And the Prophet stood beside Shartan

And shouted to her host:

"Behold! Our champion!"

And gave to him the blade of her own mother

From her own scabbard, Glandivalis, saying:

"Take this, my champion,

And free our people forever."

Shartan 10, 1-7

You'll see why ;)

'I'm like, totally freaked the fuck out, 'k?' Sera muttered. 'Fucking freaked out!'

Veldrin sighed, and chose to ignore her, instead setting her reproachful glance on Dorian.

'So this was your grand plan,' she dryly said. 'Red Jenny. Red Jenny?'

'I'm sorry, did you have a better one, or knew of another group who'd break into Chantries, Grey Warden fortresses and rob Nevarran merchants blind with no qualms?' Dorian frowned. 'And Sera did deliver. She always does.'

'Don't forget me and the boys, boss,' the Bull said.

'Can't forget you, Bull, you broke three of my ribs,' Veldrin sighed.

'That's 'cause you were going bat-shit crazy with that glowy ball of death, ok?' the Qunari said, shrugging his massive shoulders. 'I mean, Dorian said we might find you a little…off, but I was assuming you were all doe-eyed and tearful, not…'

'Bat-shit crazy,' Sera agreed. 'What the fuck was that? 'Cuz that sure didn't look like any healin' spell I ever seen!'

'That may perhaps be because you haven't seen too much, Sera,' Dorian tiredly said.

'Yeh, an' the less of that crap I'm gonna see, the happier I'm gonna be…'

'Excuse me for butting in,' Dalish said, putting her bow back in its sheath on her back. 'Don't we have better things to do then guilt-tripping her wor…'

'Veldrin,' Veldrin said, pleadingly. 'Not your worship, or Herald. Please.'

The blonde elf gave her a suspiciously narrowed glance, but then shrugged. 'Right…Veldrin. That was quite impressive, yet…'

'Impressive?' Sera screamed, stomping her foot. 'It looked like what blasted Corypenis might 'ave done, and she looked like she was gonna puke out a rage demon! Through her eyes!'

'Yes, well, we can all have a go at her for that later,' Dalish said, cranking her nose. 'All together, or in turns, or as you like it – for the moment, however, I suggest the more pressing issue is what we do with…these.'

And, Veldrin thought, looking about herself with in the cruel light of day, these were many. Most of them – some thirty – dead, but some fifteen still alive and injured. Krem and Skinner had tied the survivors up securely, and, to much of Veldrin's surprise, Maevaris had gone about healing whatever injuries she could.

The warriors did not speak to her, and looked away from her glance, but not spat or growled insults, either; they looked ashamed and bewildered, by the same measure, and though they probably had no grasp of the common tongue, had understood that the blonde Tevinter-vashoth had not only insisted on easing their suffering, but also prevented Skinner from severing their ankle tendons, which the city elf regarded as perfectly reasonable precaution.

The dead had been gathered on the other side of the small clearing, not in a pile, but laying side by side. It was likely that not all mangled bodies had gotten their just severed parts, yet Krem had done as well as he could have…and Creators, Veldrin dazedly thought, any chance of bypassing the natives was now dead, too.

'Oh, Gods,' she whispered, shaking her head. 'How do we get out of this fuck-up, Bull?'

'Apology's a bit out of the question, no?' Dorian smirked.

'Apologies for what, Dorian?' the Qunari warrior asked, in an ill-fitting, kind tone. 'They came at you.'

'Seemed a bit confused about the lack of 'My slaves, my slaves, where are my slaves?' shouting, as well,' the Tevinter replied, arching an eyebrow.

'See?' Bull replied, smiling. 'When you brow me like that, you give me...'

'Well, about that, Bull,' Veldrin said, noticing that for once her husband was blushing to the tips of his ears, 'maybe Dorian has failed to mention this, but…He's with someone.'

'Oh no, boss,' the warrior sincerely rushed to reassure, 'I haven't missed your rings and all, I was there when you exchanged them, remember? A bit out of it, but hey, I was there. Just, you know, I didn't think you mind me having a go, for old times' sake? Or hell, why not share, when there's enough of the Bull to go both ways...'

'Corpses,' Dalish chimed, in barely refrained exasperation. 'Hostages! Corpses!'

'You're the ruin of every party, Dalish, you know that?' the Qunari sighed. 'Right. Corpses. What do you want me to do with the corpses?'

'You're killing them, chief,' Krem said, approaching and eyeing his superior in open reproach. 'Not the corpses,' he clarified.

The Bull sighed. 'No one is going to let me enjoy a second of this, I see. Fine…Look, you're all looking at me as I know something you don't but I promise you…'

'You fought on Seheron more than anyone here has,' Dorian said, shaking his head. 'You must know more.'

'No, Dorian, I don't,' the Bull answered, a tinge of anger in his voice. 'I've never even seen a Fog Warrior corpse before – they never leave them behind, so you can't count them.'

