Chapter 8: The Village of Lothering
"Ah, and here we are," Morrigan purred softly.
Alim glanced up; they were finally just outside the entrance to Lothering. The village was much as he remembered from his childhood. The great windmill, the various shops and smiths, of course it had never looked so crowded before, humans and elves were everywhere. He could hear the sound of weeping and cries of despair.
"Just a guess, but I think the people of Lothering are aware of the approaching darkspawn Horde," Alistair remarked.
Alim could not help but agree; you could almost smell the sense of fear and despair in this place.
The sooner we're out of here the better, the elf thought.
But it was clear that they would not be simply walking in. The way was blocked, he counted at least a dozen armed men, they had pulled a wagon across the road, it was clear that they intended to stop anyone fleeing north. One of them broke off from the rest and approached Alim and his companions.
"Wake up gentlemen, more travelers to attend to, and led by an elf of all things!" the man exclaimed.
This man was obviously the leader, a dark skinned man with short black hair, smirked at him. It was clear that the man thought that he was some kind of easy mark.
If these fools decided to push this they would find out exactly how wrong they were.
"Umm, these don't look like them others," a stocky man behind the later said, his eyes clearly focused on Alistair and Morrigan. "The others before…maybe we should just let them pass?"
"Nonsense," the leader replied, "Greetings travelers, welcome to Lothering!"
"Highwaymen," he heard Alistair whisper behind him, preying on those fleeing the darkspawn I suppose."
Alim shook his head, No shit Captain Obvious, he thought.
Morrigan sneered at the men's dirty leathers, and grubby faces. She wrinkled her nose in distaste.
"They are fools to get in our way," the witch purred, "I say we teach them a lesson."
"Now is that anyway to talk good woman," the leader clucked, "A simple ten silvers and your free to go on your way."
Alim glanced first at the leader, then at the stocky man who had spoken. These men were common thieves, and he had other things to deal with that correcting such men. Still…The servants fleeing the Bann's estate would likely be passing through here soon. He had no desire to see them suffer.
It seemed like he would have to get involved after all.
"You should listen to your friend," he warned, "We're not refugees."
"What did I tell you," the stocky man added, "No wagons…and that one is armed," he said gesturing towards Alistair.
The leader was not impressed.
"The toll applies to everyone Heinrich," the leader told his subordinate, "That is why it is a toll, and not simply a refugee tax."
"Ohhh, yeah…right," the stocky man nodded dumbly, "Even if you lot are no refugees…you still got to pay."
Alim hated to admit it, but Morrigan's suggestion was looking better and better all the time. He glanced skyward, the rain from earlier had stopped, but there was still plenty of clouds overhead.
Perfect for his use if needs be.
"We aren't paying you," Alim said crossing his arms.
"Well…can't say I'm glad to hear that," the leader shrugged.
"So we get to ransack your corpses then," Heinrich repeated, he pointed to the left side of the thieves' cart. Alim could make out several bodies lying there.
"Them's the rules," Heinrich finished.
Behind Alim Alistair took a step back, his shield slid down from his back unto his arm, his other rested on the hilt of his sword, Morrigan leaned lightly on her staff, but it was clear that she could raise it at a moment's notice.
Between the three of them they could likely wipe these stupid bastards out, but at the same time, Alim did not wanted to go advertising to Loghain that there were Grey Wardens who survived Ostagar, secrecy would serve them better than violence at this point.
He tried one final time to stop this before it went any further.
"You really don't want to fight two mages and their escort do you?" he asked them.
"A mage!" Heinrich gasped, he turned to his leader with fear in his eyes, "I don't want to be a toad!"
"No one is turning you into a toad you sniveling bastard," the leader grumbled, he turned to Alim a cruel smirk on his face, "Listen little fella, you don't want to go causing all this trouble do you?" I can…"
Little fella?
Alim's elven ears laid flat like an angry cat, fury flashed in his dark eyes.
LITTLE FELLA!
That did it! He had had enough of these fools!
He let his anger touch the clouds above, they answered his call.
Two lightning bolts crashed down on the bandits.
They both struck the stocky thief Heinrich…he did not even have time to scream.
