. "Care to partake of Oghren's fine homebrew? It's the drink of the gods."
"Mm, ale, is it? And I hope it's brewed hygienically?"
"Of course! I may not know clean from a beggar's ass when it comes to most things, but I don't mess around with my ale."
"Very well, let's have a taste." She watched as he poured, then sniffed it before taking a drink.
Oghren leaned forward eagerly. "Well? Well? What do you think?"
"Very nice."
"You like it? Well, I never…"
"Attractive amber color. Nutty flavor, slightly sweet, just a hint of toastiness. There's some spice to it… I'm finding hard to place…"
"Yes? Yes?" Oghren was nearly bouncing out of his chair.
"Is it… cloves?"
He smacked the table triumphantly. "Cloves! By the stone, you're a lady after my own heart. If I weren't buckled into this armour, I'd take you round the corner and… well, you know."
"Give me more ale?"
Sereda gave up, and left the room.
Theron held up his hand and gestured for the others to stay back, and continued forward on his own for several paces. Faren almost jumped when the hunters seemed to almost materialize out of the woods around Theron.
"We're here, best let me do the talking," said Theron.
"I think that'll be the wisest decision," said Sereda.
They then approached the hunters, who lowered their bows when they saw Theron. "Andaran atish'an, my friend. You have come a long way. I give you the welcome of our clan." She looked back at the others. "These are curious companions you have. Might I ask the purpose of your visit?"
"I have come on behalf of the Grey Wardens, sister."
"The Grey Wardens? You… have joined their ranks? How unusual! Excuse my surprise… I will take you to the keeper right away."
Theron turned and gestured for them to follow.
The huntress led them into a Dalish encampment. Sereda made sure that she was only a pace away from Theron. She glanced up at his face, and blinked. From his expression, there was clearly something wrong.
They were led to a small grouping of aravels. A man, his face more heavily tattooed than Theron's, gave them a polite nod of greeting.
"Hmmm… I see we have guests… and one of our own, no less."
"This one is from one of our sister clans to the north, Keeper, but claims to have come on behalf of the Grey Wardens."
"The Grey Wardens? How unusual that one of our own should join their ranks. How did such a thing occur?"
Theron gave the man a respectful bow. "They need all the assistance they can get."
"Hmmm…" Zathrian gave Theron a contemplative look. "It is as I feared, then. Very well, let us speak. Ma serannas, Mithra, you may return to your post."
"Ma nuvenin, Keeper," the young woman bowed and left.
"Now, perhaps we might introduce ourselves. I am Zathrian, keeper and hahren of this clan. You are?"
"My name is Theron, a pleasure to meet you. This is Sereda, my commander."
"If you came to bring news of the Blight in the south, it is not needed. I had already sensed its corruption. I would have taken the clan north by now, had we the ability to move." He gestured to the camp. "Sadly, as you can see, we do not. Do not allow our troubles to burden you, though I suspect they may impact your mission. I imagine you are here regarding the treaty we signed centuries ago. Unfortunately, we may not be able to live up to the promise we made. This will require some… explanation. Please, follow me."
He led them to the centre of the camp. Men, women, and even children were laying on hastily made pallets. Some looked badly injured. All appeared to be suffering. Theron's face was dark. Sereda cast her senses, and blinked. She felt no tainted souls save for the wardens themselves.
Zathrian turned to look at them. "The clan came to the Brecilian Forest one month ago, as is our custom when we enter this part of Ferelden. We are always wary of the dangers in the forest, but we did not expect the werewolves would be lying in wait for us. They… ambushed us, and though we drove the beasts back, much damage was done. Many of our warriors lie dying as we speak. Even with all our magic and healing skill, we will eventually be forced to slay our brethren to prevent them from becoming beasts. The Blight's evil must be stopped, but we are in no position to uphold our obligations." He sighed. "I am truly sorry."
"Is there no way to help your men?" Theron asked. He saw the faces of his own clan in the eyes of the injured.
"The affliction is a curse that runs rampant in their blood, bringing great agony and then ultimately either death or a transformation into something monstrous. The only thing that could help them must come from the source of the curse itself, and that…" He shook his head. "That would be no trivial task to retrieve."
Theron gestured at his companions. "We are good at non-trivial tasks."
Zathrian looked them over, then returned his gaze to Theron. "Within the Brecilian Forest dwells a great wolf—we call him Witherfang. It was within him that the curse originated, and through his blood that it has been spread. If he is killed and his heart brought to me, perhaps I could destroy the curse, but this task has proven too dangerous for us. I sent some hunters into the forest a week ago, but they have not returned. I cannot risk any more of my clan."
