Chapter 4: The Women in the Wilds
Morrigan led them deeper into the wilds, both Daveth and Jory looked like they were about to turn tail and run any minute. Alistair watched the dark haired girl closely, his Templar training allowed him to sense magic, and she…she was quite strong with it.
She told them that she had the treaties, or rather her mother did, hopefully they would be able to gather them up quickly and be done with.
Despite everything that had happened, Alim was enjoying himself, it was not often that someone got to meet an actual living, breathing witch in person.
The fact that she was attractive was just icing on the cake.
And it seemed that he was not the only one who thought so.
He smirked at the former Templar.
"What," Alistair demanded.
The elf's smirk widened into a full grin.
"Just a little friendly advice Alistair," he chuckled, "You should put your tongue back in your mouth before you trip over it."
"My…I…WHAT!" Alistair stammered.
"You're staring at her," he said motioning to their guide, "stop it."
Alistair turned scarlet.
"I'm watching her for any signs of betrayal," he stammered in a low voice, he did not wish for Morrigan to hear them, "I'm being careful…that doesn't mean I think she is attractive."
"Alistair, you would have to be blind not to think she was attractive," the elf chuckled, "Maker, she is not even my race and I find her attractive."
"Just remember," Alistair hissed, "she is a witch, and she is evil and meeeean."
"You're such a little girl," Alim said rolling his eyes.
The former Templar glared at him, he wasn't staring at the woman lustfully, she was an apostate, and she was dangerous.
She was an attractive, dangerous apostate.
He would just have to focus on that.
IOI
They emerged from the Korcari Wilds and found themselves before a small hut. The place had the look of something that had been here for centuries, if not longer. An old woman sat in a rocking chair near the fire, an old fox fur shawl covered her shoulders, long wild gray hair tangled from the top of her head.
Morrigan nodded to her as they approached, Alim guessed that this was Mother.
"Greetings, Mother," the young witch said with a slight bow, "I bring before you four grey wardens who…"
"I can see them girl," the woman interrupted, she looked them all over closely, "Hmm, much as I suspected," the old woman purred.
"Do you expect us to believe that we were expected," Alistair chuckled.
"You are required to do nothing least of all believe," the old witch hissed, "shut one's eyes tight or open one's eyes wide, either way, ones a fool."
"She is a witch I'm telling you," Daveth warned, "We should not be talking to her!"
"Quiet Daveth," Jory hissed, "If she is a witch, do you really want to make her mad?"
The old woman chuckled.
"There is a smart lad," she purred, her eyes fell on Alim then, the elf felt the power in the old woman's gaze…she…she was more than what they were seeing here, he was sure of it.
What she truly was however, even he was not sure.
The old woman smiled.
"Long has it been since I have seen your kind, young man," she smiled.
"Elves don't pass this way huh?" he asked.
"Not ones with your gifts, dear boy," she smirked, "Tell me…what do you believe? Does your elven mind give you a different viewpoint then your fellows?"
Alim considered how best to answer. The first enchanter had taught him long ago, to respect powers greater than himself, and this woman…whatever she was…felt…far more than he ever was.
Respect was what was called for here.
"I don't know what to believe good woman," he said mimicking Morrigan's bow.
"Hmm," the older woman tapped her chin lightly, "A statement that suggests greater wisdom that it implies, be always aware, or…or is it oblivious…I can never remember. So much about you is uncertain and do I believe…why…why it seems that I do."
Alistair smiled, their earlier fears seemed unfounded, "Sooo, this is a dreaded witch of the wilds?"
"Witch of the Wilds," the old woman chuckled, "Morrigan must have told you that, she fancies such tales you see…oh how she dances under the moon."
An image of the beautiful young sorceress dancing naked in the moonlight sprang into the young elf's head, he pushed such thoughts away quickly.
He was trying to remain respectful after all.
"They did not come for your wild tales Mother," Morrigan said coldly.
"They came for their treaties yes," the witch offered, retreating into her hut, the sound of banging came from within, Morrigan continued to glare coldly at Alistair, though she did offer Alim a small smile from time to time.
The old woman emerged, carrying three great scrolls, "And before you begin barking young man," she said glaring at Alistair, "Know that your precious seal wore off long ago, I have protected these treaties for some time."
"You…oh," Alistair was visibly shocked; "You protected them."
"And why not," the old woman shrugged, "take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them that this Blights threat is greater than they realize."
