Chapter 15: Trials in the Woods
"Not one word Alistair."
He turned to Morrigan and frowned.
What did the witch mean by that?
"I did not say anything," he snorted.
"You were thinking something, tis as clear as the nose on your face," the witch flashed him an acidic smile, "You have so few thoughts after all."
Alistair sighed, Maker what had he done to deserve this?
They had just managed to find the old sylvan that Aneirin had told them about, the creature did know how to breach the barrier that defended the werewolves' sanctuary, but it required their aid before it would tell them.
A thief had stolen one of its acorns, it wanted it back.
It would be a laughable request coming from anyone but a giant rhyming tree!
The grand oak had been like nothing Alistair had ever seen before, a spirit possessed tree that not only spoke, but rhymed when it spoke.
Alistair glared at Morrigan, okay maybe he had been thinking about making a poet-tree joke, but that was no reason to snarl at him about it.
Alim chuckled as he led from the front, Bellethiel walked at his side; the two elves seemed to become more and more inseparable as the days had past.
A devilish smile split Alim's features as he paused so that he could whisper to Alistair.
"I think your girlfriend's pissed at you."
Alistair paled his…his…what?!
Shock quickly faded, and color exploded in the young knight's cheeks.
His girlfriend?
Alim smirked and Bellethiel giggled, Alistair glared at them both.
"Maker's Breath Lim why do you have to say things like THAT?"
"Because I enjoy watching your face turn red Alistair," the elven mage cackled, "It never ceases to put a smile on my face."
Alistair grumbled to himself, stupid witch, stupid elf mage.
"You should be nicer to Alistair," Belle said playfully, "He is your clan after all. He may be human but that is not his fault."
Alim snorted with amusement, and the girl giggled again.
The former Templar was not sure how to respond.
"Thanks…I think," Alistair gave the huntress a chagrined smile; he wasn't sure if that was a compliment or if he was being insulted.
Perhaps a bit of both.
IOI
Sten followed silently behind them, his presence was unnerving to Alistair to say the least, useful yes, but also very disturbing.
The man was so quiet for one so big, and when he spoke it was important.
He chose to speak now.
"The sister is gone."
Alim paused, to be honest he had not been paying attention, he had been lost in teasing Alistair, and watching Belle, the way she moved, so graceful. He had not even realized that…
"What?" Alistair spun around, trying to find their missing companion. Leliana could not have just wandered off.
He tried calling out her name, but Belle stopped him. Her violet eyes were cool and stern.
"There are many dangerous things in these woods," the hunter snapped, "You should not give away our location like that Alistair."
He paused, and blushed, he felt stupid, of course she was right.
He shouldn't have been surprised, he was always saying or doing something that made him feel stupid.
You think he would be used to it by now.
IOI
Alim sighed, stupid sister, it would serve her right If they left her to her fate.
Lucky for her, he wasn't like that.
"If she is gone she is gone," Morrigan said sweetly, "I see no reason that we should hunt for the little twit."
Alim shot her a glare, but it faded quickly, normally he would have agreed with her, but allies of the Grey Wardens were in short supply right now. He could not afford to lose one.
He turned to Bandit, the dog perked up at the mention of his name.
"Can you find the sister boy," he said warmly, scratching the dog's head, "we shouldn't leave her wandering around out here alone."
Bandit raised his head sniffing the air. The Mabari had become infinitely familiar with the scents of those it traveled with now.
Finding the red haired human would not be that hard.
Bandit barked and began to bounce around excitedly.
He had caught her scent.
Alim smiled at the hound, a Mabari never let you down.
"Lead the way boy. We will follow."
IOI
The smell of wood smoke had drawn Leliana away from the others.
She had only been trying to help, when the Grand Oak had mentioned that thief it sought was still camped in the forest, she immediately began to search for any signs of people: broken branches, tracks, anything.
She had smelled the fire while Alim and Alistair had been busy bickering. She followed after it; with luck she could retrieve the acorn and be back before her companions missed her.
It was folly to go off on her own perhaps, but she was still trying to prove herself to the others. She knew what the others thought of her. The foolish sister who believed that she had been given a vision by the Maker, it was not much different than her fellows in the cloister. They too though that she was trying to make her vision seem more important than it was.
She needed to prove herself to the others and to Alim and Alistair especially.
The smell drew her to a fire built in a small glade near a stream. She saw no one else around, but it was clear that someone had been here recently, the bedroll was laid out, the tent set up, and the small fire crackled merrily.
