Chapter 1

Kingdom of the Koada'Dal, City of Felwithe, Faydwer, Greater Faydark, Norrath, Year - Unknown, Month 6 - Oceansfull, the Season of Growth.

Deedolit Meleth Swiftleaf, daughter of a respected Merchant Lord, grew up in Felwithe, the grand Koada'dal city on the continent of Faydwer. Like most others of her kind, they sent her to court as expected of young girls her age. Within the High Elven city she grew, until she came of age. Overnight she wished to step from the protecting arms of her Felwithe home. Beyond the safety of the high marble walls and marble lined streets that were blessed by their Goddess, to explore the world at all the corners, and dangers of Norrath.

She blossomed, her eyes seemed to brighten like jewels, the warmest aquamarine. Her long hair shone starlight platinum, her radiant complexion cinnamon-warm, supple skin, unblemished. Adored by those closest to her, and charmed by those who meet her, unaware of the way others see her.

Deedolit is warmhearted as she is generous, giving her last copper if need be. Deedolit did, quite by accident, come to learn the power of speech. Testing her new power during a trip to the town market while seeking fabric for a new robe. One, unknowingly, gentle placed charm spell the shop owner was practically giving it away. She gave a platinum piece as a gift.

One of the caster-guild members of the enchanter sect, Kenool Goldsinger, spotted Deedo. He just caught her slipping the charming spell to lower his prices. As it were the very air she breathed.

The magical art of Enchanting, an Enchantress, that became her gift from enchanting herself into various people, to enhancing metal properties for others to use. To instill your worst fears, or greatest desire. To vanish and materialize in a breath, she used her gift well. Deedolit could be anyone or anything, and she loved it, proffering her some freedom. She could stop a fight with a blink of the eye or a well-placed, mesmerizing spell, stilling an entire room.

As the years passed, she grew even more beautiful and even caught the eye of several men during her stay within the safety of Greater Faydark. Deedolit needed to branch out from the Imperial City of Felwithe to the far reaches of Norrath, which happened uniquely.

In her fifteenth Spring, she hurried to get her spells from her guild master. Gleefully she ran from the city, spell scrolls in hand to the middle of the forest, well away from others. She went to practice a spell when something went array and it sent her into a dark part of the wood not yet explored. For the next nine years, Deedo called a new place home for a time, Ferelden, under the banner of one Maric Theirin, whom she rescued the night she landed on Thedosiane soil.

The Hinterlands, Ferelden, Month 9 - Kingsway, 8:96 of the Blessed Age.

The scent of rain filled her senses as she was falling fast through thick clouds. Winds whipped past. Birds squawked as she continued downward descent, cut swiftly through the air. Her spell could not keep her aloft, nothing to slow her descent to what she prayed was earth or a body of water.

Without so much of a warning, she felt through her thin cloak the sudden impact of branches against her body, which caused her to brace herself. Deceleration nigh much as she had the branches broken her fall.

The sudden stop jolted the girl as she landed gracelessly on her side. The Goddess has well blessed her, for she was prone in a puddle of soft, deep mud. She felt cold. Penetrated prickles shot through her body as she allowed sleep to claim her.

The night came and the sound of night creatures stirred her. Slowly she rose, Deedolit shivered, a pang of pain throbbed her head, pulled her damp cloak closer to chase the chill away. Where had she come to berth?

A scan from her position saw nowt but dark forest. Moonlight flitted through sparsely. Even with her keen eyesight, none of this wood looked at all familiar. Did she cast incorrectly, did the spell backfire? She had heard of Norrath's darker forests that were full of creatures ready to pounce.

The young girl stood tiding herself as best she could, caked in mud the Elf found. Did her best to rid herself of the grime, catching a far off sound. Someone was approaching. Sharply, her ears sifted through the creatures that inhabit the woods bound towards her. She looked up, turned to face the one advancing on her. Her Elven eyes caught a young man, as he, not aware of where he was going, collided with her.

He caught her, upended to catch her on top of him. Their lips met, "How dare you!" She gasped in Elvish, but the fear in his eyes gave her pause.

"Please be quiet, please!" He whispered harshly as he covered her mouth and shook his head. In the faint, moonlit night, he could see the outline of a body on him.

Deedo nodded and made no other sound. She heard heavy, sloshed footfalls of another lumbering that the boy under her did not hear, and she removed his hand, whispering near his ear, "Someone is after you?" The young man nodded. "I will aid your escape. Misdirect him in another direction. A spell to help you see. Run as fast as you can. I will meet with you again."

Deedo slipped from his body, the weight change he felt a sudden cold. Waving her hands, she concentrated, prayed, with a wave of her hand casted quickly, the sudden sensation of magic washing over him. Not one he is familiar with. He blinked. The forest was bright, the lay of it he could now make out. No longer would he bumble about as he had. He knew he heard a woman's voice. Her back turned as she faced his attacker. The young woman before him briefly pulled her hood over her head before she hissed harshly at him, "Go!"

Certain he was a suitable distance away, leaving her attention now undivided. Casting once more with a flick of her wrist, she shifted into a large white doe. Engaging the man before his approach charged with great speed, pummeled him off his feet, and hurled him into a tree.

Southron Hills Hidden camp, Ferelden, 8:96 of the Blessed Age.

Deedo had to show herself. They ambushed the camp. The large man shouted for his son to take away the boy whom she "met" in the woods days prior, Prince Maric.

