[Most] dialogue taken from the Dragon Age: Witch Hunt DLC. Elvhen taken from the Dragon Age wiki and from fan conlanger fenxshiral on tumblr. This was going to be the last chapter in the Witch Hunt arc, and last chapter in Thedas, but it got too long so I split it into two. I am taking liberties with some of the canon for Thedas dwarva.
Ena'sal'in'abelas n. Ancient arcane warriors that would protect the tombs where ancient elves slumbered in Uth'then'era. Dalish will often incorrectly shorten this to "Enasalin." Not to be confused with Ena'sal'in'amelan n. Arcane Warrior, Knight Enchanter, lit. One Who protects victory. Victory keeper. Sometimes shortened to Ena'sa'melan, or incorrectly shortened to Ena'sal'in.
28 August, 9:32 Dragon: Cadash Thaig, the Deep Roads
"Nug shit!" Natia swore as a Blight-bronto roared at them. It shook its head, mad with disease, wildly and charged at them. As badly off as it was, they killed it easily, though the dwarf got drenched in black blood when Ariane decapitated the beast. "Fuckin' shit, I've got to burn this, and it was a decent set of leathers, too. Stay away from me until I'm clean, you don't want to catch this."
"Understood." Ariane held out her sword to Finn so he could burn the black blood off of it. "We shouldn't separate, though. Go in one of those buildings. You still have your Warden leathers, yes?"
"I do." The dwarf looked the crumbling buildings over. "Most of these ruins are structurally unsound. I'm no Smith, but I think this one's all right enough that it won't collapse on my head."
Finn examined the carvings nearby after he scorched the sword clean. "Interesting. This carving over here is an ancient dwarven dialect. If you find more writing like this, I could probably translate it."
"I'll keep an eye out," said Ariane.
She walked inside the small building, half-hopping to get her boots off on the way there. The necklace Duran had given her was a total loss, unfortunately, as were the nondescript leathers that she had been wearing in lieu of her Warden armour. The boots could potentially be saved, if she scrubbed them well enough. Natia had been wearing these boots since taking them off of Jarvia when they'd taken down most of the Carta in Orzammar. They had two enchantments on them to boost the wearer's speed and stamina, and the soft leather had been worked in such a way to ensure the wearer's comfort while still allowing two hidden sheaths for boot-knives.
We're lucky we didn't get any Tainted blood on us before now. She shucked her leathers, washed herself as best she could with the little water remaining in her waterskin, and pulled on the azure-and-argent Warden armour. It wasn't nearly as comfortable, but it hadn't been made specifically for her like the other set had been. Her axes wouldn't take long to clean when they made camp for the night.
"Bronto meat is something I've tried before! It's quite good, once you've gotten over the stringiness." Finn poked experimentally at the bronto's corpse with the butt of his staff as Nat emerged from the ancient building. "A stew would be nice...We could put the hardest hardtack in it. Then we wouldn't break any teeth."
"I agree, but we can't have any of this one," said Natia, coming back out just in time to hear his words. "It's Tainted. Hardly anything down here isn't; the deep stalkers are rarities. If there's any tezpadam left, we can make a stew out of that, I suppose."
"That's too bad. I've never had any bronto," said Ariane. "Is it much like venison? Or is it more like bear?"
"I wouldn't know, never had either." The dwarf chuckled. "Burn that, Finn, the less Taint the better."
"It's sort of like ham, really," said the mage as he cast a fire rune on the ground with the bronto in the center. A tossed rock bounced off the bronto to land near the edge of the rune and it exploded, burning the Tainted corpse to a crisp; by the time the flames died down, there was nothing left but ash.
"I think you might have attracted some attention with that," murmured Ariane, drawing her sword. Natia pulled her axes free and tensed to leap.
"Darkspawn—not a lot, though. I think that's probably the last of them in this area." She gestured with one axe. "Finn, you go over there, climb up on the building if you can. They don't ever look up. There's no ogres, so you'll be safe unless they have an archer. Ariane, they know I'm here, so leave your wolf with me. I'll try to keep their attention on me and Banal'ras if you'll circle around behind them. Finn, when they're all attacking me, hit them with a loud spell; that'll be your signal to attack, Ariane."
