Chapter 7: Into the Wilds
The wolf lunged at Alvar only to be slashed aside by his sharp silverite blade. Alvar then walked to towards the fallen wolf and stabbed it, ending its pain. As he pulled out the sword, he looked around. It was evening and he was in the outskirts of the Korcari Wilds, away from the camp at Ostagar. As a Grey Warden recruit, he was given tasks by Duncan, which now brought him to the danger filled Wilds. But he was not alone either, he was accompanied by three more men. Was this for good or bad, he was not sure of.
"We must stay close," he said gravely, "We do not know what manner of fiends we may yet encounter."
"Yes!" agreed one of his companions.
As the four of them walked ahead slowly and steadily in a close group, Alvar's mind wandered towards his companions.
The first one is a young blonde-haired man who was only two years younger than Alvar. Alistair is his name. He is the only one of the them who is a fully initiated Grey Warden. He was a former Templar who was taken into the Grey Wardens by Duncan approximately six months ago. To say Alvar was not much impressed by him would be an understatement. Alistair swooned over about being a Grey Warden, the man felt it a was a great honour to be a part of the 'most heroic order' in Thedas. He spoke as if being in the Grey Wardens was the best thing that ever happened to him. And as if this was not enough, Alistair greatly revered Duncan and was highly devoted to him, in fact he practically worshipped Duncan. This grated Alvar's nerves to no extent. Alistair's enthusiasm with Duncan and the Grey Wardens even reminded Alvar of his distant royal cousin who is currently no doubt sitting in his magnificent tent and bragging about the glorious battle to come.
Alvar also felt Alistair appeared quite handsome for a commoner. He had said he was a templar and when asked about his parentage he did not answer any of them which made Alvar suspect that he was an illegitimate child of some noble. As a nobleman himself who would often associate with other nobles; Alvar knew how unwanted children resulting from dalliances between noblemen and women other than their wives, were treated. Illegitimate children resulting from such unions would often be sent to the chantry to be raised as brothers and sisters; If not the Chantry, then they would be sent to join the City Guards, once they reached the appropriate age. Alvar wondered whose bastard son this Alistair might be, but then he quickly distracted himself as thinking about parentages would not be fruitful in this cursed forest.
Next was an older half-bald man. He is called Ser Jory, the man was older than Alvar, maybe he is of the same age as his currently missing, older brother Fergus. This man was a knight in the Redcilffe fyrd, sworn to Arl Eamon Guerrin. His recruitment to the Grey Wardens was rather puzzling to Alvar. He claimed that he won a tournament which was attended by Duncan, who being impressed by his performance made the offer of recruitment. The offer was accepted by Jory, which surprised Alvar greatly. As someone who went to great lengths to try and avoid his conscription, Alvar could not understand why would anyone agree willingly to join this wretched order. And to make this even more weird, Jory also has a wife who is due when he agreed to his recruitment. Alvar wondered why would any sane man leave his family and willingly agree to join the Grey Warden Order, which requires their recruits to sever all ties with their previous lives. Jory spoke very fondly of his wife and his future child which reminded Alvar of Sancia; he wondered how far her convoy must have reached by now. He prayed to the Maker to provide her a safe and quick journey to Storm Coast.
When asked about why he left his wife, Jory had responded confidently that he would return to her once the blight was over. 'Mayhap he does not know that joining the Grey Wardens was for life,' thought Alvar, 'Mayhap that whoreson Duncan has not told him. Or could they have blackmailed Jory by taking his wife hostage and forcing him to accept his "offer of recruitment"? It would anyhow not be the first time for those knaves to do such…' pondered Alvar as he tried to discern the puzzling recruitment of Ser Jory. But whatever be the reasons, Jory's wish to return to his wife and child after the blight was something Alvar could understand and relate to.
