Chapter 2: Washed in Blood
The Iron Bull had found one more survivor under the floorboards named Roy. It was another messenger elf collected a few days ago. He didn't talk much and had lost a few fingers during his stay with the necromancers. Anger was often in his eyes as he glared at Elek during their travels. Perhaps it was because all of her digits remained. More likely it was because she didn't remember anything of the horrors he witnessed. There even was a mild chance that he wished to be the one carried by Iron Bull. Instead Elek found herself hung over the large man's shoulder. She swayed with each step. Her thin hands gripped his back for support but it hardly helped. Iron Bull laughed majority of the way back to town as Krem would join in and out between his series of serious dialogue. Through it, Elek became slightly more open. Her mind withdrew from the recent events to find solace in the new friendship. She would sometimes forget her pain until they reached town.
Most of the elf expected to arrive at a small hotel or homestead - perhaps even a tent. Yet, as she rode on the shoulder of the grey skinned giant, she found herself entering a tavern. It was small, shabby and in disrepair. On a crooked sign hanging from its door a few letters could be recognized; although they made little sense together. It was quickly brushed from her mind.
After pushing through the wooden door, Iron Bull let loose a deep chuckle as he called out, "Chargers!" A few roars followed with more laughing. Some would add, "Good to see you, boss," while others noted something similar to, "Looks like we'll be getting paid after-all." Iron Bull would return each statement in part before gently placing the Elek down on a table. The bar was mostly wooden and empty. Ripped flags hung around the place as old memories of glory days. Between the ceiling planks there was a thick layer of dust and a bird nest or two. The air was stagnant, warm and dusty.
Iron Bull was the next one to speak. "Alright, we got two survivors. I need someone to clean 'em so we can send them on their way." The leader stated as he looked back to his companions. A few of the members piped up to debate whose turn it was. Eventually a woman named Dalish volunteered. She left to gather materials as Iron Bull sat down on a chair. His legs took a wide stance when he rested his hands on his thighs. "Well," He happily addressed the two survivors, "What do you two say to a drink?"
The first to respond was Roy who simply shook his head and kept his eyes to the ground. Elek shrugged half-heartedly. Her mind tried not to focus on the remaining dull sting that pulsed through her veins, "I wouldn't mind one but I'd have to owe you the gold."
Iron Bull laughed, "After today's bounty, let's just say we're even."
Elek teased with a very subtle smile, "So that wasn't out of the kindness of your heart?" The woman had propped herself onto her elbows as she peered over to the man. However, it started to sting so she had to constantly reshuffle her weight. It mattered little compared to her need for social company.
"I'm not gonna say gold's the only reason I do it but it keeps the drinks flowing." He answered. Quickly, the man whistled over a bar wench. The servant was moving to take the order by the time Dalish returned with a bucket of water and a few rags. One of the other chargers took a rag and moved to work on Roy who would shrug at every response. Dalish would begin with Elek.
"This will sting." She warned as she pressed the cloth against a few cuts on her shin. The elf winced and nodded through it. "Got it," She barked back as the pain started to dissipate. But then the cloth was pulled back, washed and replaced on another cut. Each press didn't get better but emotionally she was improving. In some ways, it was like a spiritual cleaning to wash the blood and dirt from the horrid affair.
"Looks like they'll heal nicely," The white-haired woman cooed as she brushed away some chunks of dirt from Elek's knee. "Skinner, can you help with the toes? They need some splints." A man obeyed without complaint which left Elek to breathe heavily through the pinching pain of having her toes pulled back into place. A few groans escaped her lips as Iron Bull arrived at her side with a glass.
"So you're a moaner. I'll remember that." He laughed as he presented the drink to her. With a nod she took the cup and lifted it up. "Thanks." She answered almost sarcastically. It didn't take long for her to suck back a large sip and replace it back onto the table.
Iron Bull silently watched her face for a time. His single eyes pacing each feature until he spoke, "Hey, hand me a rag." Skinner passed one of the cloths already partially red from soaked blood. "What?" Elek asked. She didn't get an answer. Instead she felt a pressure on her cheek and she felt a searing pain. Her teeth clenched as she jerked back.
"Settle down for a minute." He stated. His large hand pressed against her face again with a similar pain. Her teeth clenched tighter and tried to stay her ground. The cloth kept dragged across her flesh over and over until Iron Bull finally took a step back. "Yep, kid, looks like you'll get quite the scar."
Finally able to breathe Elek muttered, "Really?"
"No, you got a pretty little tattoo across the entire side of your face." Skinner joked with a sneaky smile. Dalish hit him but it didn't stop his quiet chuckles. Horror was the first thing she felt. The elf pulled her hand meet with the torn flesh across her face. It stung to touch but still she followed the cut from the corner of check up to her ear. It was opened enough to fit the full tip of her finger between the tear. Between the pain of her foot and arms, it was hard for her to remember it hurting. But there it was.
"It'll be fine," Dalish tried to recover with a modest smile, "We'll sew it up and the scar won't be too bad."