Loghain, the son, nearly ran to join the fray. Deedo saw what was occurring cloaked herself in the thick fabric of her hooded cloak, taking the form of a human, took a potion of swiftness, gave chase after the two young men. A quick stun immobilized them, and after casting Levitation, now could take them both by the hand.

Deedo headed in the opposite direction of the overrun camp. She cursed herself for being unable to help, as she was still new to her powers. She'd have to apologize to them later. For hours she ran. Her legs burned, the potion wearing off, her muscles ached. Thankfully, they were safe. The Koada'dal needed rest. Released from their stun, another minor spell her form shifted to that of a bird. She briefly nested in the tall trees, mourning quietly. She would join them after. Maybe.

Kocari Wilds, Ferelden.

Loghain hissed. "Will you shut that stupid bird up? We will get caught because of it. Free it." Saw in Maric's hands where he stowed the small bird. The Prince had been on the run, hidden away in the Hinterlands, seeking the rebel camp of his murdered mother, Queen Moria.

Maric petted the head of the bird in his chilled hands, then gripped her tighter, doing his best to help quiet her.

"Do not call her stupid. She is very intelligent, are you?" Maric smiled at the blue-and-white-crested dove he held. "I am certain she likes you."

The bird in question puffed her feathers, in what seemed irritation. Fluttered to be released, to land on Loghain's shoulder. She gave a quick trill and a tug on a braid of his raven hair. He grunted, shooing the bird away. "Oh, she likes me very much, I am sure."

Days later, cold to the bone, drained from hardly resting, took pause, dozing left off guard. The Dalish had captured them. Deedo studied them for a while, hidden away. She shielded herself behind a tree, transformed to look like one of these smaller elves.

Her long platinum hair shortened to her shoulders, her warm, aquamarine eyes shifted to a bright, stormy grey. She wandered about the camp, listened to the occupants who had brought the two she handled.

Deedo was obtaining nothing. The language was too difficult to grasp on verbality alone. Glances about the camp proved useful. Seeing a woman, a gatherer, head to a nearby grove of trees. Under the spell that hid her away completely followed behind, charming the young elf's mind. She probed, searching for what she needed.

Deedo released the girl, tested her new knowledge. Satisfied made her way back to the Elven camp. She sat by the fire listening, learning more of the smaller elves' language. Another few passes around the camp, locked eyes of her two bound traveling companions. She smiled softly, with an incline of her head caught them off guard, her attention then turned to their approaching leader, the Keeper they called him.

She saw Loghain and Maric gathered and led away. The Keeper tasked the Dalish to bring them before the witch of the wood, one they call Asha'bellanar.

Hours deeper, they trudged in the Kocari Wilds. A small group led the men deeper into the wood Deedo silent, her footsteps lighter than the kin of this land, has once again hidden.

As his pet flew, stopping on the Prince's shoulder, once at their destination, just near the edge of the wood, the Dalish untied them, turning headed back the way they came.

Leaving them to wander just a short ways away, she took wing to the highest tree, the old woman looked between the two men before her, "Ah, there is one more with you, where is she, I can feel her magic." Her wrinkled face seemed alight with wonder.

Deedo's heart raced, never had someone sensed her there, but it was time to reveal who she really is, she flew to the ground, from her place in the tree above them, just before she landed firmly shimmered into a light form like that of a young Dalish woman, removing her hood she walked between the two parted men who looked upon her in awe.

Loghain sputtered Maric along with him when she stood between them, "Hello, I am Deedolit..." she curtsied quickly to the wizen woman before her.

The witch looked her over, eyes narrowed, "That is not your body girl." Dismissing her mid-sentence.

Deedo stood tall, her head high, with a nod, "Of Felwithe." she shimmered once again, her hair shimmered to its natural lengths, her height elegant, sonsy and ample, her skin glowing warm. Maric was breathless. Loghain's eyes narrowed.

The old woman pondered aloud, "Felwithe, no place like that here. Where is it, I wonder?" She cackled, disregarding the men by the elf's side, appraising her.

Deedo felt a chill for the first time in her life. Her throat suddenly dried. She licked her lips. "Norrath." the ridges of where her thin, almost bald eyebrows rose, along with the men by her sides.

The fire barely hot enough to ward off the chill, Loghain alone with the Koada'dal inquired what he felt. "You are a mage. Figures. Was it you who aided our escape from the camp my father fell?"

Deedo nodded. "I wish I were stronger to have been able to save them. My apologies." She bowed her head, reaching into her cloak. She pulled a backpack out, seeing if in it anything that could ease his hunger. "Here. It is not much, some dried fish and bread, I am certain you are hungry."

Leery took it from her hand. As she reached back into her pack, she pulled a heavy, fur-lined cloak, offering it to him. "I have things for our friend as well."

Loghain grunted. Deedo, combing the tangles out of her long hair with her delicate hands, sighed. Loghain watched her, the motions lulling him, seeing her braided it quickly, then pulled her hair up, securing it with a thin dyed ribbon. Her small, tapered ear caught the eye of the Rogue beside her. "You're an elf!"

Deedo turned to face him, her face painted with amusement. The fire danced in her warm aqua eyes. She smiled. "Do not tell me this offends you as well?" She laughed at Loghain's discomfort, leaning in close. "Rather, I be a stupid bird?"