His last companion, Alvar felt was the worst of the lot. Alvar was immensely repulsed by him. He was a cutpurse who was caught and would have been hung, if not for Duncan who offered Grey Warden recruitment as an alternative to the hanging. Daveth is his name, but Alvar's abhorrence for him made him quickly forget his name. Being born into high-nobility, Alvar was very concerned with social standing and had very often looked down on people of lesser birth; but for criminals like Daveth, he had nothing but utter contempt. He always believed that such criminal lowlifes should be executed in public and their bodies discarded as carrion to the vultures. The fact that now Alvar would have to call this slimy knave, a convicted cutpurse his brother-in-arms sickened Alvar immensely. His ego and pride made the very thought appalling. But unlike Alistair who was surprised at Duncan's choice in picking Daveth, Alvar was not at all surprised; Instead, his beliefs on how the Grey Wardens being a home to criminals of all sorts was further reinforced. Alvar laughed mirthlessly to himself as he thought of how Duncan talks about how being a Grey Warden is the noblest calling while the same man picks slimeballs like Daveth into the Order.
When Alvar was asked about his background, he told them that he is the son of Teyrn Cousland. To say that the three of them were astonished would be saying it lightly. They were astounded to see a high-nobleman amongst their ranks. However, that was all he would tell them. Alvar did not tell them why or how he is here nor did he tell them anything about the events of Highever. But by his actions and his blunt, outspoken opinions on the Grey Wardens, he had made it clear to them that he was far from pleased to be here. And in turn the three of them felt it was better not to nudge him further. Alvar could not say whether having these companions was a good or a bad thing, but he hoped that his plan would work and he would not have to spend much time with these 'peasants' as he would put it.
Alvar had already assumed leadership of this group, despite Alistair being the more senior of them as a Grey Warden. Alistair refused to be the leader and agreed to just be the guide claiming he did not know how to lead. Among those men, Alvar and Ser Jory were the only ones who had any proper combat experience before. Although their experience in combat was quite limited to hunting bandits and highwaymen, it was still more than what Daveth and Alistair had. But Alvar was the only one who had been specially trained in leadership as was demanded by his high birth and thus, Ser Jory did not even bother to dispute for leadership. Even if he and Alistair had not refused, Alvar would have still assumed command over them for he would not allow himself to be commanded by these 'commoners'.
Now, Alvar thought about the reasons for him and his companions to be in the Korcari Wilds. They were given tasks by Duncan; tasks which Alvar, Jory and Daveth thought were absurd. Firstly, the three recruits who had not yet done undertaken the 'Joining ritual' had to bring a vial of darkspawn blood each. Secondly, they had to bring some 'Grey Warden Treaties' documents which were hidden in a cache in some old Grey Warden outpost in the eastern part of the Wilds. On questioning, Duncan informed them that the second task was not a part of their 'Joining' but rather an important task to be completed. Why did he not send other experienced Wardens? Or why did he not have this done much earlier? Duncan did not answer. Alvar prayed to the Maker to keep him safe on this ridiculous fetch quest.
"Darkspawn! Be on guard!"
Alistair's yell snapped Alvar from his thoughts and brought him to the present. He looked ahead to see their group being confronted by a band of humanoid shapes. They had the stature of humans but were rather grotesque and misshapen to look at. Even the air had filled with an unfathomable stench. They seemed slightly taller than humans, and their faces were twisted and hideous in appearance beyond comprehension. They could easily strike fear into the hearts of the bravest of men. The horror and deformity of these creatures had made countless stories.
"Maker's mercy!" murmured Alvar. Chill ran down his spine as he looked at the darkspawn. But they had a task to accomplish; they had to bring the blood of these creatures with them. Alvar then remembered what his maternal grandfather, Fearchar Mac Eanraig who was his mentor had told him, 'What bleeds can be hurt and what can be hurt can be killed.' The memory of these words emboldened him and after taking a deep breath, "Have at them!" he bellowed.
Alvar and Alistair carried swords and shields. Ser Jory wielded a greatsword. Daveth is an archer. Alvar, Alistair and Ser Jory charged at the darkspawn, yelling on the way; while Daveth readied his bow. The darkspawn engaged them with their own crude weapons as they were assailed by the humans. Alvar and his group fought desperately against this inhuman foe. They were outnumbered but, they soon found out that they weren't outmatched. The darkspawn seemed to rely on fear and numbers rather than skill. And their crude weapons and armour were of little use against their human foes who are better skilled and better equipped. One by one the darkspawn fell and, in a few minutes, the humans stood triumphantly as the ground was littered with darkspawn corpses.