He heavily leaned against a tree and beheld the small clearing with a narrowed eye. 'Fine, let's pretend I'm the expert. Two things can happen here – either there's another Fog Warrior settlement within a day's march from here, and these here sounded the alarm, in which case,' he grinned, 'we make more corpses. Other thing is we give them their corpses back – if we're not keen on making more of them…corpses, that is, maybe they'll like that.'

'There is no other settlement nearby,' Dalish said, shaking her head.

'Riight, cuz you know that with your woodsy-elfy senses?' Sera shot back.

'No,' Skinner said, approaching in turn and measuring Sera will ill-disguised despise, 'she knows that because she has been scouting the area for the past three days, since we have been sitting here idly, and waiting for this lot of Tevinter squishies to finally show face.'

'An' how I don't know that?' Sera smirked.

'Because you and the chief were off your faces the entire time,' Krem sighed. 'You only got up to puke, ask if they're here already, eat and get off your faces again.'

'Good times!' the Qunari said, punching a fist in the air. A sharp whistle, masterfully imitating a mocking bird drew his attention and made him straighten.

'There are no mocking birds in these woods,' Veldrin tensely said – she sought Dalish's eyes, and Dalish nodded.

'That's Grim's signal, so we're about to either make more corpses, or find out what they do with them,' Bull said. 'Either way…'

He straightened, and shifted his axe's hilt into position.

'Mae,' Veldrin called, but it was not needed; Maevaris stood from the injured man she was kneeling by, and came to her side; a second later, Grim, who did not say much but was talented at whistling, perched on one of the branches above.

'Mythal'enaste,' Dalish whispered.

'Fuck Mythal,' Skinner sneered, pulling her dagger.

No fog rose. White, silken banners embroidered in green led the procession up the path to the clearing, plainly visible under the branches that Veldrin had burned.

'It's all women and children,' Veldrin whispered to Dorian; he swiftly nodded, and gripped her hand.

'It might just mean their men are gathering behind us, you touchy-feely, properly wed turtle doves,' the Bull said. 'Don't let your guard down.'

They advanced too fast for too much thought to occur. 'Bull, your Qunlat is better than mine,' Veldrin hastily said.

'Your Qunlat is shit, boss,' the warrior said; he stepped forth nonetheless, then looked over his shoulder to Dorian. 'Give her back that little glowy ball of death, Kadan,' The Bull said. 'Just in case.'

'Not unless I am bleeding to death,' Dorian hissed, simply holding his wife's hand tighter.

'If you're happy to wait until then, sure,' Bull shrugged, then truly went to stand before the small procession of women and children; all set knee to ground before him, and lowered their glances.

'Anaan esaam Qun1', the woman who led the procession said; a young woman behind her let her tears loose, looking at the corpses lain side by side. 'Extra Imperiae nulla salus.2' The elder added, heavily focussing on pronouncing each word and looking to Dorian.

'They're so terrified they don't even know who to talk to,' Maevaris whispered – and indeed, it was not difficult to grasp their terror and confusion, for, to their eyes, Bull still very much looked like a member of the Beresaad, while Dorian's robes and staff screamed Tevinter; the warrior and the mage exchanged glances, and Dorian took a very wide and telling step back.

'Thanks,' the Iron Bull muttered, between clenched teeth.

The sight was heart-rending, for those who were not weeping quietly had obviously been weeping before; pain and incredulity mixed on their features, and subdued anger glowed in the eyes of the younger male children. It was not hard to tell why – these people, Veldrin thought, biting her lower lip, had fought both Imperium forces and the Beresaad, and somehow survived only to be laid to waste by a group of ten misfits who did not even have the look of soldiers. And now…

Bull softly spoke in a variant of Qunlat Veldrin barely understood; she guessed that he told the village tamassran there was nothing to fear, and no reason to kneel – the woman struggled to keep her features straight, and furtively looked over her shoulder to the others, as if making sure that they had all heard the same thing. She did not stand, but raised her glance to his and responded in the same dialect.

The Qunari warrior breathed out hotly and looked to the side. 'Oh, fuck,' he said – the group before him took the brief exclamation for a sign of anger and unconsciously huddled even closer together; the prisoners fidgeted, struggling against their bonds. Skinner made her dagger glint, in open threat, rendering the air even heavier.

'What she is saying,' the Iron Bull translated, looking to the tips of his shoes as if he'd meant to set them on fire with his stare, 'is that they are but a small village, not worthy of our wrath, and that last night we have taken all but ten of their weapon carrying men.'

Veldrin nodded – that single gesture made the group before her breathe out in fear.

The female elder spoke again, in a trembling voice; the Bull translated as she spoke, this time.

'She says they do not know how to appease us, but that…'

The elder unexpectedly stood, and walked amid the others, plucking a young boy from the arms of his mother; the woman sunk her face to her fists, but those around her did not dare offer comfort – as the tamassran advanced, pushing the boy forth by the shoulders, Veldrin recognised the little scout from the previous eve, and her heart sank.

She instinctively knew what was coming.

'She hopes that the child who angered our demon will be enough of a gift to pacify it,' the Bull said, at the same time as the tamassran. His voice was trembling; hers was not. She shoved the young scout forth, then returned to kneeling under her banners, and for the first time, she looked Veldrin straight in the eyes.