Theron gave Sereda a pleading look. She glanced back at the others. They were a mix of frustrated and encouraging looks, but no actual objection. She nodded to Theron. "We'll find this Witherfang for you," he told the Keeper.
"I must warn you that more than werewolves lurk in the Brecilian Forest. It has a history full of carnage and murder, you see. Where there is so much death, the Veil separating the spirit realm from our own becomes thin, allowing spirits to possess things living or dead. But if you can indeed help…" He sighed, and then nodded. "Then I wish you luck."
"We will need some supplies," Sereda noted.
"Then I suggest you see Master Varathorn. I will instruct him to put aside some supplies for you, the kind that the hunters use."
"Walk into the forest and cut out the heart of a particular werewolf?" Kallian asked, her tone sceptical. "It's never that simple."
Theron nodded. "It won't be. I'm afraid my keeper was correct about the danger within this forest. My clan never stayed in this forest long."
Sereda nodded. "Daylen, Wynne, see if you can't assist the clan healers a little, find out a bit more about this affliction. Theron, what would you suggest?"
"We might speak with the storyteller. He might know something more about the area." Theron frowned thoughtfully. "And we should seek out Master Varathorn, stock up on potions before we go in."
Sereda nodded. "We should rest a bit before heading out into the forest."
Theron glanced at the others hesitantly. "I'd stay close to the centre of camp and be mindful. The Dalish are unused to strangers in their midst and a very mistrusting, especially to humans."
"So we have to watch what we say and do," said Faren.
"Just imagine that you are speaking to the human and dwavern nobles," Theron advised.
Faren raised an eyebrow. "You do realise that I mostly like to kick them in the balls."
"Mythal, ema lanaste," Theron muttered before walking away.
They found the storyteller at the fire.
"Andaran atish'an, Lethallin! Would you come and help us break our fast?"
Theron gestured at his companions. "We would like that."
He spread his hands in a gesture of welcome. "Come, then, and sit. Join us by the fire. I am Hahren Sarel, the clan's storyteller. You have one in your own clan I assume?"
"Yes, Paivel, our elder. I was his apprentice."
"Ah! Hahren Paivel still lives? That is good, for he was old even when I was but da'len. How lucky you are to have been reared with his tales. I notice you are… not alone. These companions of yours are Grey Wardens like yourself?"
"Some of them, yes."
"I am Leliana, and no Grey Warden at all. I am honoured to be here; I've heard so much about your people."
"Andaran atish'an—enter this place in peace. I do find it odd that any of your kind would so readily follow one of the Dalish." He glanced at Theron. "Do you suppose you have been made a Grey Warden simply to get our assistance? Maybe they think we would not live up to the treaty otherwise."
"I assure you that's not the case." He was about to tell Sarel that they saved him when the man angrily shook his head.
"Oh, you do, do you? No offense, young one, but you don't know half the—"
"Please, Hahren Sarel, you are being most unkind to one who is not only of our blood, but also a guest who is here to help us."
"Of course… I apologise for my rudeness. Our losses have been great and I am… not myself."
"The hahren's own wife has perished from the werewolf's curse. We are mourning her death, here, and so many more to come."
"Not if I can help it." Theron gave Sarel a gesture of respect.
"We are glad to hear it. I should not have suspected otherwise. These have not been easy days for us, and the idea that we may yet have to abandon our ill to their fate… But let us not dwell on our problems. Is there something we can do to help you in your quest?"
"What can you tell us about the forest?"
"I know a few tales. Our clan has passed this way many times before, even when the shemlen lived in these parts. If you wish, I can tell you what I know. It is not a long story."
"Yes, tell us of the forest."
"Our legends say that before the shemlen came, the Brecilian forest was a place of our ancestors that predated even our oldest homeland. The people of the Imperium came here and gave the forest its name. If they found traces of our ancestors, we cannot say. If they did, those elves were slain or enslaved. We know only that a great many battles were fought here; these trees grow upon the graves of those who fell—shemlen and elves both."
"And those battles… tore the Veil?" Daylen asked.
"Indeed, very wise of you. There was so much death that the Veil into the Beyond was torn. The shemlen know the Beyond as "the Fade", the place of dreams and spirits. When the Veil is torn, spirits pass into our world freely. The legends say that one great spirit possessed the wolf that became Witherfang, who passed its curse of rage onto men and created werewolves."
"This Witherfang still exists today?" Theron asked.
"So Zathrian insists. He says that Witherfang does not age as the werewolves do. Witherfang is as much spirit as it is beast, and thus it is immortal. Perhaps it cannot even be slain. At the very least, it is old and powerful, much as Zathrian himself."