As they stood catching their breath after sheathing their weapons, "As you all see now," spoke Alistair, "The thought of facing darkspawn is actually scarier than actually fighting them. Once you kill your first darkspawn you will feel much bolder than before."
"Yes," agreed Ser Jory, "Now, let's collect their blood for whatever purpose Duncan wants them for."
Ser Jory and Daveth then took out their vials as they bent near a darkspawn corpse each to extract the tainted blood. Alistair stood observing the surroundings. As for Alvar, he stood simply staring at the corpses with the empty vial in his hand. The dead darkspawn corpses repelled him more than when they were alive. With the air reeked with the overpowering rotting stench of the corpses, Alvar almost threw up in his mouth as he stared at the corpse littered ground.
Daveth and Jory filled their respective vials with the darkspawn blood. As soon as Daveth filled his vial, "You, cutpurse!" Daveth looked up to see Alvar standing a few feet away in an imperious, arrogant manner, he was holding an empty vial in his right hand; Jory and Alistair turned towards them as well. "Fill up my vial with the darkspawn blood!" demanded Alvar.
"What?!" Daveth exclaimed in surprise.
"Do you have dung in your ears?" bellowed Alvar, "I said, fill up my vial!" he demanded, raising his voice.
"Why me?"
"Because I said so, knave! Now get to work!"
"And you won't do it yourself?" asked Daveth as he stood up.
"Don't you know who I am?" Alvar asked haughtily, although it seemed more like a statement. "I am a lord from Highever! This kind of menial labour is beneath my station!"
"Yeah? Well, this ain't Highever and you don't order me," answered Daveth, crossing his arms, "do it yourself."
"Why you, insolent, scrawny little runt!" Alvar was furious, "I shall shove this blade so far up your arse, it shall come out of your mouth, you unwashed swine!" his hand clutching the hilt of his sword, jutting it suggestively forward as he stood aggressively, ready to fight.
Daveth clutched the hilt of a dagger in his belt. Before they could fight, Alistair and Jory rushed between them to intervene. Alistair held Alvar as Jory held Daveth.
"Whoa! hold on! There is no need for us to fight. Calm down the two of you!" yelled Alistair as he held back Alvar.
"Then tell that cutpurse vermin to do as I say and I won't have to carve his filthy hide!" yelled Alvar.
"But why must I do it?" protested Daveth, "I don't see you asking Ser knight here or Alistair."
"Don't argue with me churl!" retorted Alvar, "You will do it because this is what lowlife wretches like you are fit for!"
"Hey, we are Grey Warden recruits now," countered Daveth, "We are no longer what we were before…. which means your lordship," Daveth added with a hint of mockery "that you are same as this lowlife knave like myself."
"You scrawny worm! I should carve your filthy hide right here and leave you to these tainted monsters!" Alvar growled as Alistair tightened his grip on his shoulders.
"Just be quiet the two of you!" Alistair yelled, as they all turned towards him. "Just calm down Alvar, let's just talk things out. There is no need to get violent here."
Alvar calmed down and stopped pushing against Alistair's grip. Alistair loosened his grip, "Look Alvar, I understand you are having difficulty in adjusting.… but he is right. We are wardens now; we are all brothers for a cause and we must…"
Alvar snapped and pushed him away, "You don't tell me what to do, you motherless cur. The only brother I have is lost somewhere in this cursed Wilds… You peasants are no brothers of mine!" thundered Alvar.
"Now you flea-ridden maggot!" yelled Alvar, turning towards Daveth, "Will you fill up the vial or should I really stain my family blade with your filthy blood?"
"My lord, please!" requested Ser Jory as he stepped ahead towards Alvar, "Please calm down, let me talk to him…"
Alvar handed him the vial, "Just be quick!" he ordered with a grimace and turned away and walked. He stood with his arms crossed a little distance away; his back was turned, facing away from the group.
"Now I should be in my tent, planning my next move with Ser Alan; not collecting tainted blood with these peasants in this Maker damned forest!" Alvar grumbled to himself.