A silence came over Elek's mind. The room moved on as it would. Skinner was wrapping up her toes and Dalish was collecting the rags. Roy and the other Charger were talking – or really, the Charger was retelling an old story as Roy simply nodded on and off. A few Chargers in the back were drinking and roaring up a storm. Instead she was left to consider her life. Things would change. Beneath her breath she whispered, "It's gonna be repulsive."
"Hey, watch who you're talking to," Iron Bull laughed, "I think it adds character." Letting her blue eyes scan his body, she saw her error. The man had an excess of scars all over his body. Their textured paths across his grey skin were like a map where each ripple of skin was a mountain. Many of them were much larger than hers and splintered across his body. Even his face had deep grooves between his flesh, left over from when he lost his eye. Yet, the man was mostly naked as if he was proud of them. Narcissism could have been another option, which by his sexual nature it seemed likely.
"Well you get your sex appeal from being a strong manly type. I used to be this fragile looking elf. Aristocrats liked that." Elek murmured. Her body found minor weakness in the moment and dropped back to lie on the table. It wasn't out of emotional grief, although she was having her bouts. Physically she was exhausted.
"Fragile, huh? I'd like to test that." Iron Bull joked as he picked up his glass and took a swig.
Elek blushed but didn't turn away the opportunity for playful banter to lift her spirits, "I'll put you on the list."
Iron Bull smiled, "Make sure to write me down twice." His teeth glistened past his grey lips before he took another sip. Elek followed, although she slightly struggled to heave herself back into a sitting position and take a drink. After it was finished, Iron Bull sent for another. Dalish had started to work on her cheek as the rest of the Chargers came over to join in the banter. The drinks helped her smile through it as well as the tales that were being swung about. Some stories were of valour, many of funny misfortune, and only one or two about emotionally-charged stories. Sometime though, Elek was asked about what she could remember. It started with a hesitation and a weak grin before she let down her guard and let her red, drunken lips do the talking.
"I was outside. I mean, obviously outside, you know, running. Um," She stumbled and slurred, "Just left the manor maybe, er, one day ago? Yeah. Two days. I was heading to Val Royeaux for some noble man. Can't remember who. Maybe Ich-something? I usually work that out closer to the arrival. But Ich-something. I was coming down this dark road. It wasn't night yet, maybe late afternoon. Sun setting kind of thing. Like, the last red rays of light coming down. It was actually really pretty. Then I saw this cart that had broken down. I remember there being two people and thinking 'I should help them'. Not sure why, well I know why. I was curious about them. Something was off...it was a smell." She paused to take a drink. One of the chargers laughed and took it away from her, saying she had enough and to continue. She nodded and obeyed. "They smelled like that basement. They smelled sour. Like, a hint of sour. That was the last thing I remember. It just, it goes black. I walked to them; almost saw a face then black. But that's it. Then I was there, in the basement." She paused in a sober moment of remembrance. "I heard someone die down there, too. I think, I think if I could have found them I could have helped them." Her brow had furrowed. "They asked for help." Her face had started to burn as the tears welled. "I could have helped." Her body slouched over as her head hinted downward.
One of the Chargers had met at her side and patted her back. His face soft as she answered, "Hey, hey, it's okay. You've had a lot tonight. Let's get you to bed." She simply nodded. The man made a confirmation with the group where to place her before picking her up and carrying her upstairs. The rest remained enjoying themselves at the bar.
The group had rented out the small rooms above the bar. They were meant for the family that managed the place but it was mostly abandoned now. There were a few crooked beds lying around the room and small wooden furniture. The Charger laid her down on the straw mattress and began to step away as she murmured under her drunken breath, "Can you just stay with me for a while?" The man said yes, and took a seat on one of the beds. Elek nodded. "Good," She quietly cooed as she was swept away to sleep. The man sat on the bed for a few moments and whispered her name to test her awareness. When no response came, he quietly stood and left to leave the door open.
After a few hours, Elek awoke. It was a slow awakening, as if slipping out of the dream world piece by piece. But there were voices in the background that trickled into her thoughts by the gap in the door. The first voice was harsh and new. She had never heard it before but it seemed to know about her. "How did you not see that scar earlier? It goes across her whole face." The unfamiliar voice spoke in a harsh whisper.
Another voice answered. It was Krem. "She was covered in blood and dirt. I could hardly even tell she was elvish, let alone injured. What does it matter?" It was a softer whisper but still strange in the silence of the room. But then the harsh voice came back.
"She's disfigured. Can't have a screwed face sending around messages. The aristocrats probably won't even house her now. Bad luck from that, they say." It sounded like a man and she tried to place a face on the voice but failed. Probably it was because the sobering up process deluded her perception of what happened hours ago. Yet, he had said exactly what she was worried about. Krem had begun to speak again but it was dulled out by her mind which ticked through its worries. No money, no family, no job.
Her face burned. She could feel the tears swell. There were limited options for a person of her background. She opened her eyes finally, as if to let loose the tears. Instead they were paused. Elek saw something standing over her in the dark. A figure, shadow, form - many words could be used to fill in the description. But it, in all ways of the word, was unexpected. The black outline of a body whispered quietly to her 'Shhhh,' before palming her mouth shut.