Author's Note: Time for our heroes to journey into the cursed forest and start to unravel the mystery. Hope you enjoy!
They approached the camp and noticed several Dalish hunters glaring at them, with bows drawn but not pointing directly at their group at least. Harry noted that most of them had some form of facial tattoos, including their guide Mithra.
"Have many of your clan been harmed by the werewolves?" he asked.
"Too many," she nodded.
"Do all of them succumb to the curse?"
"It seems to depend on how bad the wounds are," Mithra replied. "A scratch might not be enough, but a bite-"
"Is much more likely to lead to infection," he finished. "That's usually the way of things, so I'm not surprised it's the same here."
"I'm wondering how they were transformed in the middle of day," Sirius piped up.
"Once the curse takes hold, there is no going back," Mithra said.
"They're permanently transformed into werewolves," Morrigan added as she looked to the animagus. "These beasts are not shapeshifters such as you and I. 'Tis usually the case that they quickly become consumed by their feral nature and are nothing more than ravenous beasts."
"That really is a lot different from..." Sirius halted himself and sighed. "I wonder what it would be like if Mooney were here."
"He'd better be thanking me first and foremost," Harry snorted.
"What do you mean?"
"Didn't I tell you that he died in the final battle?"
"You told me he died in the war with Voldemort, but not much more," Sirius replied.
"Oh."
"We were a little drunk that night," Sirius added with a laugh. "I'm sure that both of us struggled to stay on topic."
Harry nodded. "Anyway, I was referring to my role as godfather for his son."
"Hope you did a better job than me," Sirius muttered. "But I'm surprised that Mooney would knock someone up during a war. Who was it?"
"Tonks." At Sirius' baffled look, Harry continued. "I'm not sure what drove the two of them together; I think it might have been one of those 'we're going to die, let's not die alone' sort of romances that pop up when people are desperate. From what I've heard, more than a few relationships started up like that during the couple of years after you were gone, when things were getting really dark. Not that many of them lasted, and I wondered if Tonks and Lupin wouldn't have fallen apart even if he had survived.
"But, thankfully, Andromeda stunned Tonks when she tried to follow after him to Hogwarts for the big showdown. She'd only had Teddy like a month beforehand."
"Teddy Lupin?" Sirius asked with a smile. "I'm not surprised by Andi doing that. She was always fierce and stubborn, even making her daughter seem like a softie in comparison. But what was Teddy like?"
"He was named after Tonks' dad, as you may have guessed," Harry replied. "He had been killed earlier that year. Teddy inherited his mum's powers, so we had to be careful about taking him out in public when he was small. He was a great kid- you would have loved him. Smart and sassy, and really protective over my kids. Teddy liked to think of himself as their 'cool older cousin' and I think Tonks sent him over to visit so much as a kid because she was reluctant to find someone else or anything for awhile.
"That, or she just wanted some unpaid babysitting," he finished with a chuckle.
"Did Mooney pass anything on?"
"No," Harry answered. "There was some concern over that, but Lupin's worries turned out to be unfounded."
"So, you got to play the father figure, huh?" Sirius grinned. "I bet that helped for when your kids came along."
"Not really," Harry snorted. "My first born was less than a year after him."
"What!?"
"It's a long story, involving a very stubborn redhead."
Sirius shook his head and turned into Padfoot, sniffing the air and then hurrying to the front of the group.
"I have heard that some clans still pass down that form of arcane knowledge, but I've never seen it myself," Mithra said.
"It is rare where we come from too," Harry answered.
She led them over to an older, bald elf- judging by the robes and staff he carried, a mage. It wasn't too much of a surprise that someone with magical power would be looked to as a leader, but it was still a nice change from what Harry had seen of how human society treated them.
"I see we have guests," the elf said as he eyed them warily.
"Zathrian, this one claims to be a Grey Warden," Mithra replied. "This is our Keeper, Zathrian."
"Greetings," Harry said.
"Ma serannas, Mithra, you may return to your post." Like the others, Zathrian also had facial tattoos, but it was a different design from the others Harry had seen so far. "A Grey Warden, hm? You have chosen a poor time to come to this forest."
"Because of the werewolves?" Morrigan posited.
