Okay, the swamp is starting to look familiar... but are you sure about this? I glance back at Mistress, who motions at me to keep going. Fine, onward into the arsecrack of creation. We haven't seen people since what passes for Low Vering these days. The rebuilt Chant Tree and maybe 2 or 3 houses, not even a new pub – that old man who paid us for retrieving spider juice was the only one I recognised. We spent last night sleeping in the tower at Ostagar. All this because some of Furgus' Chasind buddies sent Mistress a message that someone was seen poking around Morrie's old shack. Not even a description. Just 'someone'. Could be the stupid rhyming tree from the Werewolf Forest, for all we know. Also, it must have been weeks ago, by now. You really think they're still here?
We climb a slope, and said crap-shack comes into view. Huh... the torches on the path are lit. I'll just shut up, then.
Noticing the torches, Mistress takes a wary look around. "Like their scouts said, someone's been here. Think it's her, Max?"
I sniff around. I don't recognise any scents, but this place fucking stinks of old bog water. Hard to say.
We keep walking towards the hut. "We'll find her" Mistress muses. "I promise."
I certainly hope we do. Even down the track, if today turns out to be that damn tree or whoever.
Ew, I can smell Darkspawn. Not nearby, but let's get in and out before those idiots notice us. Mistress nods, like she knows as well, and pokes the door open. As we enter, I notice footprints in the coating of dust on the floor. Someone is here... and they don't smell like Morrie!
"Not another step closer!" An Elf woman steps out from behind a corner, pointing swords at us. Rude. "What are you doing here?" RUDE. This damn sure isn't your house, so you don't get to ask! Squatters' rights aren't legally recognised in Ferelden, I'll have you know!
"Call off your hound, Shem." Good luck with that, Miss Elf! You wanna fight, I'll go you.
Mistress sighs, when I step towards the interloper. "Max... he will, when you lower your blades."
"Then tell him to back off!" she answers. Are you deaf or stupid?! Put away your pokey things!
With a frustrated groan, she does. Okay good. You're reasonable, it seems. "Fine... I am Ariane, of the Dalish people." Thanks, the armour and face tattoos didn't give it away. "My Keeper sent me to find Asha'bellenar – the woman of many years" I... don't think we know any old women named Asher. Sounds like an Avvar name. Anyway, we're looking for our friend Morrigan... come to think of it, what was her last name? Not Bellinor, at least. Uh... let's just call her Morrigan Korcari Wilds. I don't suppose you've seen her?
Mistress relaxes, since I've stopped bristling at the woman. "My name is Amanda, and if you mean who I think, then I'm searching for her daughter. Morrigan." Korcari Wilds.
"I see" Ari murmurs. "Then we have more in common than I expected. I pursue Morrigan as well." But you just said- "She has done my Clan a great injustice. Has she wronged you also?" Well, that depends who you ask.
"She's a friend, or was, and I'm concerned about her" Mistress answers, before glancing at the door. What are you.. wait. Yeah, I feel it too. Darkspawn are coming this way. Ari, we're gonna have to make this talk quick.
"A friend? With a Witch of the Wilds? Odd... but perhaps you can reason with her, then." Ari begins to pace. "Morrigan stole a book from us, an ancient tome we have guarded since the days of Arlathan." Arl who? I don't remember meeting them at a Landsmeet party."We were the only Clan with such a piece of our history." Damn it, Morrie... "Everything we once had, all legacy of our ancient magics, were torn from us. The Magisters, then the wretched Circle... and Morrigan took what little was left." Fuck – maybe we shouldn't have said we know her. My fur goes all weird. Oh good timing, the Darkspawn are here. That's a good enough way out of this conversation!
Mistress draws her sword. "Darkspawn... at least one Shriek. If you're not good with those blades, stay here" she warns Ari. "Max, let's go." Right!
I wait for her to charge out. With my luck, there's probably some archer just waiting to try shooting my butt. There's a familiar donk as a bolt bounces off her shield. Yep, arsehole with a crossbow. I turn and tackle this other idiot who was lurking around the other side of the house. Once he starts choking on his own blood, I turn to get back into the fight. But there's no need. Mistress has the Emissary on the ground, and Ari... just hacked off this last Hurlock's arm, while also jamming her other sword up into his gut. Okay, you're good.
Mistress retrieves one of those weird oily-smelling rags from her pouch, and tosses it to Ari. "Wipe down your weapons, hands, and anywhere you got their blood. Then use that swamp to rinse off."
Ari glances from the corpses, to Mistress' shield. "You're a Grey Warden." Oh no. Not this again.
"Indeed I am" Mistress nods.
Ari stops wiping her gauntlets, to think. "You'd be allowed into the Circle?"
They do owe us some big favours. "That... is the last place to try, if you want to find Morrigan" Mistress points out.