Jory and Alistair turned to Daveth, "now Daveth, listen…" Jory said.
"No, you listen" Daveth countered before he could complete his sentence, "I am not getting the blood for him. I will tell you the same thing as I have told that conceited lordling."
"Daveth, please, listen to me," requested Jory, "Lord Alvar is man of very high standing, you do not want to cross someone like him." He then took a deep breath, "Trust me, when I say that you do not want to get on the wrong side of nobles."
Daveth sighed and then nodded, "yeah, you don't have to tell me that."
"But Ser Jory, Alvar cannot his way all the time," whispered Alistair, "he is a Grey Warden now, we cannot give him special treatment just because he was a nobleman. He must get used to being a Grey Warden."
"I know, but our society is not that simple, Ser Alistair," answered Jory, "Nobles will always have it better than the others… whether we like it or not."
"Yeah, right…" Alistair nodded, it seemed he knew very well what Jory said.
"That spoiled brat," Daveth spat aside and rolled his eyes. He was disgusted at what he saw as Jory kissing the arrogant 'Lord Alvars' boot. He then reluctantly took the vial from Jory's outstretched hand and he then bent near a darkspawn corpse to fill up the vial.
"And Daveth?" Jory called softly, "Please be more careful with your words. You can never know what would offend nobles and what wouldn't"
Daveth rolled his eyes and nodded. He had always hated nobles, to him they are thieves just like him, except they happen to succeed in taking what they want and then they would pretend to be saints while being the biggest sinners and hypocrites.
As soon as he filled up the vial, Daveth walked towards Alvar. He rolled his eyes once more as he looked at the young nobleman standing imperiously, like he owned the place. He came beside him, "Your vial is ready, your lordship!" he said with an exaggerated bow.
Alvar did not say a word nor did he see the bow. He nodded while having an inscrutable expression on his face and accepted the vial. Then he and Daveth turned around to face the other two men.
"So, we got the darkspawn blood, now what is next?" questioned Alvar.
"Next, we must find and bring the Grey Warden treaties from the Warden outpost," declared Alistair.
"Which way do we go then?" asked Alvar.
"Eastwards," answered Alistair, "There is an old Grey Warden outpost in the eastern part of the Korcari Wilds. We will find the treaties there."
The four of them walked eastwards in the direction of the outpost. As they walked Alvar suddenly turned to Alistair, "Alistair, tell me something. When did Duncan put the treaties in the outpost for us to find?"
"What so you mean? He didn't put them any time!" Alistair was puzzled, "The treaties were there from a long time."
"So, he did not place them to make us find them as a part of the joining?"
"Maker, no!" Alistair laughed, "As he said before, he is sending us the retrieve the treaties because he believes they would be needed soon. This is not a part of the joining."
"How important are these treaties?" questioned Alvar.
"Very much, they are pacts made between leaders of various kingdoms and groups in Thedas. The pacts demand that they give unconditional support to the Grey Wardens at the time of blights," Alistair explained to the curious nobleman.
"That sounds very important," Alvar raised his eyebrows, "If so, then why did Duncan wait all these days to retrieve them. Cailan and the army had camped in Ostagar for almost half a month, why didn't Duncan try to retrieve these treaties earlier? Was he awaiting some auspicious hour?"
Alistair was flushed, he had no answer "I… I don't know. He never told me anything about these before,"
"And you never thought about asking him either?" stated Alvar with an unimpressed smile. Alistair did not answer anything for this. Alvar rolled his eyes at the irresponsibility and carelessness of Duncan and his equally inept followers.
'Does fighting a mindless beast, require you to be equally mindless as well?' pondered Alvar as they walked. And for the very few times in his life he hoped he would be wrong. And then the four of them silently continued their quest for the treaties.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Around half an hour later, the group had reached some distance in the eastern part of the Korcari Wilds. They had come across some darkspawn bands along the way. This time, they even discovered some different types of darkspawn. They came across some shorter darkspawn called genlocks, who were short but stout, similar to dwarves and proved quite strong but their shorter height and lesser reach made them less capable than the previous tall ones they had faced, who were called hurlocks. There was another type of darkspawn who were gaunt and more agile, their strength was in their speed rather than brute force. They were called shrieks, they were almost of the same height as the hurlocks.