"They have struck at our clan relentlessly," Zathrian said with a scowl. "Filthy beasts. But I suppose I must ask why you are here. We already know of the coming Blight."
"We were looking for allies to deal with the darkspawn," Harry replied.
"Our clan is unable to lend you aid," the Keeper said as he led them over towards a group of wounded elves on cots, some of them moaning and thrashing in pain. "We came to the Brecilian Forest one month ago, and while we are always wary of the dangers in the forest, we did not expect the werewolves to be lying in wait to ambush us. Though we drove them back, many of our warriors now lie dying. Even with all our magic and healing skill, we will eventually be forced to slay our brethren to prevent them from becoming rabid beasts."
"Is there no cure?" Harry asked.
"The affliction is a curse that runs rampant in their blood, bringing great agony and then death to the lucky ones," Zathrian answered. "The unlucky transform into monsters, with little thought for anything other than destruction once their minds are lost to the curse. The only thing that may help them comes from the source of the curse itself, but... it would be a difficult task for even the most powerful mages and warriors."
"That's what we're here for," Oghren piped up with a grin on his face. "Dangerous creatures to slay is what I'm all about."
"What would we need to do?" Leliana asked.
"Deep within the Brecilian Forest, there dwells a great white wolf- we call him Witherfang. It was within him that the curse originated, and through his blood it has been spread. If he is killed and his heart is 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," Zathrian said. "I cannot risk any more of my clan."
"Sounds like we've got a quest," Sirius said.
"I must warn you that more than werewolves lurk in the forest," Zathrian replied. "It has a history full of carnage and murder, you see. Where there is so much death, the Veil separating our world from the spirit realm becomes thin, allowing spirits to possess the living or the dead. Tread carefully. But if you can indeed help, then I wish you luck."
"We'll do what we can to help," Wynne said.
"Let's look around the camp a little before we go," Harry suggested.
"Shall we split up?" Leliana asked.
"'Twould be quicker that way," Morrigan agreed.
"I want to go take a sniff of those cursed elves," Sirius said. "See if I can tell anything about them, any ways they may be similar or different from the werewolves back home."
"Good idea," Harry replied. "I want to check with what appears to be a merchant of some sort; I'm curious to see what all the Dalish make and whatever they may be willing to trade."
"I shall come with you," Morrigan said.
The others headed in separate directions, with Oghren and Shale both grumbling about wanting to get on with it but deciding to keep Wynne company.
Harry found an older elf scolding what looked to be his apprentice.
"What are you doing?" he said. "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."
"You're not smelting ore like a durgen'len," Varathorn complained. "This is living wood. It requires patience and delicate hands, not more heat!"
"My actions bring me sorrow, Master Varathorn."
"And so they should," the older man said. "Truly, the art will be lost at this rate. Throw away your dead wood and start anew, and I shall speak to our guests."
"Greetings," Harry said, watching as the apprentice was dismissed and went back to a crafting table where he began to study a piece of wood.
"What can I do for you?"
"I was curious to see what all the Dalish make here," Harry said with a smile. "I must admit that I have never met any of your kind before, and I am quite interested."
"Then you've come to the right place," Varathorn replied. "I am the clan's craftsmaster. It is my responsibility to learn what I can if the ancient elven arts of shaping wood and ore and then to pass that knowledge on. In truth, we Dalish know little of the arts compared to what we once did, and even what we know has taken us many lifetimes to achieve.
"There is wood that, if treated properly, is as hard as steel but far lighter. It grows only in this forest- ironbark." Varathorn took a moment to sigh. "Unfortunately, because of the recent attacks, the Keeper has forbidden us from entering the forest to collect the wood. This means I cannot make our finest crafts for years to come."
"We're heading into the forest soon," Harry replied. "Perhaps we can keep an eye out for you."
"I would be hesitant to ask it of you, but if you should come across it, I suppose there would be no harm in gathering some," Varathorn said. "It is blue and very distinctive. You can only harvest the bark which has fallen off the tree from age. If you find some, bring it to me and I will craft something for you."
"I'll see what I can do."
Morrigan pulled him aside as they walked off. "You don't actually have to harvest the bark from a dead tree. That's merely how the Dalish prefer to do things."
"Have you seen it before?"
"Yes, Flemeth had a staff made of ironbark."
