I spotted, who will probably become our newest companion a little further up from the trail.

A really really strange and not really pleasant sounding noise rang through my head for a little before the elf, who I'm guessing is Merrill, turned to look at us.

"Hello, I'm Hawke," I said waving at her slightly, "did you just hear a strange noise? Or was that just me?"

"I didn't hear anything." Carver frowned.

"No, I didn't hear anything," the elf said with a low voice.

Suspicious.

"Does this mean I'm going crazy?" I asked Varric after deciding to play along.

"You're already pretty crazy, Hawke."

"You must be the one the Keeper told me about, Aneth ara," her voice perked up as she looked at me with those huge eyes elves are famous for, "I'm so sorry, I didn't catch your name. Unless… it's not rude to ask a human their name, is it?"

"'Course not, my name is Hawke. Marian Hawke," I repeated, "everyone calls me Hawke, so feel free to do that as well."

"I'm Merrill, which you probably knew already," she said meekly, "I am… or I guess was… the First to Keeper Marethari. I've studied the old ways for as long as I can remember.

I know things, the lore of the Dalish that can help us get to the summit of Sundermount."

"Introductions out of the way," I said moving my hands in a way that suggested putting something aside, "why are you leaving for Kirkwall?"

"I have to," she replied, "let's leave it at that for now, alright?"

"Did you do something you shouldn't have?" I asked crossing my arms over my chest.

"It's not like that!" she raised her voice, "…not exactly anyway…

"The Keeper and I have disagreements, but it will sort itself out in time."

"You seem awfully nervous," I said looking her over, "you'll have to get more of a backbone if you want to survive Kirkwall."

"It's just… I've never met a human before. Dalish mothers frighten their children with stories about you, you know." She replied

"Ah! Not you, personally of course. I'm sure they don't have any tales about you. Or not scary ones at least…

"Not that you're not notable enough to have a story… I'll just shut up now."

"Obviously she hasn't been to the Hanged Man." Varric snorted.

"Varric, you're not working hard enough. I thought you were spreading stories about how great I am to everyone who'll lend you an ear," I frowned, "the entirety of the Free Marches should know of my glory!"

"Keep dreaming, Hawke." Varric chuckled.

"I'd rather not. I'm actually glad that they don't know me," I replied, "you know, being an apostate and all, trying to lay low."

"For someone 'trying to lay low' you seem to get mixed up in a lot of eye-catching situations." Fenris replied dryly.

"Eh, well, you know, life is weird," I replied with a grin, "Anyway, you'll have to try pretty hard to offend me."

"It's not actually that hard." Carver whispered loudly. Purposefully making sure everyone could hear him.

"You shut up."

"Thank you," Merrill replied cutting into the conversation. I could see a small amount of her tenseness fade away and her shoulders dropped slightly.

"I'm afraid I'm not very experienced with your kind," she smiled sheepishly, "the Keeper said you came from Ferelden, I spent most of my life there. We only came North a few years ago. Have you been in the Free Marches long? Do you like it here?"

"I'm not very experienced with your kind either, so I suppose we're even," I replied before heaving a soft sigh, "I miss the cold, and the dirt, Kirkwall's not brown enough for me, and my poor Puppykins misses the wide open fields he used to run around in. But hey! No darkspawn!"

"I really hate that name." Carver grumbled.

"Hawke, you seriously named your dog Puppykins?" Varric said with his mouth hanging slightly ajar.

"Indeed. He chose me, and I got to choose his name," I replied proudly, "and it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"I tried to talk her out of it so many times." Carver sighed deeply.

"Things I've learned about Hawke," Fenris said, "don't let her name anything."

"Ouch."

"But Ferelden wasn't that brown! The dirt and muck gave it character!" she piped in, "but I can see why you'd be concerned with the lack of space for a dog to run around in."

"We should go, your task is for Asha'bellanar," Merrill said suddenly serious, "it's not wise to make her wait."