As they reached a clearing, they were greeted by an appalling sight. Over three dozen Fereldan soldiers lay dead in the ground. Alongside their bodies, few dirtied flags bearing the Arling of Denerim colours lay on the ground. There were enough bodies of darkspawn around them evidencing that the soldiers put up a good fight before being slain to the last man. Alvar, Alistair, Jory and Daveth stood near the corpses staring at them when, "Iss… someone… there?" a voice called out.
They looked at the ground to see a badly wounded soldier crawling on his stomach. He was covered in blood as he tried to approach the newcomers. "Who… is… it?" he called out in a struggling voice.
"Are…you… Grey Wardens?" he asked after seeing Alistair who was clad in the blue and silver chainmail and surcoat of the Grey Wardens.
"Well, he's not half as dead as he looks, is he?" Alistair remarked casually.
"At ease man!" Alvar instructed the soldier, "We can offer him some water" he said looking at his companions.
Jory nodded and offered his waterskin to the soldier. The soldier took a few sips and handed the waterskin back to Jory. "Now, tell us what happened here?" commanded Alvar.
"My patrol was ambushed… by the darkspawn! They came upon us out of nowhere… they killed all my brothers… Please, help me! I have to… get to the camp!" pleaded the soldier.
"Hmm… we could bandage him at least," stated Alvar.
"Yes, I have bandages in my pack" declared Alistair. "Then get to work!" ordered Alvar. Alistair bent towards the soldier and carefully bandaged the soldier's legs. The soldier struggled and managed to stand up as the bandaging was completed. He then thanked Alvar and the group as he slowly limped towards the camp at Ostagar.
"Do you see that? An entire patrol of trained men killed by darkspawn," stated Jory, his tone was relatively fearful.
"Calm down, Ser Jory," Alistair attempted to reassure the knight, "We will be fine if we are careful."
"Those soldiers were careful, they still got slaughtered by the darkspawn. What if we get ambushed next? How many darkspawn can the four of us slay? A dozen? A hundred? There is an army of them in this forest!" Jory gabbled anxiously.
"There is an army out there, but we are in no danger of facing the entire horde." Alistair answered calmly.
"How do you know that?" asked Jory, "I am not a coward. But this is reckless and rather foolish. We should go back" he turned towards Alvar.
Alvar was silent, he was in deep thought about all the recent events and his own problems. He agreed with Jory. This is indeed a reckless and foolhardy task which would require more men. 'But of course, that old goat Duncan would not think of all this… or maybe leadership is beyond his simple lowlife brain,' thought Alvar, 'But we must get those treaties, they are very valuable even if that fool did not think about this…
But what if the horde comes upon us and I get killed? But then would that knave send me to a certain death especially when he was so hell bent on getting me onto his wretched order? Maker I hope not.'
"Quiet you all!" snapped Alvar, "Whatever it is, we must still get those treaties. By standing here and yapping aimlessly, we are burning sunlight! It will be dark soon and we would have to go back empty handed.
Then tomorrow that whoreson Duncan will no doubt send the four us again to fetch his precious treaties! And Maker… I do not wish to come here again! Now let's get going for Andraste' sake!"
"Hey! That was uncalled for!" Alistair protested, annoyed at Alvar's choice of words to refer Duncan.
Alvar rolled his eyes, then stomped eastwards towards the Grey Warden outpost. The three other men stood looking at each other as Alvar walked ahead.
Alistair took a deep breath, "Know this Ser Jory, All Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn from afar. Whatever their cunning, I guarantee that they will not take us by surprise. That's why I am here with you all." Alistair spoke soothingly hoping to calm the worrying knight.
"You see, ser knight? We might die, but we will be warned about it first." Daveth added in a snarky manner.
"That is… reassuring" Jory calmed somewhat.
"Yes, Now let's get going before Prince Charming walks into some darkspawn war party and we get blamed for not looking after his gilded arse," remarked Daveth.