"Good, then you can tell me if you spot any of it," Harry said. "And if we can, I will do as the elves ask. If there is a tree that has fallen, we may as well use it rather than killing one that still grows."
"If you must," she rolled her eyes.
Padfoot came bounding over, barked and shifted back into his human form. "There are definitely some differences I smelled on the wounded elves. But it is still a dark curse, that much I could tell. And a permanent transformation?" He shivered in disgust. "I think Mooney would have killed himself rather than live with that."
"That means we all need to be particularly careful," Harry said.
"Agreed."
Leliana was shaking her head sadly as she came upon them a moment later. "That poor man. Sirius, Harry, we need to look for a woman named Danyla in the forest. Her husband was told she died, but there was no body found. He believes she may have been affected by the curse."
"That's not good," Sirius said. "We don't have a way to cure her, if she has been bit."
"But we may find something in the forest," Harry countered. He gave the bard a hopeful look. "We'll see what we can do. If she survived, it may not be too late."
"I pray the Maker shows his mercy," Leliana bowed her head.
"Hey, uh, Harry?" Oghren nodded behind him to Shale who was helping a shocked looking Wynne. "There might be even more stuff going on in these ancestor-forsaken woods."
"He's alive!" Wynne said with tears in her eyes. "Aneiren is alive!"
"Your lost apprentice?" Harry asked once he remembered the name.
"The clan's storyteller said there is an elven healer who travels alone nearby," she replied. "The templars didn't kill him."
"A couple of the hunters also said they'd seen him," Oghren added.
"We'd better hurry then," Leliana said. "We should warn him before the werewolves come across him."
"Good thinking."
"The trees might be too thick to use the carpet," Sirius frowned.
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Everyone get your weapons ready because we're venturing into hostile territory."
Almost as soon as the elven camp was out of sight, they came across several rabid wolves that immediately charged down upon them.
"Werewolves in the rear!" Leliana shouted as she loosed an arrow up the slight incline.
"I see them," Sirius called out as well, sending a Blasting Curse towards the humanoid enemies.
Harry fired upon them as well while the rest of the group took care of the four legged monsters. Oghren and Shale delighted in smashing the wolves foolish enough to attack such a heavily armed group.
"Look at this one," Leliana said as she pointed to one of the downed creatures. "Is that because of the Blight?"
Harry and Morrigan stepped closer to the clearly infected wolf. It had spiky growths coming out of its fur and looked to be beyond rabid as it had charged them. He let his magic flow outwards and briefly felt the dead thing before nodding. "Yes, it was the Blight that did this."
"We shall have to be careful of Blight-infected creatures," Wynne said. "They can contaminate us as well."
"Don't get bit by anything," Sirius added. He shifted forms, sniffed at the dead, and then looked up. Once Padfoot was finished, he turned human again. "I smell more of these things nearby. Both the wolves and the weres. I think I smelled an elf too, and something else. Something strange."
"These things are never easy," Harry chuckled.
Shortly thereafter, they came to a place where the path diverged near a small waterfall. A few old wooden beams laid a path further into the wilderness. And across those boards, came bounding three werewolves who skidded to a stop and stood up like huge, hulking men.
The tallest of them had brown fur and it growled in a low voice as they approached but held up his hand to stop the others from attacking. "The watch wolves have spoken truly my brothers and sisters. The Dalish have sent outsiders- humans- to repay us for our attack. To put us in our place. What bitter irony."
"So, they're not all raving beasts?" Leliana muttered. "I hope that is a good thing."
"I am called Swiftrunner," the lead werewolf replied. "I lead my cursed brothers and sisters. I have no quarrel with you. Hrrr. Turn back now and tell the Dalish you have failed. Tell them we will gladly watch them suffer the same curse we have suffered for far too long. We will watch them pay!"
"Why do you want them to suffer?" Harry asked. "I would see this conflict brought to an end-"
"Was it not Zathrian who sent you?" Swiftrunner asked. "He wishes only to see our destruction, never to talk! You know nothing, do you? Nothing of us, and even less of those you serve. You are a fool, and we are done talking.
"Run from the forest while you can," he growled. "Run to the Dalish, and tell them they are doomed!"
"It doesn't have to be this way," Leliana argued.