They played their parts well; as Ariane disappeared around the back of one of the crumbling buildings and Finn scrambled on top of the sturdy one, Natia slammed her axes together and yelled a challenge. Three hurlock warriors, a genlock archer, and a dagger-wielding rogue ran towards her. She ducked the first's sword as an arrow scored a line along her shoulder, whirling in a tempest of blades to slice open its gut as Ariane's Banal'ras leapt on the rogue and tore its throat out. The second hurlock caught her on the same shoulder as the arrow with a shield bash, sending her off-balance; Finn's explosive blast made them back off her temporarily, and the archer switched targets to try and take him out. Ariane appeared like a vengeful elven warrior from Arlathan, killing the archer and the third hurlock before they knew she was there. Finn froze the remaining hurlock and Natia recovered enough to shatter it with a well-placed blow.
"Well done, all." Natia sat down with a thump. "I think I've got to rest a bit." Her head was still spinning from the shield bash she'd taken. The entire skirmish hadn't taken more than a few seconds, and her sense of darkspawn had receded to a safe distance: probably further in the Deep Roads, where they didn't plan to go. There was a Warden just a bit farther, that way, possibly two of them, gone to their Calling.
"That looks pretty painful," said Ariane, coming up to sit next to her. She pulled the torn armor away from the dwarf's shoulder, revealing a nasty bruise and a most likely poisoned arrow wound. "Hey, Finn, do you have any antivenin?"
"Yes, one moment," said Finn, tossing back a small blue vial. "Ah, that's better. Here you go, Ariane. Poisoned arrows? That must be terribly painful. I'm glad I didn't get shot myself. The darkspawn don't seem to be able to aim very well, I didn't they were smart enough to use ranged weapons at all."
"This will hurt," Ariane warned the dwarf, giving their human a Look to make him shut up.
"Just get on with it, I've had worse. I had to sleep for more than a day after battling the Archdemon." Natia attempted to shrug but grimaced. The head-spinning had gotten worse, and now she felt dizzy and light-headed. The poison at work. Doesn't feel like deathroot...spider venom, perhaps?
Ariane made Natia drink the wide-spectrum antivenin while she cleaned out the shoulder wound and spread a health poultice on it. As she'd promised, it burned like fire, making the dwarf hiss in a sharp breath, but then it faded, and new skin grew in pink and shiny. She would always have a scar, a raised white line, but then she had many scars.
"We should camp for the night," she said, or tried to. The words came out a little slurred, as if she'd been drinking lichen ale. "I don't trust myself in another fight. Stew sounds good, Finn, thanks for volunteering to cook..." She made an effort to pull out her axes and a relatively clean bit of cloth to wipe them down.
"Let me do that," Finn said, pulling them from her unprotesting grip, scouring the blades with the fire he set up to cook with. The mage muttered disparagingly to himself about stubborn dwarves as he pulled out their fold-up cooking pot. It wasn't long before they had some deepstalker jerky and hardtack bubbling in the pot with water gained magically. He had modified an ice conjuration to just pull water from the air, not freeze it. It wouldn't have any applications in battle, but not all magic did.
"Thanks, Finn," she said, taking her axes back when he'd finished with them. She slid them back into place before leaning back and closing her eyes.
"What we have now won't be enough," Finn said, pulling out one of the Lights of Arlathan to examine it closely. "I think one more should do it."
"We're so close to the next one, I can feel it," said Ariane, prowling the perimeter of their camp as the stew cooked. Her wolf circled behind her, sniffing intently at a spot on the ground that had no immediate significance to any of them. After a moment, he raised his leg and marked it as his territory, like Elyssa's mabari had often done. "I know it. We're so close."
"You say you can feel it? How does it feel? Is it a tingle? Are your toes numb? What about your elbows?" the human asked with interest, eyes intent on hers and fingers shaping magical signs.
Nat, already half-asleep, sighed and opened her eyes. She felt old, though at 32 she was physically younger than their equivalent ages. "If you think we're that close, Ariane, I suppose we can find it and then come back to eat our stew afterwards."
The Dalish warrior had the decency to look a bit sheepish, but no less eager. "Let's go."
The dwarven rogue heaved herself to her feet and braced herself against the rock as she fumbled for a stamina restorative. She didn't need a large one, just a sip, just enough to clear her mind and keep her upright. They wouldn't really need her for battling one of those ancient elven guardians...what had Ariane called them? Ena'sal'in'abelas?[1] She wondered where the elf had encountered one before. Did the Dalish regularly disturb ancient elven places?
Beyond the next rise the darkspawn had been lingering around a crude campsite. Ariane touched the ashes where the fire had been briefly. "Gen'iseth,"[2] she said. "It's still warm."