Sereda leaned forward. "How many werewolves are there?"
"No one knows. When the shemlen lived in these parts, the curse would spread anew to a few of them with each passing year. They would run off into the forest, never to be seen again. Eventually, all the shemlen left. One assumes the werewolves survive by passing their curse to their offspring. They have had no new blood… until now, that is."
Theron glanced back towards the wounded. "Have the hunters become werewolves?"
"It is said that one or two have turned already, though the keeper denies it. As for the rest, they will either die or turn, unless…" He sighed. "They are killed out of mercy. I would rather die than become a ravening, soulless beast. Wouldn't you?"
Theron nodded. That was the very choice that would one day await him. "That's all we needed to know."
"One last warning: the forest is like a thing alive. It changes as it wills, closing paths behind you and opening up new ones. Too many have become lost within, unable to find their way out. Were I you I would endeavour not to make the forest my enemy."
"Have you ever heard of an elf named Aneirin?" Daylen asked.
Wynne glanced at him in surprised. "I… I appreciate you trying to find him but what are the chances—"
"Aneirin the healer…?"
"You… know Aneirin?"
Wynne looked shocked. "He… he lives? No, it can't be him. Perhaps it is a common elven name…"
"No, I know of only one Aneirin."
"Ah, it make sense! Aneirin said that he was from the human cities. You are old friends then?"
"If it is the same Aneirin, then yes, Wynne knows him," said Daylen.
"If you seek Aneirin, you must venture into the forest. He prefers to be amidst the trees and the animals."
"Thank you all so much." Theron could have sworn that he saw a small tear in Wynne's eyes as she spoke.
Theron led Leliana over to the halla enclosure. The bard's eyes lit up at the sight of the animals. "Oh, they are beautiful."
A woman looked up, startled. "Who comes—g?! Aneth ara! I was so busy attending the halla, I did not hear you coming."
Theron gave her a concerned look, then gestured. "I notice you've separated this halla from the herd."
"I fear she may have been bitten during the werewolf attack. I have tried speaking with her, but she is too agitated for me to understand. The curse would not affect her as it would us, but it would still be lethal. And it may prove contagious to the other halla as well. I can find no wound on her, but if she's truly ill, then…" She sighed. "Then I will have to put her out of her misery. For her sake as well as that of the others."
Theron frowned. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I don't know. Do you have any skills that might help her? If you do, I would be grateful."
Theron gently extended a hand to the halla, letting it grow accustomed to his scent before he caressed its nose gently. It blew air on his hand, but let him approach, calming as he spoke to it softly in elvish. It was fortunate that he was good with animals from all his time of hunting and he spent part of his time looking after halla.
"Yes… that's it. She's calming down! That's it, love. Be calm. Tell me what troubles you…" She pressed her ear to the halla's throat as the halla made a soft, almost trilling noise. "Ah, I see. It is her life-mate who is sick, not her. He was bitten on the leg during the attack and she fears greatly for him. I did not realize another halla was injured. This will allow me to prevent the sickness from spreading to the entire herd. Ma serannas. You have done my clan a great boon this day. I will always be grateful for your help."
Theron smiled. "Unnecessary. It's… good, to see halla again. Some days I miss them more than my clan." He rubbed the halla gently, and she responded by leaning into him affectionately, pinning him between herself and the enclosure and making the liquid trilling sound again.
"May I…" Leliana asked hesitantly. Elora gave her a friendly nod as she went to check on the other halla. Theron continued petting the halla with one hand as he gently extended his other to Leliana. She took it and approached slowly. The halla took a step backwards, but extended her neck to sniff at Leliana's outstretched hand. She allowed Leliana to stroke her nose a few times before moving away. "Oh, she was so soft… silkier than a horse. More like… like a rabbit or cat."
Theron smiled. "Oh, they're a lot smarter than horses. Granted they can be stubborn, but they have long been friends to the Dalish. Horses must be led. Halla know where they are going."
"Thank you for showing me."
He smiled, then leaned and whispered to the halla. "I have to go now. I have to help save our friends."
It made one more trilling noise, then stepped back so he could leave. Leliana raised an eyebrow. "Do they really understand you?"
"At least on the same level Barkspawn understands Elissa."
Kallian was wandering around and then a child approached looking at a curiosity. She heard a few of the Dalish calling her a flat-ear and she knew that they were looking at her with more resentment then Theron's clan. Apparently don't see to trust city elves or humans as much as Theron's clan.
"Wow!" he said in wonder. "How come you aren't a Dalish like us?"
Faren, who wasn't too far away, chuckled. "Surely you know that not all elves are Dalish? Kallian here is from the cities."