"Come brothers and sisters, let us retreat," Swiftrunner called to the others. "The forest has eyes of its own, and it will deal with intruders as it always has."
They bounded away at that, quickly vanishing deeper into the woods.
"How pleasant," Harry sighed. "And there are even more things here, it sounds like. If the Blight has spread into the woods already-"
"Then there are likely darkspawn about," Sirius finished. "Let me see if I can sniff anything out."
Padfoot appeared and breathed in the air several times before barking and pointing with one raised paw down a path to their right. He bounded in that direction and the rest of the group followed.
They shortly came across a wounded elf, struggling to crawl away from where an obvious skirmish had left some of his brethren dead.
"What?" he gasped. "Who... who comes?"
"Let us take him back to camp," Wynne said as she knelt down to try to care for his wounds.
"We were sent to find Witherfang," he said with a moan. "To bring his heart... back. I-"
He collapsed onto the ground and Wynne muttered even as she channeled healing magic into his wounds.
"I will carry the little elf," Shale said as she picked up the now unconscious man with a sigh.
"He should be stabilized for the moment," Wynne added.
"Oghren, go with them," Harry said. "Keep them safe."
"But-"
"We're going to look around a little more, and then follow you back to the elves," he interrupted the complaint. "I think we need to have another conversation about why these werewolves appear to want some sort of revenge."
"Fine," the dwarf grumbled. "But don't kill anything cool without me."
Harry snorted as his friend walked off, great maul still in hand as he accompanied the golem and Wynne.
"Did you get a whiff of anything else as Padfoot?" he asked a moment later.
"The trees smell strange," Sirius replied. "And maybe some darkspawn too. Not very close, but there's definitely something unnatural here."
"Alright, everyone stay sharp."
A few minutes later, Morrigan grabbed Harry's arm and pointed to a downed tree. "That's ironbark."
"I see it," he said but frowned for a moment. "Something feels off, there's some sort of magic in the air."
"From the tree itself?" Sirius asked. "I remember the Whomping Willow had a rather aggressive aura about it."
"I'm not sure," Harry replied as they walked closer to it.
He got his answer as one of the other nearby trees came to life, uprooting itself onto two stalks like legs and smashing its limbs down to bash into them. The attack was a surprise, but Harry was even more struck by how it seemed to shift itself into an almost humanoid shape.
They all leapt back as best they could and began their counterattack. Morrigan, Harry, and Sirius all used various types of fire magic and the tree let out a pained shriek as it burned and fell.
"Sylvans," Morrigan scowled. "Trees possessed by spirits and turned into dangerous monsters."
"They can just hide like that?" Leliana asked. "I thought spirit possessed creatures were always mad with rage."
"Perhaps 'tis something in the nature of a tree," Morrigan replied thoughtfully. "That would calm the rage demons enough, at least until suitable prey came in range."
"So, we just had the bad luck to wake it up?" Sirius grumbled. "I'm seriously getting tired of this damn forest already."
Harry laughed. "It sort of reminds me of home, actually."
"The Forbidden Forest?" his godfather asked and Harry nodded. "I guess it's good that we haven't run into any giant spiders here then."
"Let's gather some of this wood and then head back," Harry suggested.
"What do we need the wood for?" Leliana wondered.
"A craftsmen back at the camp requested it," Morrigan replied. "I suggest we keep some for ourselves as well."
"I was planning on it," Harry agreed. "I would think this stuff would be good for making a staff, and whenever I have some time to spare, I'm going to learn how to do just that."
"How shall we do this?" Sirius asked. "Cutting charms, I guess?"
"I'll keep a few branches, but we'll shrink down and take the trunk back to Varathorn," he answered. "That should give him plenty of wood to work with for quite some time to come."
"Works for me."
"And I think once we're done here, it will be time to head back to the Dalish," Harry said. As he began to wave his wand over the fallen tree, he continued, "I think there's more going on here. Zathrian said the werewolves were just mindless beasts, but that clearly isn't true."
"Then the question remains," Morrigan began, "was this mere ignorance on his part, or was he lying to us?"
"There is only one way to find out," Leliana added.
Harry decided to speak with Varathorn the craftsman first. He hadn't lied to them, and he was very curious about seeing what the Dalish would do with this strange wood.