"What do you mean," Alistair asked suspiciously.
The old woman smiled.
"Either the threat is more, or you realize less, or perhaps the threat is nothing, or perhaps you realize nothing!" the old woman cackled, "But do not mind me, you have what you came for."
"Time for you to go then," Morrigan sneered.
The older woman looked insulted at her daughter's lack of manners.
"Don't be ridiculous girl, these are your guests." She said coldly.
Morrigan glanced her way, the woman's eyes turned to ice.
Her daughter visibly flinched.
"I…I…oh…I suppose I will show you the way out of the woods, follow me…if it pleases you."
The five of them turned to leave; Alim stuffed the recovered treaties into his pack.
HE turned one last time to the old woman.
"Thank you," he said with a bow, "for keeping these safe."
"Manners," the older woman chuckled, "Always the last place you look…like stockings…or the one you cannot imagine living without."
Alim paused, what was this now?
The old woman gave him a regretful look.
"The bard will not be what you expect when you meet her," the old woman said sadly, "I pray that she comes to a better end than mine did."
With that the old woman left, disappearing back into her hut, Alim watched her go.
Minstrel, he wondered, what minstrel?
Shaking his head he followed after the others, Morrigan seemed impatient; she wanted them out of her sight now.
IOI
Morrigan sighed she could feel the Templar's eyes on her, his very regard made her bristle.
Of all of these fools, only the elf, showed only real promise.
Yet she had obeyed her Mother's orders, now the wardens would be away.
But soon they would return, and Mother's plan could begin in earnest.
IOI
The journey back to Ostagar had been a quiet one; Morrigan led them right up to the gates of the old fortress.
"Tis as far as I go," she informed Alim.
"Thank you Morrigan," the elf said nodding.
She returned his nod …respectfully.
"Perhaps we shall meet again Master elf," She smiled, "Hopefully when you are in better company."
She shot one final glare at Alistair before disappearing back into the wilds.
Alim smirked at Alistair.
"What," he asked.
"Oh nothing," Alim shrugged, "Just…when a woman looks at you like that, it either means that she wants to kill you, or jump into bed with you. You're very lucky Alistair."
The warden blushed, rushing off to find Duncan, Daveth and Ser Jory in his wake. They left Alim alone, he stared thoughtfully where their mysterious guide had vanished.
A fascinating woman, to be sure, he may have been teasing Alistair, but he held true to what he said.
Alistair was a lucky man to have garnered such attention.
He made for the Kennel Master, he needed to get the man the flower he needed, and then he would catch up with Duncan.
It was time to get this joining thing out of the way.
IOI
Night had finally fallen over the ruins of Ostagar.
Soldiers bedded down for the night, King Cailan retired to his tent, the young ruler's mind was ablaze with excited thoughts. He could almost see the Archdemon dead at his feet, his sword severing the creatures head from its tainted body.
His name would be sung for a hundred years, his memory would eclipse that of even his legendary father. They would build monuments to him, Cailan the Savior, Vanquisher of the Blight.
Duncan moved through the camp, in his hands he carried the chalice used in the joining ritual, he had done this many times now, so many recruits, so many conscripts, some becoming his trusted brothers…
Some not surviving to see another day.
And now it was time to begin again, a new crop of recruits had been prepared. They would leave the old temple here at Ostagar as Grey Wardens…
Or they would not leave at all.
IOI
Alim sat on an old stone pillar as the recruits awaited Duncan's return.
Alistair watched them all closely; a distracted look on the man's face, Alim wondered what troubled the warden so…
It was not like he was the one taking the joining after all.
Jory paced nervously, the man was sweating buckets, Alim did not understand that…
Jory had won a tournament to prove that he deserved this; it seemed extremely cowardly on the man's part to get cold feet now.
"The more I hear about this joining the less I like it," the knight complained.
"Are you blubbering again," Daveth sighed.
"Why all these damn tests," Jory growled, "Have I not earned my place?"
Alim shook his head; the knight's whining was really starting to get on his nerves.
"You know Jory," he offered, "if this grey warden thing does not work out for you, you always have a future as a chicken."
The knight glared at the elf.
"That was unkind elf," he growled, "and uncalled for."
"But realistic," Alim snorted, "You know, no one forced you to be here Jory, you fought for this, you earned this. So stop acting like Duncan hit you over the head and dragged you here."
"Yeah Ser Knight," Daveth agreed, "Try not to wet your pants before the ceremony starts."