His burnt corpse fell to the ground.
"Andraste's blood!" Alistair gasped.
"What!" the leader shouted, his panicked eyes fell on Alim.
The elf smirked at him…little fella indeed.
"Oops," Alim chuckled.
Morrigan giggled evilly.
"You…you knife eared runt!" the leader drew his weapons, his fellows followed suit, "I will slaughter you for…"
The man never got the chance to finish, a large snarling wall of brown fur slammed into him, his sword flew from his hands.
Alim and his companions attacked. Alim threw fire, while Morrigan threw ice; Alistair waded into them swinging his sword and shield.
Of the remaining thieves only four scampered away, leaving their goods behind.
Alim glanced down at the dead leader, his throat had been torn out, sitting next to him was the one who did it, wagging his stubby tail happily.
It was a mabari war hound.
Alim smiled, he kneeled down and patted the huge dog. It sighed happily.
"I…I think this is the dog from the Kennels at Ostagar," Alim said quietly, "wonder how he got here?"
Alistair looked affectionately down on the dog, as a boy he had spent many a night in the kennels at Redcliffe.
"I…I think he was out looking for you Lim," Alistair answered, "He…he has chosen you, Mabari are like that…it is called imprinting."
The dog barked a loud affirmative.
"My Father was a Kennel Master Alistair," Alim retorted, "I do know what imprinting is."
He had meant those words to be angry, but they had not come out that way. As a boy he had watched his father working with the young Mabari. The Bann had them sleeping with pieces of cloth that he owned so that they would all imprint onto him. As a boy Alim had always wished to have a Mabari of his own.
It seemed that the Maker had finally granted his wish.
"Does this mean we have to have this mangy beast following us around now?" Morrigan snorted, "How wonderful!"
"He is not mangy," Alistair said grinning at the dog.
"No he isn't," Alim agreed, a silly grin split the elf's face, his first since learning of his mother's death, "Still…he needs a name," the elf thought, he needed something special, "You certainly dealt with that bandit nice and quick didn't you boy. Guess you were a far better bandit than him. Hmm," his elven ears twitched, "Bandit…we will call you Bandit, what do you think boy? Do you like Bandit?"
Bandit barked in the affirmative.
Morrigan shook her head, seeing Alim bonding with some flea-ridden beast was not her idea of fun. She moved over to the thieves abandoned crates. Weapons, food, even some armor was there. Plus… a bag with at least a hundred silvers inside.
The witch smiled, she did not think anyone would mind if they helped themselves.
IOI
Both wardens joined her, Alim found a half-eaten turkey leg; he tossed it to Bandit, who devoured the meat from it in two gulps. Poor dog had to be starved from running for days out in the wilds.
Morrigan helped herself to any jewelry she found; the witch had a taste for shiny baubles.
Soon they had coin, food, poultices, and even a few items for trade.
Not bad for start to their little quest, Alim grinned, hopefully there would still be a few traders in Lothering, they would need more supplies before their next stop.
Last night they had discussed how best to proceed, Alistair had felt that Flemeth's suggestion of fulfilling the treaties was the best idea. They needed to gather an army to face the Archdemon. He also suggested going to Arl Eamon of Redcliffe, Alistair said that he knew the man and that he would help them.
Alim was not too sure; right now they had nothing to offer the nobles but three pieces of vellum. Alim preferred to actually have support from at least one of the groups that they had treaties for, before they went to remind the nobles of Ferelden of their obligations.
He wanted to have something more to fall back on then their asses.
Surprisingly Alistair let him have his way. The elf was not sure why but Alistair seemed to want him to take the lead. Not that Alim minded; it was just that Alistair was technically his superior.
Still if Alistair wanted to place the fate of all of Ferelden in Alim's hands…so be it.
It was only just the fate of the world after all…no pressure.
He accepted…after a brief panic attack of course.
Now they were here in Lothering, it was a lot smaller than Alim remembered; of course he had not seen the place since he was eight years old.
He suggested trying the tavern first. He remembered his Father saying many times that you could find anything you wanted if you waited long enough inside Dane's Refuge.
So he took the lead, Morrigan volunteered to find the supplies they needed, personally Alim thought the witch just wanted to get away from Alistair for a while.