"You've returned so quickly," the elf quirked up an eyebrow as they approached. "I wouldn't think you would have had time to find something so soon."
"Perhaps we got lucky," Harry replied as he unshrunk the massive trunk of the tree.
"You brought back so much!" Varathorn smiled. "Thank you, Grey Warden."
"You're welcome. I don't suppose you would be willing to explain any of your crafting knowledge to me?"
"I am sorry, but it is forbidden to teach an outsider," he replied. "But I will happily craft something for you. Perhaps a bow or a breastplate? Actually, because of your generosity, I shall craft both. You have earned it."
"I understand, and thank you," Harry said.
"They will not be finished for a day or two, but I will give you my best work, that I can promise," Varathorn said.
"I appreciate it."
Oghren and Shale joined them a moment later.
"The elder mage has decided to work on healing some of the squishy little elves," Shale began. "That one I carried back is already lucid again. It looked rather frightened as it thanked me for rescuing it."
"I can imagine," Harry chuckled.
"You came following us faster than I thought you would," Oghren added.
"Unfortunately, my friend, we did kill something cool without you."
"Dammit, Harry!"
He grinned in response. "Don't worry, I have a feeling we're going to run into even more trees possessed by spirits that you can help us fight next time."
"There better be," the dwarf replied.
"If what the stories say is true, this forest has seen so much bloodshed over the ages that I am certain there will be more rage demons that have become Sylvans," Morrigan added. "Perhaps that is what the one calling itself Swiftrunner meant when it said that the forest would deal with intruders as it always has?"
"Could be," Harry nodded. "We'll have to keep our fire spells at the ready then."
"Time to talk to a man about some wolves," Sirius said.
"Indeed."
The group walked over to the middle of the camp where the Keeper stood. Harry took the lead as they approached.
"I have heard you returned one of our hunters," Zathrian began. "I thank you."
"We ran into some werewolves," Harry replied. "They spoke to us."
"Speak actual words?" Zathrian seemed to find the concept unbelievable. "Those feral beasts? I find it hard to believe, and even if it were true, I doubt they would have anything worthwhile to say."
"They sounded like they had a grudge against your people," Sirius suggested. "Do you have any idea why?"
"The same grudge they hold against any who they come across in the forest, I would guess," he scoffed. "The werewolves are unimportant: it is Witherfang you must seek out. If the beasts attempt to keep you from him, then your course is clear.
"Ask our historian Sarel or my apprentice Lanaya if you have more questions about those monsters," Zathrian added. "I have work to do, if you please."
"Thank you for your time," Harry replied as he waved the rest of his group over into a circle and then cast a privacy charm.
"What a bunch of bullshit," Sirius snorted.
"He was definitely hiding something," Leliana agreed.
"True," Harry said. "We will need to be careful as we go further into the forest. I have a feeling there's a lot more to this curse than we've been told."
"Shall we try the historian first or the apprentice?" Leliana asked.
"Historian, I think."
"What can you tell us about the werewolves?" Sirius asked.
The middle aged elf sat around a campfire with a few children and hunters; he seemed happy to respond. "We know only what Zathrian has told us over the years. I hadn't seen one myself before the attack."
"If these creatures are supposedly so mindless, then how did they ambush you?" Leliana wondered.
"A good question," Sarel said. "The Keeper says that they are simply cunning, that any beast may lie in wait... but this seemed to be more than that."
One of the hunters interjected, "These are no mere beasts. It was planned."
"Then the real question is why the Keeper would insist that it is not so," Sarel added.
"Why would he lie?" Sirius prodded.
"I do not believe he would lie," Sarel replied. "But even the wisest of men do not always see the truth in front of them, nor do they always wish to."
"Do they have any other abilities that you know of?" Sirius asked.
"They can shapeshift into wolves, allowing them the ability to hide amidst the normal animals."
"Hmm." Sirius scratched his head. "I wonder if I could sniff them out when they're in that form."
"We might not have the chance to check," Harry replied.
"My magic would probably be more useful than Padfoot, if we're thinking there will be more attacks still to come."
"I'm afraid if you venture back into the woods, then you must be prepared for exactly that," Sarel answered.
"Thank you for your time," Harry said as he stood up and wandered away, spotting a female elf dressed in robes and also wielding a staff. He assumed this would have to be Zathrian's apprentice; she was also much younger than the Keeper.