Alistair and Jory gave a chuckle and they chased after Alvar hoping to catch up with him.
Around an hour later, the four men came in sight of an abandoned and greatly damaged outpost on hill which was some distance away from where they stood.
"That's the outpost!" declared Alistair.
Between them and the outpost, they spotted a score of darkspawn standing around aimlessly. "They are many of them," Alvar remarked gravely, "they seem to have a couple of mages as well."
"Yes, and some archers also" added Alistair.
"Now listen up. Alistair shall go after the mages," Alvar started briefing them, "cutpurse will take a vantage point on that hill over there and take out their archers. Ser Jory and I shall deal with the rest."
The four of them then hastened towards the outpost. Daveth got into position on a hill and readied his bow. Alvar, Alistair and Jory charged the darkspawn. The darkspawn had not seen them and were taken by surprise. Alistair quickly rushed the darkspawn mages called 'emissaries' while Alvar and Jory hacked left and right at any darkspawn in sight. With the element of surprise on their side, Alistair and Daveth took out the mages and archers quickly; while Alvar and Jory slew some of the darkspawn caught off-guard quickly with little effort. The darkspawn were not organised and were taken by surprise; their officer, a type of intelligent darkspawn called 'alphas' tried to rally them but to little avail. In a few minutes of desperate fighting, the darkspawn were all down to the Hurlock alpha. Alvar, Alistair and Jory attacked them together and soon even the alpha went down.
After a couple of minutes of respite, the four men made their way to the outpost. The Grey Warden outpost was a ruined tower of some kind. There are hardly any walls standing erect, and what little stone is left was mostly covered in moss. They looked around as they stood inside the walls or where the walls were supposed to be, a little distance away, they saw a ruined cache. Duncan had told them that the cache was where they would find the treaties and they were protected by magic. But seeing the condition of the cache, Alvar doubted the treaties would still be found in them.
"Will we find the Treaties here, my lord?" asked Ser Jory.
"Only one way to find out," answered Alvar.
The four of them walked and stood near the chest.
"So, Alistair?" Alvar turned to Alistair as he indicated the cache on the floor. Alistair bent near the cache as he tried to open it. Alvar, Jory and Daveth stood watch nearby as Alistair worked on the cache.
"Blast it!" cursed Alistair and the other three turned towards him. "They are not here!" yelled Alistair.
Before any of them could respond, a feminine voice called out from behind them, "Well, well, what have we here?"
The men turned around to see a young woman standing in an upward stone passage in the ruined tower. She was clad in dark green robe* with a maroon scarf around her neck, there were some green feathers on the left shoulder of her robe. Her robes were quite similar to the ones worn by the Chasind wilders who inhabited the Korcari Wilds and some of the southern reaches of the Brecilian forest. She is a woman of great beauty and she stood very confidently with her hands on her hips.
The men stood, watching her with interest and caution, "Are you vultures, I wonder? Scavengers poking amidst corpses," she asked, descending from the stone passage, "Or merely intruders, coming to these darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey?"
The men stood still watching, they did not answer, "What are you then? Scavengers or intruders?" she demanded.
"Who is asking? And how are these your Wilds?" Alvar countered.
The woman smirked, "I believe I asked you first. Now, who are you all? And what are you doing here?"
"Don't answer her," muttered Alistair, "She looks Chasind, meaning she may not be alone."
"You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?" the woman mocked, throwing her arms in the air.
"Yes, swooping is bad," Alistair stated with a wry grin.
"She is a witch of the Wilds!" uttered Daveth, "She will turn us into toads, she will!"
"Witch of the Wilds?" she repeated sardonically, "such idle fantasies, have you no minds of your own?"
"You there, handsome lad," she faced Alvar, "tell me who you are and I will tell my name. Let us be civilised, shall we?"
"I am Lord Alvar Cousland of Highever," Alvar proclaimed proudly,
"I am Morrigan," she answered, "Now that is a civilised greeting."
"Enough wench!" Alvar said sternly, "What are you and how are these your wilds? Tell us now!" he demanded, Alvar had been wary since he had stepped into these Wilds, he had read about the 'Witch of the Wilds' before, thus, he suspected Daveth must be right.