The elf smirked…there were definitely sparks between the witch and his fellow warden. Whether that turned to hate or passion remained to be seen. He had come to enjoy getting a rise out of his fellow warden by hinting at such things. Alistair swore that the elf was crazy! He would not touch Morrigan with a twenty foot lance!
Alim laughed.
They certainly acted like they hated one another, whether that was true remained to be seen.
Meanwhile, Alim needed more information; they had been out of touch for almost two weeks during their time in the wilds.
They needed to know more.
Alim sighed as he glanced around the tiny village, he still could not believe that he was back here. He saw no familiar faces, but that was no big surprise. As a boy he had rarely come into the village proper, and the one time that he had, had been the time that he had tried to defend the Miller's daughter.
That had not gone very well for him, and he had spent the last twelve years in the circle as a result.
Not the best memory to be sure.
Still…it was nice to see the old place again. Lothering had not been the worse place to grow up, and he would have preferred to grow up here rather than the years he spent locked up in the tower.
Not that the villagers would have let him stay after what had happened.
The elf shook his head, now was not really the time for nostalgia, they had work to do after all. Then he would have to leave here again, likely for the last time.
He could not help feeling a little sad about that.
"Home sweet home," he murmured under his breath.
IOI
Dane's refuge was like most Taverns in Thedas, it was dirty crowded and loud, made even more so by the approach of the darkspawn horde. People were packed in the small building, the scent of sweat, cheap ale, and fear was thick in the air. The Minstrels played to keep the people as calm as possible, but it was clear that everyone here saw the writing on the wall.
The darkspawn were coming, and it was only a matter of time.
Some chose to drown their fears of the death the creatures would bring in the ale that was served here. Others gambled and looked for other vices to satisfy their appetites as Lothering entered its final days.
The elf felt sorry for them, but there was nothing he could do.
He and his allies could do nothing to protect these people from the darkspawn, at least not yet.
Alim, Alistair, and Bandit entered Dane's Refuge; the tavern was packed with refugees, locals, miners, and soldiers.
Soldiers that regarded the two wardens with curiosity, they rose from their chairs moving to surround them.
"Shit," Alim said under his breath.
"Look here men," the soldiers' captain sneered, "I think we have just been blessed."
"Loghain's men," Alistair spat, the wyvern of Gwaren stood out plainly on the soldiers' shields, "this can't be good."
Alim rolled his eyes, Captain Obvious strikes again!
"Weren't we asking about an elf of this very description?" another soldier asked, "And everyone said they had not seen one?"
"It seems that we have been lied to," the captain said glaring at Alim.
The elf shook his head, this was not the best place for a fight, no room to maneuver, and Alim did not want to set the Refuge on fire with his powers.
This fight would not be pretty.
A voice from behind interrupted them.
"Gentlemen…surely, there is no need for trouble, these are no doubt simply more travelers seeking refuge."
Alim turned, his eyes narrowed angrily.
It was a chantry sister!
She was beautiful in her own way he supposed, ice blue eyes, pale skin, and short copper red hair. Her accent hinted that she had spent a great deal of time in Orlais, which was not surprising, many young initiates were sent from Val Royeaux out into the land of dogs and barbarians…at least that was how the Orlesians saw it.
Alim glared, he did not need this…this …chantry cow's help.
"Go away," he snapped, "We don't need your protection."
The sister was undaunted.
"You may not need by protection," she shrugged, "but these blind fools will follow their master's commands even into death."
The soldiers glanced at the sister; they had not expected her to speak of them with such…disrespect.
"I am not the blind one," their leader growled, "I fought at Ostagar, where the Teyrn saved us from the Grey Wardens' treachery!"
Alim's eyes widened, what in the name of Andraste's tits was the man talking about?
"Enough talk," the captain ordered, "Take these Grey Wardens into custody! Kill the sister, and anyone else who gets in your way!"
Alistair started to move, to aid in the sister's defense…
He need not have worried.
One of the soldiers grabbed her arm that had been a mistake. The sister seized his hand spinning around behind him; she twisted the soldier's arm…it snapped in two places.