"I heard Deygan is alive thanks to you," she began pleasantly. "We are most grateful."
"You are Lanaya?" he asked.
"Yes, I am first to our Keeper," she replied. "If I seem any different from the rest of my clan, it is only because I was born amongst humans. I came to the Dalish at a very young age, but I've always retained my curiosity about the world I came from."
"How did you come to join the Dalish then?"
"My parents were servants to a human merchant whose caravans plied the southern routes," Lanaya said, her voice growing a bit softer. "One day bandits came and killed my parents, the merchant, and... I was the only survivor, just a young girl, and the bandits took me. I was their... servant... for several years."
"I am very sorry," Leliana replied in a kind voice. "That must have been horrible."
"It was," the elf admitted. "Though after long years of reflection, I have been able to come to terms with it and put things in perspective. I can only imagine what would have happened had the clan not saved me from them. I owe them my life for that. And more."
"How did they rescue you?" Harry asked.
"The bandits killed a scout when the clan passed near their camp," she answered. "When the clan discovered them, Zathrian came looking for his killers. He followed their tracks for almost a month, and when he finally caught up to us, he fell upon the bandits like a terror. No one could stop him. I sat there and I watched him attack them in a blur, and I reveled in every blow.
"When he saw me, the fury in his eyes turned to pity," Lanaya's voice betrayed the immense adoration she clearly had for her mentor and hero. "He took me back to the clan, and I have been here ever since."
"Did you not have any other family?" Leliana asked.
"It's possible," she shrugged. "None that I knew well or could find though. Zathrian offered to take me back where I was from, but I had no idea where that was, and I wanted to stay with the man who rescued me. The clan is my family. Any others out there... it's best they believe that little girl died with her parents. I suppose, in a way, she did.
"For now, the clan is all I need. My old world could not have offered me all this. Perhaps, one day when I am Keeper, I might inquire out of curiosity. I'm not sure what lies down that road except pain, however."
"How does one become a Keeper?" Harry asked.
"I am merely Zathrian's first for now," Lanaya replied. "Though because I was not born in the clan, becoming his first was very difficult. We Dalish have old traditions. The clans come from the ranks of nobility that once ruled the Dales, you see. The Keepers of those clans have the strongest and purest blood that reaches back to the days of Arlathan. I had to compete against the other candidates for first, to be better than them in everything simply because I was not of the old blood."
"That sounds familiar," Sirius snorted.
Harry could only nod in agreement. "I would guess some resentment occurred then?"
"No," Lanaya said. "Zathrian told me that time would take away their prejudices, and it did. They became used to me. The clan has placed great trust in me. One day, I will lead them and be the one who secures our future."
"What can you tell us about Zathrian?" Harry asked.
"Nothing that you could not ask him yourself," she replied. "He is the Keeper of this clan and has been for a very long time. He is also a very good man who has lost much. The Dalish are everything to him, and he would do anything to protect them."
Harry knew the sound of something important, and so he pressed her. "What has he lost?"
"He... lost his family," Lanaya said sadly. "A very long time ago. I don't know the story, but I understand the circumstances were horrific."
"I am sorry for his loss," he replied solemnly. "We thank you for your time."
"I wish you well, Grey Warden," Lanaya bowed her head. "Dareth shiral."
Wynne joined them as they headed back into the woods.
"It seems we found more questions than answers," she said after they had told her what they had discovered.
"I believe the grudge between the werewolves and Zathrian may be quite personal," Harry said. "His hatred of them gave that away."
"You think it was werewolves that killed his family?" Sirius asked.
"'Twould make sense," Morrigan agreed.
"He specifically didn't seem to care about them being able to speak, merely wanting us to press the attack until we slayed this great wolf he claims is at the center of everything," Harry explained. "That sounds like a prejudice born out of rage to me."
"It would also explain why he didn't think they could be intelligent enough to lay an ambush," Leliana added. "If he is not thinking clearly, he could have led his clan right into danger."
"Great," Sirius grumbled. "And now we've got to clean up the mess."
Harry sighed and trudged further along the path. "We do seem to be doing quite a lot of that. Everyone, be on guard. Who knows what we'll run into next."