Another magical vortex swirled just beyond. She stepped inside. The old magic swirled around her, settling into her like a second skin, and she walked unerringly to a blank wall. "Here we are!"
"This is like playing hide-and-seek, isn't it?" Finn picked up the lantern that appeared and nestled it in his pack. A pair of the ena'sal'in'abelas appeared, yelling ghostly battle cries in ancient Elvish.
"Here it comes!" Natia braced herself. The familiar rush of battle coursed through her veins, speeding her heart and clearing the sleep from her limbs. This time one of the guardians fought with magic as well as sword, difficult to defeat even if she had been at her best. Finn's magic, powerful and destructive as it was, was not terribly helpful in such close quarters; the restorative magic that Wynne had studied would have been a great help.
Eventually, however, they destroyed the apparitions, and Natia had just enough time to gulp down a bowl of stew and fall in her bedroll before exhaustion took her.
"I always thought dwarves must be dull without magic, but this place is amazing," she heard Finn say in the distance. "We have four Lights of Arlathan now—I hope that's enough. We still need the shard of the Eluvian, though."
"We'll head to the elven ruins next," Ariane murmured, from even farther away. "It's north of Gwaren, but still further west." Natia heard her start singing, and faded into nothingness in the middle of the song.
"Ga haur te'lea
Es'an ehn shia ga te'laim
Shan ea soun tel'banafelasa
Bre'gen'adahl ea tel'dera i'eireth
Ise juthen o genise..." [3]
2 Harvestmere, 9:32 Dragon: Brecilian Forest, southeast Ferelden
By the beginning of the month of Kingsway, they'd gotten back to Orzammar. They stayed in the city of stone for three days to rest and restock. Natia remained low and out of the way of her successor to the post of Warden-Constable, who tried to call on her twice for advice. Both times, she had her sister say that she was ill and could not be disturbed. The Warden-Constable, predictably, came to the conclusion that her Calling had to be near. She didn't dissuade that assumption.
It took the greater part of the month of Kingsway to travel from Orzammar across the Bannorn to the Brecilian Forest, and another full week in the forest before they found the right trail. On the second day of Harvestmere, they finally found the elven ruins. They had followed Ariane deep into the Brecilian Forest. She had led them easily, following trail signs that Nat couldn't see, crossing the Brecilian Passage north of Gwaren not long before switching to a much older goats'-track trail. They found a blackened, burnt area that they searched for several days before finally coming across what had to be the entrance.
Banal'ras appeared just before they approached the entrance and dropped a bunch of torn flowers on Ariane's foot. She crouched and ruffled the wolf's fur as she picked up the sad-looking blossoms. "Look, Finn, he fetched me a flower! Oh, how thoughtful. It's very pretty. Slobbery, but pretty." The wolf flopped onto his back and wiggled around as she rubbed his belly.
"You should just tell him to fetch a Morrigan. It would save us a lot of trouble," said Finn.
"These are the ruins. The broken Eluvian should be around here." Ariane straightened from where she had been inspecting the carvings on the entrance. "It says an'dinathe varamal...'danger, keep out' but we're all rule-breakers here." [4]
"Oh, I'm so excited!" Finn shivered and glanced around, eyes wide and bright.
"Years ago, when the Sabrae clan first came upon it, it was Tainted by the Eluvian," said Ariane as they entered the mostly buried ruins. "All the elves that came in here got sick and died until the Keeper of that clan burned the Taint from everything. If not for that, we'd be getting sick, ourselves."
"Look at this place—these are elven statues, but the architecture is clearly human in design. Humans and elves living together!" Finn whipped out his notebook and began scribbling notes. Natia had improved her literacy since accepting the paperwork-burdened post in Orzammar, but she still had to read slowly and had trouble understanding anything less than perfect script. Finn's messy handwriting was too much for her. She suspected he was using his own shorthand.
Wind whistled through the ruins, empty of all life. Finn and Ariane both lingered over ancient statues and crumbling relics, exclaiming over the significance of every little thing, but eventually they found their way into a chamber with a giant mirror-frame standing on a platform in the center of the room. The edges of the frame were lined with shards of mirror, and the ground around it was covered in tiny pieces. Behind it lay a back exit.
"I can't believe this is one of the Eluvians. It's magnificent...and broken. Mostly broken." The human picked up a larger shard, shaking his head regretfully at the waste, then continued: "With this shard, and the Lights of Arlathan, we should be able to scry for an unbroken mirror. This looks like a suitable place to do the ritual. We can start whenever you're ready."