Was this the thief's camp? Leliana was not sure, but she felt certain that whoever had set this up would not leave it unattended for long.
She would have a seat and wait, if this wasn't the thief's camp, then they might at least know where she could start looking.
She had no sooner sat down then she found her eyes being drawn ever more into the fire. The crackling put her at ease; the glowing warmth messaged her skin. This place, built so close to the tiny stream was so idyllic so…pretty.
Her eyes felt heavy, she yawned and stretched. Maker…she felt like she had been walking for days without rest. The bed roll near the fire was so soft…so inviting. She…she would just lie down and wait for the camper to return.
Something in the back of her mind warned her that she was in trouble, that she should get up and leave, but the fire ensnared her eyes and her soul.
She was so weary…so very, very weary.
She lay down on the soft padding and began to nod off.
"GET AWAY FROM HER! I MEAN IT!"
The angry voice shocked her out of her lethargy. The crackled of electricity made the hairs on her neck stand on end. A high pitch squeal rang out above her.
She opened her eyes…and stared into the face of a horror.
The creature was misshapen, a horrible gliding thing with no lips and one baleful eye. It whirled away from the near unconscious bard and hissed evilly.
Bandit lunged, sinking his fangs deep into the creature's arm. It wailed and tried to claw at large dog that had brought it so much pain.
Alistair smited the creature, his Templar abilities draining it of the magic it needed to defend itself.
Alim and Belle struck as one.
His magic turned her arrows into mini lightning bolts; they struck the creature causing power to ripple through the shades shadowy form.
Bandit returned at his master's call just before the elven mage released a jet of orange flame loose on the creature.
The shade spun maddened by the attack.
It was the opening that Bellethiel had waited for; she leapt into the air drawing a beautifully crafted Dalish sword. So distracted was the shade that it didn't even try to defend itself.
The huntress struck at where the creature's neck would be, severing its head.
The world spun crazily, Leliana shut her eyes, trying to steady herself and not get sick.
She opened them to find the camp transformed.
The fire was just ashes, long dead, the tent was just a two posts with a dirty rag ran across them. The bed roll was a damp moldy piece of cloth on the dead ground, and all around her lay the bones of the shade's victims. Some were old, crumbling away to dust; others were still clothed in the remains of armor or leathers.
Bellethiel shuddered recognize the bones of several Dalish scattered here, not from her clan of course, but still quite horrifying.
Alim advanced on Leliana, his dark eyes angry and cold.
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!" he spat angrily.
"I'm sorry," she said meekly, still trying to clear her head, "I…I was only trying to help."
"Help? You could have been killed. You could have been…"
Leliana embraced the elf, stopping him mid-rant; it took him a moment to realize that she was sobbing.
"You rescued me! Thank you," she whispered into his shoulder, "Praise the Maker for you."
Alim stiffened, he…he did not know how to respond. He had been yelling at her, why was she now hugging him? He…he had no choice…he found himself returning the hug, trying to sooth her.
"It…um…it is…uh… all right. You…you're…um…you're safe now."
Leliana pulled away wiping the tears on her sleeve.
"Bless you Alim," she said smiling, "and thank you for saving my life."
The elf shifted nervously, his ears were as red as roses, he…he was not used to being thanked by anyone, much less a beautiful woman.
Maker what was he supposed to say now!
"Yes well…um…just don't make a habit of it!"
He tried to sound angry, but her gratefulness had touched his heart. He had not expected that, not from her, not from any chantry sister. He left before Alistair or Morrigan could start to tease him mercilessly.
Bellethiel walked up to Leliana a wry smile on her face.
The sister immediately felt self-conscious, she knew how Belle felt about Alim and did not want to start a problem.
"I'll have to remember that trick," the Dalish huntress grinned, "If I want to calm him down, all I have to do is hug him. Mas serranas sister."
Leliana shrugged, the Dalish had not responded as she expected.
That was a good thing.
IOI
"Oh dear, oh dear, not a werewolf, and not a spirit even, oh what are these woods coming to?"
Alim glared at the rather strange man. He could only assume they had found the thief that the grand oak was looking for. The man was dressed in dirty brown robes. Dirt, cobwebs and twigs decorated his beard. Eyes both wild and terrified sought out every sound and movement.
Alim might have felt sorry for the poor man if he did not have something that they needed.
"Are you the one with the grand oak's acorn?" he asked.
"Questions, questions, questions," the man sang, "They said it was questions that made me mad, will it do the same to you? Ask a question and you will get a question, but give an answer and you will receive the same."