Jory glared at his fellow recruits.
"It…it is just that I have a wife with a child on the way…had I known. It…it just doesn't seem fair."
"Life rarely is fair Ser Knight," Alim frowned, "If it was…I would likely be serving as a Kennel Master back home…instead I'm here, so you damn well bet I'm going to make the best of it. I…"
Duncan's arrival interrupted them; he walked past them placing the chalice on the old stone altar.
"At last we come to the joining the senior warden recited, no this…that we Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when the world stood on the verge of annihilation…so it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkpawn blood, and mastered their taint.
Jory's eyes widened in fear, "You…you want us to drink the blood…of those…those creatures."
"AS the first Wardens did before us, as we did before you," Duncan said solemnly, "This…is the source of our power…and our victory."
"Those who survive the joining become immune to the taint," Alistair offered, "We…can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the archdemon."
Alim's ears twitched nervously, "Those who survive?"
"Not all who drink the blood survive," Duncan said solemnly, "and those that do…are forever changed."
Alim shrugged, he supposed that made sense, this was not blood magic, but it came awful close, he wondered if the chantry knew about this? Probably not…
"We say only a few words before the joining, but they have been said since the first," Duncan paused then, turning to Alistair, "If you would," he asked.
Alistair nodded, dropping his head respectfully, Daveth followed suit, and even Alim tipped his hat. Jory looked like a terrified mare, ready to bolt at the first opportunity.
Alistair began.
"Join us brothers and sisters, join us in the shadow where we stand vigilant, join us as we carry the duty that can never be foresworn…and should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten…and that one day…we…shall join you."
Duncan raised the chalice, it was time.
"Daveth step forward."
Alim had to admit the cutpurse had some balls; he stepped forward without complaint, and drank deep from the chalice.
He fell choking to the ground, his eyes as milky and empty as any darkspawn.
He died quickly.
Duncan sighed sadly, "I'm sorry Daveth," he said, he raised the chalice again, "Step forward Jory."
The knight's calm snapped he drew his sword, backing away from Duncan. Alistair stood in front of the entrance; Jory would not be getting out that way.
Alim watched silently, he couldn't believe the knight….what was he thinking.
I have a wife… a child… had I known."
Duncan lowered the chalice; he drew a wicked looking dagger from his belt.
"I warned you back in Highever Jory," Duncan hissed, "there is no turning back."
"No," the man said with a panicked sob, "You ask too much, there is no glory in this."
"This was never about glory Jory," Alim said shaking his head, "this is about sacrifice."
The man glared at the mage, fury darkened his eyes.
"Silence elf…Or I'll…"
Duncan struck; he gutted Jory before he even had a chance to cry out…
The knight fell in a pool of his own blood…
"I am sorry Jory," Duncan whispered.
He turned to Alim, sheathing his dagger and picking up the chalice.
"Step forward Alim."
The elf rose from his seat, if he was going to die, it was going to be on his terms. Thunder rumbled overhead, but he kept a firm grip on it. The elf had nothing to go back to, not in the tower and certainly not in Lothering,
This…was all he had left.
He took the chalice from Duncan; he glanced down into its dark depths.
Alim took a deep breath, it was time.
He drank of the chalice.
The world began to spin and burn, the elf fought to remain standing, but knew that he could not.
From far off he could here Duncan's voice.
"You have been call upon to submit yourself to the taint, for the greater good. From this point forward Alim…you are a Grey Warden.
The world faded away and in its place the great gaping maw of a dargon filled his vision. The creature roared angrily at him, as if its roar alone could scare Alim into death, he did not give it that chance. He would not die today.
He would not. HE WOULD NOT!
The burning an images of the dragon faded. He found himself lying on the stone floor of the old temple.
Alistair and Duncan standing over him.
"It is done," the elder warden said, "We welcome you…brother."
"Are you all right Alim," Alistair asked.
The elf rolled his eyes was that really a serious question.
Alim sat up, trying not to vomit.
"How do you feel," Duncan asked.
Alim snorted another brilliant question.
"Like shit," the elf growled, "next stupid question."
Despite what they had just faced Alistair could not stop himself from laughing.
"I think he is alright Duncan," the young warden said.
Alim shook his head, after what he had seen tonight, he would never forget it.
And he would make sure no one forgot him either.
For better or for worse, Alim was now a Grey Warden,
Maker help them all.