"Most likely – but the book I mentioned? It was given to us by an Elven mage, who took it from the Circle before escaping. He said similar treasures are held there. A Dalish would never be allowed to view them... but perhaps you will receive a different reception."
Mistress motions into the distance. "First, let's leave before more Darkspawn notice us. We can stay at Ostagar tonight, and set out for the Circle in the morning."
Okay, but you pointed West. Ostagar is North West. Just saying.
After a final sniff, I sit back. This part of the tower still seems secure enough, for another night. Doorway is nice and low... so no fucking Ogres can sneak in. I'd still like to how that one fat bastard got up into the bonfire room, two years back. Satisfied nothing got onto the hanging hook, Mistress looks over to Ari. "Are you right for food?" She's already produced something from a sack, so Ari nods mid-chew. "Good, good" Mistress self-answers, taking down some meat. Kneeling down to fiddle with the flint rocks, she speaks up again. "Do you know why Morrigan wanted that book?"
Ari shakes her head. "No. The passage she seemed interested in, was about something called Eluvian. Even our Keeper isn't sure what that means, the tome is so old."
A loophian... is loophian some kind of animal? I hear the clink of the rocks, as Mistress struggles. Is it tasty? "I got too used to Daylen starting the fires..." Mistress grumbles. And there we go! "Finally" she exhales, adjusting the cooking pan. "Hmm. I can't say she ever mentioned such a thing. The Circle is our best lead, then."
To distract myself from the sizzling meat, I wander over to Ari. Those sure are some neat looking swords, when they're not pointed at me. Lemme inspect them for a second... these are fancy. Custom made, I assume? She swallows, and glances down to spout some Dalish at me. Sorry, the only Dalish I know is 'Halla', and 'Durgenlen'. That's what they called Braids, so I assume it's an insult.
"... Rain of Petals" Ari says, and then taps the other sword. "Girl's Best Friend"
Huh – yeah, they both lose something in translation. Just sounds cooler in Dalish. But simply having named weapons is cool, I suppose. Wait... named weapons, that look unique. I sit down, to ponder this a second. I feel much better about your chances now, Ari! We've had bad luck with temporary companions before... especially here in Ostagar. Maybe if they'd had named their stuff, Baldy and Stinky would have survived. Sure, Mistress added their names to the Warden monuments going up around the place, but sometimes it feels like we're the only ones who remembers those two.
"... Max, was it? Can you stop watching me eat?" Ari suddenly asks.
"He's just trying to figure you out" Mistress responds. "He does that... but you can give her some space to eat, Max."
What?! It's not like I'm touching her!
"Don't argue. The meat will be recooked soon" Mistress says, in her warning tone.
"Are you really going to eat that?" Ari asks. That sounded kinda judging.
"He is. I've got some greens for tonight. I'll hunt fresh meat as we travel." Mistress, we should catch one of these loophians! Dalish delicacy for our new Dalish friend.
"Yes, Max. I get it. Dalish" Mistress sighs, poking at the meat. "Sorry, he's just curious because you're Dalish."
"Have you... neither of you, met one before?"
"We have, but he didn't really have time to poke around their camp. Between the Blight, and ancient werewolf curses, there wasn't a lot of talking." Just that one jerk by the fire, and he wouldn't shut up.
"Werewolf cur... oh. That Clan" Ari says, before pausing in further thought. "Wait – then you're the Warden!"
Here we go again... we really can't travel anywhere without being recognised. Even the fucking middle of Swamp Stupid, out beyond nothing but burnt tree stumps.
"Yeah, I'm The Warden..." Mistress groans. "Morrigan travelled us during the Blight, for a time. She left over... something I need answers about. So we both need to find her."
Ari nods in response, while I pace over to inspect the cooking.
"I'm not surprised they became that Clan" Mistress finally speaks up, after the silence drags on for a while. Don't get her talking, Mistress. We both know that ends in 40 minutes of questions about the Archdemon.
"There were already questions about the Keeper's age, and then rumours about something happening to them in the Brecilian... word spreads slow, but it does spread." Oh neat, so even Dalish like to gossip. "Like those fools up north" Ari further mutters to herself. "Even if the Halla are gone, who sets camp on Sundermount?"
Wait, wait.. the Halla are gone?!
"... What?" Ari pulls away from us.
"Shut up, Max" Mistress orders. "You and your bloody Halla... Sorry. He found their enclosure, while we were with Zathrain's Clan. I think he thinks they're gods or something."
They are gods, you fucking heretic! We should help this Clan, forthwith. "Clan has lost their god-beasts. Please help us find them, or new ones" posters, for starters.
"I... see" Ari muses. "Perhaps we'll get along after all, hound. Sorry, Max."
See, we're friends already! We're gonna have a great time!
Thanks to everyone who read, followed and the like. As always, especially Melysande.