Natia, not caring about the historical significance, nodded. "Let's do it."
"Prepare yourself. The ritual may attract... unwanted attention. You'll have to protect me." He placed the four Lights of Arlathan in a circle around himself, then started chanting and waving his hands around, holding his staff in one hand. Light rose from the Lights and swirled around him. Shards of the eluvian rose and drifted around him like dust motes in a beam of sunlight, flashing brilliantly as they reflected the light in every direction. They cast tiny rainbows over the walls and floor. "Here...we...go!"
Shades and a Rage Demon grew out of the floor and started attacking. Natia, Ariane, and Banal'ras held them off while Finn kept casting. As beings of the Fade, they couldn't affect Natia as they did Ariane, though her enchanted axes dealt them heavy damage. As Finn's chanting increased in pace and volume, more shades appeared. Finally he went quiet and the remaining shades faded away.
Finn swayed on his feet, clutching his staff to keep upright. "Phew! Am I bleeding? Oh look, a rip in my robe." His grip loosened on his staff, and it clattered to the ground as he collapsed.
"What happened to, 'Ariane, give us your blood. Who cares if it hurts?'" Ariane teased, not nearly as mocking as she had been the first day they'd met him. "Vyn esaya gera assan i'mar'av'ingala." [5]
"It's...my blood. That's different," the mage protested, lying spread-eagle, eyes closed.
"Don't be such a baby," said Nat impatiently, on edge from being near so much magic. It was a little-known fact about dwarves that they could feel magic being used, felt it as if it were in the air they breathed, though it did not affect them and they couldn't enter the Fade. "Did the ritual work?"
"Oh, er...sorry." He got to his feet, stumbling drunkenly and almost falling, and tossed back a vial of lyrium to steady himself. "I've pinpointed another Eluvian. It's in the Dragonbone Wastes. The Tevinters probably moved it there to see if the ancient dragon bones could enhance the Eluvian's power."
"Warden-Commander Amell's been to the Dragonbone Wastes. He mentioned no mirror." Natia tried to think back to that report. It had only been a few months ago, and it hadn't been a formal report. Maybe he'd seen it and didn't think it worth mentioning. He'd told her of the Mother and the Architect, both of whom the Wardens of Vigil's Keep had killed, but not every detail. Dragon bones? She knew the dragon armour that Wade had created for the Bloodhound Cousland had given her a great resistance to magic and flame alike, but to enhance power? The Tevinters had worshipped dragons as gods, once, Ages ago. Perhaps they thought the elves of Arlathan had done likewise. Perhaps they hadn't realized the Eluvian was an Arlathan artifact and, in their arrogance, thought it one of their own.
"It might be hidden... or only appear to those who know its location." Finn shrugged. He gestured to the Lights of Arlathan, which still lay on the floor where he'd left them. "What should we do with these? I'd like to take them back to the Circle, but—"
"Definitely not," Ariane said, brooking no argument. "My clan will take good care of them, and at the next Arlathvhen[6] the rest of the Dalish will be able to see them."
"I have no reason to argue. What's that?" Natia wanted to know.
"Arlathvhen? It's a Dalish thing. We all get together once every ten years or so." Ariane picked up the ancient lanterns and placed them gently back in her pack. There must have been some sort of ancient Arlathan enchantment on them, for the pack didn't appear to be full when she closed it. She looked to the other two. "Now what?"
"We examine the mirror. It might give us clues to what Morrigan's doing. If she's looking for the Eluvians as well, she might even be there. Shall we?" Fully recovered now, Finn motioned towards the entrance of the ruins.
Nat nodded. "We've come this far. Let's not waste any time. Morrigan has enough of a head start on us."
*These are mostly examples of my own poor conlang skills, taken from different words in fenxshiral's Project Elvhen Lexicon. You can find it on Ao3.*
[1]Ena'sal'in'abelas: Ancient arcane warriors that would protect the tombs where ancient elves slumbered in Uth'then'era.
[2]gen'iseth: ash from a fire that is still warm.
[3]The Riddle of Strider, from Tolkein's LoTR, translated into Elvhen by fenxshiral
[4]an'dinathe varamal: danger, keep away; lit. place of the dead, far away keeping
[5]Vyn esaya gera assan i'mar'av'ingala: You are a moron. Lit. You would try to catch an arrow with your teeth.
[6]Arlathvhen: lit. "People Home." The meeting of the Dalish clans' keepers, which takes place every ten years and last two days.