Not once had she looked to the adult prisoners. She probably thought them dead already…and it was all too much to bear. Veldrin let go of Dorian's hand and took a swift step forward; had the Bull not gotten in her way, she might have picked up the child and put him back in his mother's arms, but the Qunari warrior decisively barred her path.

'I know what you want to do, boss,' he spoke, in the common tongue and in a guttural growl.

'No, you don't,' Veldrin breathed. 'I'm not a monster. I'm not a monster.'

'I know you're not,' the Iron Bull said. 'But they don't, and that is good. Very good. Means we won't be making any more corpses.'

'You're not seriously suggesting…' Dorian angrily rasped.

'I'm not,' the Qunari said, switching to Tevene. 'But if there is one thing I know about Fog Warriors is that they don't understand mercy when it's applied to them. What they do understand is fairness, fear, and respect, and at the moment, they are scared shitless of you, boss.'

'If you do what you're planning to do,' he said to Veldrin, 'which is burst into tears, give that boy a hug and put him back in his momma's arms, you'll show that you are nothing to be feared, they'll laugh about the entire thing around their fires tonight, and be back to stab us in our sleep in a day's time.'

'I'm not taking the child hostage, Bull,' Veldrin said, angrily gritting her teeth.

'No, you're not,' the Qunari nodded. 'But not because you're showing mercy, but because he's too menial a sacrifice. As are these others,' he said, somewhat too theatrically gesturing towards the bound prisoners. 'You're getting angry – good. If you feel like giving me a good smack, do it.'

'I actually feel like giving you a good smack,' the elf replied, her eyes glowing with rage.

'That's my boss,' the Bull grinned. 'The only way we keep them, and others like them off our backs is if we keep them thinking that we'll be on theirs. So what we do now,' he said, 'is that you walk up there, say something in elven – whatever you want to, a prayer to Sylaise, if you're so inclined – just make it sound like you're about to blow up again, dismiss the kid, dismiss the others, and walk off, with your chin high…Now, smack me. The deal I'm bringing you is crap.'

'You can take a man out of the Ben-Hassrath, but you can't take the Ben-Hassrath out of the man,' Dorian muttered – and cringed as Veldrin did smack the Qunari, not once, but twice, then brushed past him to glare at the Fog Warriors.

She spoke in a low, raspy voice, clearly pronouncing each word, and making the sweet tongue of the Elvhen sound like the most terrible of Old Tevene curses; Bull spoke softly from behind her, and all watched as the assembled Fog Warriors began to truly shiver in terror. In truth, the combination of Veldrin's angrily recited words and Iron Bull's hiss was terrifying to even their own group.

Except, of course, those who actually spoke Elvhen.

'Don't laugh,' Skinner hissed, to Dalish. 'For fuck's sake, don't blow it.'

'Trying,' Dalish hissed back. 'Not sure how long I can hold it…'

Fortunately, the two very different ordeals were soon finished; Veldrin dismissed it all with a wave of her arm, and walked to the back of her own group, staff in fiery focus – in terror induced haste, the Fog Warriors stood, rushing to free their men, and collect the corpses of their dead; the boy who'd been at the center of it all was shaking so hard that his mother had to carry him away – it was only when the thoroughly defeated Fog Warriors had truly disappeared amid the trees, and Grim gave another mocking bird whistle, signaling the all clear, that Dalish could hold herself no longer, and collapsed to the ground laughing so hard she had to hold her stomach.

Veldrin had to take but one look at her, and started laughing too, tears streaming though the corners of her eyes.

'Some demon you are, lethallan,' Dalish managed. 'You almost killed me there…'

'What's wit ya?' Sera spat. 'Ya just made all those poor people shit themselves, and now you're laughing your asses off? Ya wrong in the head or summat?'

'Yes,' Maevaris said, scowling horribly. 'I fail to see the funny side of any of this. What the hell did she say?' she asked Skinner. 'It made my blood freeze…'

The city elf measured her through half lidded eyes. 'Well, that could be because you're a delicate blossom, Vint.'

'Ey, Skinner, play nicely,' the Bull said, glancing at Dalish and Vel and shaking his head in confusion of his own. 'That slap couldn't have fooled a grandmother, but you sounded like you were conjuring a high dragon…What did you say?'

'Oh come on,' Dalish managed, propping herself on one elbow. 'What could possibly make an elf – a dalish elf – sound that angry? She recited half the Canticle of Shartan…'

'…the part where Andraste named him her champion,' Vel completed, between her own chuckles. 'I am sure Cassie's hat is on fire - hope she's not wearing it...'

Maevaris sighed in defeat, and Dorian unceremoniously slapped his forehead.

1 Victory is in the Qun

2 Nothing succeeds outside the Imperium

Well, at least some of our heroes still have a sense of humour after terrifying the local populace and half of their own party o.O The rest of them, as we see, are not positively impressed :P

Up next - Great food, but not great fun will be had by all.

Thank you for reading and commenting