She swung out her leg sweeping the captain off his feet; he fell to the ground with a hard crash. She yanked his dagger from his belt and brought it to the man's throat.
"Don't move," the sister snarled her blue eyes two icy pools.
Alim stood in shock, what was that!
Alistair barreled over two of the Loghain archers, one dropped his weapon, but the other went for his dagger…
Alistair decapitated the man.
Alim gestured, two more of the soldiers' weapons turned red hot, melting over their gauntleted hands. They dropped what was left of their swords, cursing madly, and trying to put out the flames.
"We surrender!" the captain shouted, the sister tightened the blade against his throat, "I said we surrender."
"Good," she purred, "the battle is over and we can all stop fighting now."
Alim advanced on the Captain, his eyes glowed with magic and fury, and "they can't be allowed to report back to Loghain."
"No," the Captain cowered, "please wait!"
The sister stepped in front of the elf, she continued to hold her blade on the captain, but it was clear that she would not let Alim pass.
"Get out of the way!" he snapped.
"They have surrendered; they were no match for you. Please…let them be."
Alim almost threw fire at the woman, but held his temper, she…she had not been required to help them, but she had.
That bought her at least some consideration.
"They meant to murder us," Alim growled.
"But they failed," she reminded him, she blocked his path, her arms crossed stubbornly over her ample chest, "please… I do not wish death on anyone."
Alim was furious at her for denying him his kill, but she had fought well…
"Then they had better leave before I change my mind." the elf said gruffly.
The injured soldiers slunk out of the tavern, their leader still sputtering curses at the elf and the woman.
The people in the Tavern relaxed again, music started playing, and the card games resumed.
The violence was finished at least for now.
The sister shook her head, before returning her attention to the wardens.
"I apologize for interfering," she offered, but I could not just sit by and not help."
Alim was about to tell her that her apology was not accepted when Alistair chimed in beating him to the punch.
"You're quite welcome," the human warden replied.
Alim sighed. It seemed that Alistair was grateful for the woman's help…how lovely.
""I'm glad that you found it in your heart to show those men mercy," she said with a slight bow, "The Maker will surely smile on you for it.
"I did not do it to please your god," Alim spat.
The woman fell silent not sure how to respond to the elf's venom.
"You're very welcome," Alistair chimed in, "if you do not mind me asking where did a sister learn to fight like that?"
"I was not born in the chantry you know," she responded with a warm smile, "Some of us led more…interesting lives before we joined the chantry."
Alim continued to glare at the Orlesian sister. He did not understand why Alistair was wasting time talking with her, they needed to move, in case those soldiers had reinforcements nearby.
"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Leliana," she said with a curtsey, "one of the lay sisters of the Chantry here in Lothering…or I was."
"Was?" Alistair asked.
"I joined the chantry for a life of religious contemplation, but I am no priest, not even an initiate." the woman frowned.
Alim shook his head, wonderful…she wasn't even a full priest, and she still stood up for those louts.
Crazy woman!
"I'm Alistair," the former Templar offered, "this is my friend and fellow Warden Alim."
"That is right, that man said you were a warden didn't he?" her eyes fell on Alim, he glared at her, "I'm a bit surprised you are an elf, but elves must wish to see the blight defeated to…no?"
Alim could not tell if that was a slam on him being an elf or a warden, either would have infuriated him, both had made it ten times worse.
He just wanted to get out of here, away from this cheery chantry cow.
"You will be battling the darkspawn yes, that is what Grey Wardens do?" she continued
"Yes sister," Alim said with a frosty voice, "why would you care?"
"Because I am coming along," she informed him.
The elf sputtered, not sure how best to respond.
Alistair chuckled; he had never seen Alim's face and ears turn so red before. He would not let the elf hurt the sister, but he could not deny that he was enjoying the show.
"And why would you want to do that?" Alim asked coldly.
"Because the Maker told me to." She replied matter of factly.
Alistair gave her a quizzical look. Alim just glared at the woman.
The Maker told her to?
Alim shook his head, nice…she was no only one of the Chantry's religious zealots, but she was crazy to boot.
The elf shook his head, this day just kept getting better and better…
NOT!