The child pondered that a moment. "Are you very sad? Elves shouldn't have to live with humans if they don't want to. It's too bad you don't have a clan of your own."
Kallian wasn't quite sure what to say, she could hardly snap the child for not understanding her situation, but at the same time she was suppressing her urge to snap up at the child.
Faren could see this trouble coming a mile away and addressed the child. "So, where are your markings? I thought all Dalish were born with them."
"No, silly, you don't get them until you are a grown up."
Kallian decided that it was best to leave Faren with the child and then suddenly another of the Dalish saw her. This one, however, simply nodded. "I greet you, stranger. It is good to see another elf, even if you are not one of the wander clans. I trust my people have not been too harsh in their treatment of you?"
"I don't mind. I understand." She was strange to them, and they weren't at their best.
"That is very generous of you. Most would assume we are unkind as a rule, and that is not the case… especially not to a Grey Warden. But we have lost much, and it is easy to forget simple niceties at such a time. I understand you will search for the wolves in the Brecilian Forest. I would join you, but Zathrian has… forbidden me."
Kallian raised an eyebrow. "Forbidden you?"
The man looked frustrated. "We are banned from entering the forest now. I have… more cause than most, but I will not disobey my keeper."
"Why do you want to enter the forest?"
He sighed. "I suppose there is no harm in telling a fellow elf, but surely you have greater concerns than any problem of mine, no?"
The longer she was involved in this conversation, the better excuse she'd have not to go back over to where everyone was staring. "I'd like to hear about it."
"Well, perhaps you could help me with it. I would certainly appreciate anything you could do. My wife, Danyla, and I both fought the werewolves in the ambush. She was injured so gravely the curse spread rapidly in her. Zathrian fought hard to ease her pain, but there was little he could do. And though he says that Danyla is dead, he will not let me see her… her body. I am beginning to believe she became a werewolf, and that it is being kept from me so I do not go chasing after her… If I could just… know if Danyla is alive, or what happened to her… then I could be at peace."
"I'm sorry, that's terrible."
"Ma serannas—thank you. The keeper means well, but… I must discover the truth for myself. If you are in the forest, perhaps you might… come across her, alive or dead. Any news would be better than none. And in return, I would be happy to gift you an amulet made by our craftsmen. It may fetch you some coin in the human lands."
"I'll see what I can do."
"You are most kind."
She saw Sereda gesture to her. "I should go."
Theron approached Master Varathorn, who was busy yelling at his apprentice. "What are you doing? You've warped the wood completely? Did you leave it out in the rain?"
"No, Master Varathorn, I… I think I just used too much heat…" said his apprentice.
Master Varathorn placed his fingers on the arch of his nose. "You're not smelling ore like a durglen'en! This is living word! It requires patience and delicate hands, not more heat!"
"My actions bring me sorrow, Master Varathorn…"
"And so they should. Truly the art will be lost to us forever at this rate!" He sighed he then noticed Theron and his party with him. "For where your deadwood and start a new, and I shall speak to our guest."
He then turned and looked at Theron. "Andaran atish'an, friend. It has been some years since I met Master Ilen at the last gathering. He is still hale, I hope?"
Theron nodded. "He was fine last time I saw him, yes."
"That is good to hear. Your clan is more familiar to us than most, since we do not stay far from each other in this land." He then gave him a sympathetic look. "I met your father, for he was once keeper of your clan. You carry many of his features." He then looked up into the sky as if remembering a distant memory. "He spoke at the gathering, telling the clans that more of us need to voyage into the shemlen world and learn their ways. He would be proud to see his son a Grey Warden, I think."
Leliana saw a tear trickled down Theron's cheek as he clutched his locket. "Thank you, that's kind of you to say."
"Our people speak so little of the dead, especially those who ending…" He paused and gave Theron another sympathetic look. "In tragedy. I thought you should know, regardless."
Theron then looked down at his craft. "You seem quite advanced in old craft, Master."
"What little of the craft I learned has been passed on to me through generations, such is the time is taken us to learn a fraction of what has been lost. I do not make bows as fine as Master Ilen's, perhaps, but mine have caused more than one shelmlen to drool at the thought of possessing them. I hear you be heading out soon and if you do not mind can you keep an eye out for ironbark."
"I can certainly do that," said Theron as they began to trade supplies.
"If you do find some I will craft you abow the likes of which has never been seen."
As they walked away from Master Varathorn, Leliana noticed that he was still holding onto his locket.
"You all right?"
Theron blinked and realised he was clutching his locket. "Oh, yes I just wish my father could see me now."
Leliana placed a hand over his wrist. "I think he would be very proud of the man you've become."
Theron kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you, ma sa'lath."