"Feeling a little aggressive, are we?" she smirked, untouched by his loud demand. "Well, I have been living in these Wilds and I believe it makes them mine as much as it belongs to the animals here; And what are you doing here? So far from home?
"Let me guess your purpose. You sought something in the chest, something that here is no longer?"
"Here, no longer? You stole them, didn't you? You're… some kind of… sneaky witch-thief!" Alistair accused her with a stutter.
Alvar rolled his eyes at the junior warden's lack of tact. If she is really a Witch of the Wilds, then she could be very dangerous, in which case it is wise to handle this diplomatically.
"How very eloquent. How does one steal from dead men?" Morrigan asked with a smirk.
"Silent Alistair!" yelled Alvar, he did not want to waste any more time in pointless chatter; turning to Morrigan, "Now… miss… you seem to know of what has happened to these documents. Can you tell us what has happened to them?"
Morrigan was amused at the nobleman's sudden change in attitude, 'I am a miss now?' she mused, "Now, you seem like a man capable of a mature conversation.
"The documents you are looking for are with my mother."
"See! I knew it!" Alistair cried out, "She is a sneaky, witch thief stealing Grey Warden property, she and her mother must be apostate witches hiding and stealing…."
"For Maker's sake Alistair! Will you shut up or must I cut out your tongue?!" thundered Alvar, losing his patience; he turned towards Alistair, he then took a deep breath, "We must proceed carefully, if we are to get your precious treaties!" he said sternly, "Let me handle this, and keep your wretched mouth shut!"
"Alright," Alistair sighed, "But I am watching her, she could be a dangerous apostate."
"That you should!" hissed Alvar.
Alvar then turned to Morrigan, "So, you were saying? Right, your mother took them, er… I mean retrieved them. For what purpose does your mother need Grey Warden treaties?" Alvar wondered if her mother could be some Chasind chieftain or something.
"The seal protecting them had worn out long ago," she answered, "Unless, you wanted them just like the moss-covered walls here, my mother had to take them with her…. to keep them safe."
"Oh! So, you… protected them!" Alistair exclaimed excitedly as Alvar rolled his eyes.
"Ahem, Morrigan, can you please return the treaties to us?" requested Alvar.
Morrigan smirked smugly on seeing how this handsome young nobleman went from being threatening to requesting when he wanted something from her, 'how typical' she thought. "I said my mother has the treaties not I," she answered.
Alvar sighed, "Then can you take us to her so that we may take what we came for?" he requested.
"Meet my mother? Hmm… now that is an odd request. But it seems those old parchments are pretty important to you," she answered with a smug face, "very well, follow me then."
Saying that, she started towards the direction of her mother's hut. Alistair, Jory and Daveth came towards Alvar, "Are you sure about this? How can we trust her that she will not lead us into some trap or something?" Alistair asked anxiously.
"She'll put us all in the pot, she will. Just you watch" complained Daveth.
"If the pot will be warmer than this forest. I think it is a nice change." Ser Jory commented casually.
"Quiet you all!" snapped Alvar, "the matter is not up for debate. We have no other choices and your Duncan will not be satisfied if we return empty-handed, that bastard.
"So, just come along and for Maker's sake, keep your mouths shut!"
"Point noted," said Alistair, "But I still do not trust her though, And I am keeping an eye on her."
"As will I" added Jory.
"Good, make yourselves useful then!" Alvar said exasperatedly, "Now let us be quick so that we can leave this cursed forest before it is too dark or we might have to stay the night with Morrigan and her mother in their hut."
"Maker! No!" Alistair and Daveth were terrified. And the four of them followed as Morrigan led them through the Wilds, towards her mother's hut.
*In this story, Morrigan's robes will look like the "Practical Morrigan Robe" mod. Here is a link to the mod " dragonage/mods/4630?tab=description" you can see here what it looks like.
Here is the 7th chapter, hope you all enjoyed it. Feel free to review and comment.
And thanks a lot to Arcane Warrior 2012, Falconhawk and other guests for your kind reviews.