That business tone sure came out of nowhere.

"Well, I'd like to clarify some things first:

1. What do we have to do with the amulet?

2. Have you been expecting me to bring this for a while?

3. Do you know Flemeth?"

"The rite for the amulet is rite kind of for a funeral of sorts; I'll perform it when we get to the mountaintop. Getting there is the tricky part, our hunters haven't been able to reach the summit," she replied answering question number one, "dark things are about."

I'd like to take a moment here and rewind the events that just happened in my head for a second. Am I carrying a dead person in amulet form right now? Marethari mentioned something that hinted towards that, and now Merrill's talking about a funeral rite. Are we exorcising this? What is going on with this thing? Am I going to die? I feel like I'm going to die.

They're sending me on a hike up a mountain to weaken me, and then Flemeth's going to pop out of nowhere and kill me. That's what's going to happen. I can feel it.

"The Keeper brought us here to wait for you," Merrill replied breaking me out of my thought train, "I don't know much more than that, other than you have Asha'bellanar's amulet and that we must bring it to the altar on the mountaintop. Nothing more.

No, I don't know Asha'bellanar personally; my people tell stories about her. You're very lucky; most people who meet Asha'bellanar wind up in little pieces…hanging from trees."

"Well, let's get this over with, I suppose." I said after gathering all the information I wanted.

I'll probably forget it all later.

Okay, we officially know too many mages.

"CARVER!" I hissed dragging him off to the side for a two person huddle, "why do we know so many mages?!"

"Like attracts like?"

"Don't you steal Fenris' words here!" I frowned, "I mean I'm all for mage power and all but I don't wanna get stuck in the gallows. I mean it's the gallows."

"Well then you'll have to be extra careful now won't you?"

"BECAUSE I'M BEING SO CAREFUL WHEN I HAVE TO FLING GLOWING BALLS OF MAGIC AROUND AT NIGHT WHEN WE GET ATTACKED BY THUGS!"

"Go to bed earlier?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

Carver sighed.

"The Keeper didn't mention you were a mage." I said walking back towards the group.

"I imagine it's difficult to give away something nobody wants." Fenris growled.

While that growl is sexy, those words are uncalled for.

"Oh, nobody wants me here. Got it. I'm gonna go home," I said tossing my hands up into the air, "Carver, you can handle the dragon lady's errand right?"

"No."

"I didn't mean you, Hawke." Fenris sighed.

"I am still also a mage," I pursed my lips together, "please choose your words in a manner that won't also offend me. You can offend any other mage, just not me. It's now a rule."

"And so the Great Hawke declared that all mages except for her are fair game." Varric said tossing his hands up.

"All Keepers know a bit of old magic, the stories tell us that all elvhen once had the give, but like so many things, it was lost…" Merrill said defending herself, "it's a Keeper's job to remember, to restore what we can."

"Can't demons possess Dalish mages?" Carver asked.

"It can happen, and when it does, the clan must hunt and kill their own Keeper." Merrill answered.

"Does the Chantry know about the Dalish mages?" I asked.

"Oh, they know. Keeper Marethari told me that that was one of the reasons we never camped too long in one place," Merrill explained, "they usually won't pursue us if we stay away from cities and towns and keep moving. But my clan is now in more danger, having lost our halla."

"You do realize that if you go to Kirkwall, you'll be an apostate right smack dab in the middle of a city of templars right?" Varric asked.

"I know, but if I don't go to Kirkwall, I'll be alone, a solitary elf is easy prey for anyone," she sounded desperate, "in the city I can get lost in the crowd."

"Well nothing I can really say, I mean, it's not like I can tell her not to," I said, "I'm a mage smack dab right in the middle of Kirkwall. So is Anders, and Anders advertises himself as a healer. So maybe it's not that bad."

"Well as long as you fling the magic away from us and towards the enemy," Carver said, "I don't care what you do."