The mad man grinned.
"Oh how I do love to trade."
Alim rolled his eyes, so much for doing this the easy way; the man was clearly as crazy as a privy rat.
They just needed to be careful, that was ll.
"What are you blathering about?" Alim asked.
"I don't know?" the man replied, "What are you blathering about?"
"Do you have the acorn or not?"
"What acorn?"
"Are you mocking me?" Alim asked starting to get angry.
"I don't know?" the man shrugged, "are you mocking me?"
Alim rolled his eyes, Maker give me strength!
"This is pointless!" he sighed.
"No!" the mad man cried angrily, "that is not a question! And if it is an answer it is one to a question I have not asked." The man crossed his arms stubbornly. "Have you no sense for the rules."
Part of Alim wanted to shove a lightning bolt down the man's gob, but Morrigan stopped him.
"Be careful warden," she cautioned, "this man may be mad, but he has magic…powerful magic. I can feel it."
Alim shuddered, he could sense it to, if the man wasn't crazed, they might all be in trouble.
"No fair bringing mages to a guessing game!" the man snarled, pulling a twig out of his beard. "Will you play by the rules or not?"
Alim paused…thinking. It was clear that he was not going to get a straight answer here. He would have to be more careful.
"Very well then," he sighed, trying to reign in his already frayed temper, "Would you like to ask me a question?"
"Oh yesss," the man hissed, "Yes I think I might, first question: What is your name?"
Alim's eyes narrowed, that was it? He swore, if this man asked him what his favorite color was next he was going to be pissed.
He realized that he would have to play the man's games if he wanted to move forward.
"My name is Alim," he replied.
"So you claim," the man scoffed, "Are you just some stranger with his head filled with fluff and nothing? I don't think so. They sent you didn't they? And now you are trying to fool me, but I am on to you…mark my words."
Alim did not know who they were, the Templars probably, that seemed to be the best guess. In the end it did not matter.
The elven warden shrugged whatever crazy.
"It is your turn now," the man purred, "ask…ask away, I dare you!"
Alim considered what to ask, the logical thing was to ask again if the man had the acorn, but this was far from a logical situation. One wrong question and the man might attack, that would not help them, what if he had stashed the acorn somewhere?
Leliana tapped him gently on the shoulder, the elf turned, he was about to ask why she had done that?
She whispered into his ear. She had an idea that might just help them.
Alim's ears twitched as she explained what she had in mind. A wolf-like grin came to his mouth. He chuckled thoughtfully.
Seriously, this woman was too sneaky for her own good."
"Well," the mad man said impatiently, "I am waiting!"
"My apologies," Alim said with a slight bow, "My question is this: Who are you?"
The man's eyes widened in panic.
"Who am I? Why do you want to know? Did they send you? They did, didn't they?!"
Alim grinned.
"That is a lot of questions ser,' he said innocently, "I hope you have answers."
The mad man's mouth opened and closed, Alim could almost hear the gears grinding in his head.
The man looked like he was ready to pop a blood vessel.
"I…But you…you can't…ARGHH!" the man snarled in frustration, "Damnation! Caught by my own rules!"
Bellethiel and Morrigan did their best not to laugh, Sten seemed bored, but who could tell what the stoic Qunari truly thought. Alistair nodded, he could not help it, he was impressed. Bandit barked happily, his head slipped under the sister's hand to be petted.
Leliana was very smug; she gave Alim a satisfied smile.
The elven mage could not help but return it.
He hated to admitted it, but the sister had a good head on her shoulders.
He gave the mad man his warmest smile, no point in making anymore trouble.
"Let's talk about acorns ser," he said warmly.
IOI
An hour later they found themselves standing before the barrier leading to the werewolves' lair. In one hand, Alim held a branch taken from the grand oak. The old sylvan had been very grateful to get his seed back; he had promised them that this piece of himself would allow them past the barrier.
Alim found himself hoping that the oak was right, they needed the Dalish to aid them or this whole trip would be for nothing.
Alim plunged the branch into the fog; it retreated before the small shaft of wood. Alim walked forward followed closely by his companions. The barrier retreated like water before the small branch. Soon they found themselves on the other side. A massive complex of ruins stood before them. Alim could smell the scent of wet dog in the air. It was likely to this place that the creatures had retreated.
He led them forward, towards the main entrance.
The werewolves were waiting for them, blocking their path.
Alim's eyes narrowed; behind him he could hear the sounds of his companions readying their weapons.
The fun was about to begin.