It took a while, before I realized something especially important, to my own well being at least, if not to others as well. As I looked around, at all the soldiers and groups of people – possibly from all over Thedas, though I couldn't be sure – I realized that, I was in fact surrounded by people, most of which being human. I couldn't feed here, not even if I wanted. I had fed before I left, but off of a creature, not a human, which meant that I wouldn't be able to last for too long. Andraste's flaming tits. I needed to remember to ask Duncan about what to do after I found this Alistair man, where ever he may be. He knew what I was, and hopefully wouldn't be bothered by my questionings. Or, maybe we wouldn't be in Ostagar for very long and it wouldn't matter; I did doubt that he'd be too keen on the idea of me feeding on innocents and possibly killing them, and I doubted that "a demon made me do it" would be a good excuse. Of course, the human didn't have to die in this draining act, as I didn't take all of the blood unless the human struggled, or if I was running low on it, like I would be soon. There was no winning in this. With a little sigh, I continued to walk, stopping only briefly at the sound of a little whine followed by soft little pained yelps. I frowned, and turned in the direction of the sound, a little fenced in area with a man standing in front, behind slightly over the fence, possibly looking at the hound making the fuss.
I walked closer, to get a better look, but when he turned to me, he looked rather startled, his eyes a little too wide and a sharp gasp accompanied by a hand being placed to his armored chest. He hadn't heard me walk over, I figured, dismissed the reaction, and I glanced over the gate, seeing a dog, head hung and panting softly as if exhausted, then back to the man.
"What's wrong with him?" I asked, and briefly thought back to how the halla reacted to death in the Dalish camp, and they were connected to the elves in one way or another. They were crying during the funeral for Tamlen, like they did during any, but they seemed to have more pained and drawn out whines that hurt even my ears, and brought back my headache. I shook my head at the thought, thinking that now was not the appropriate time to think of such things, though, I figured that there probably would be worse times, and a lack of a time that could be better. Thinking of it when ever I had the chance would be better, but I figured that I shouldn't consume myself with it as that would only lead to distraction – which was bad.
"He was injured in the Wilds, and his owner was killed," I noticed the small frown on the man's lips, and I glanced towards the dog again; it backed away from the fence with a hardly audible whimper, "I want to give him his medicine, but I can't unless he's muzzled."
The man paused for a moment, staring at me, and I felt myself want to hiss at him, but I simply turned my head away, lowering my eyes to the ground. It wasn't his fault, he didn't know. Actually, most people didn't know why I disliked being stared at, that was too long of a story to explain to a random person that I didn't even know the name of. I remembered that I had to explain it to the clan quickly, because the stares happened frequently with me being new and all. Tamlen and Keeper heard first, and they spread it around the clan in an attempt to keep eyes from focusing on me, though I knew it wouldn't be helped if a person did.
"Would you mind . . . trying to muzzle him for me? I would really appreciate it." He asked, and I couldn't help by smile a bit when I looked back up in his direction.
"I wouldn't mind." I was going to set my bag down before I walked in, but I found the idea pointless as it wouldn't take that long whether I succeeded or not.
The muzzle exchanged hands and I walked into the pen, inching closer to the dog. It backed away, perhaps instinctively, and I kneeled down, placing my hand under its nose for him to sniff. I knew of the Mabari though not much, and I figured that he'd be able to smell through the glove, though I of course wasn't sure; I don't remember ever fully encountering one, especially in Tevinter or Orlais; I had met men that acted of savage dogs, though that was a different story. He seemed content enough with my scent, and allowed me to stroke his head, panting softly, but in uneven breaths.
The man from before was watching curiously from behind the fence; I could feel his eyes on the back of my head, watching my hands as I gently placed the muzzle against the dog's mouth without too much resistance from the wounded hound. The man walked in behind me, and I backed out, giving him enough space to administer the medicine. The animal whined again, seeming to almost submissively growl, but then he lowered his head.
"Will the dog be okay?" I asked, leaning against the gate as the man returned and he looked away before speaking.
"Well, the medicine should subdue the affects of his injury, but that won't heal him completely; also, he's lost his master, and it's not always easy to find him another. You see, Mabaris imprint on their masters and are bonded . . ." The man began to trail off and I wanted to yawn, but I felt that it would be rude.
"Can you imprint him on me? I wouldn't mind having a Mabari wandering around with me. I need some sort of close companionship." The latter statement was whispered, and the man smiled faintly at me.
"Maybe, but I would need to fix him up completely first. You do plan on going into the Wilds don't you?" at his question, I shrugged, though if I needed to go there to help the dog, I would, "well, if you go, could you look for a flower, it's white with a red center, I should be able to use it to heal him."
I nodded slowly, smiling and waved to the man before walking away, pausing in my steps next to what appeared to be a makeshift clinic as I thought about where this 'Alistair' man would be. Alistair was an interesting name, I thought to myself as I adjusted the bag on my shoulder and nipped at my lower lip as I figured that stopping wouldn't help in finding him, unless he walked up himself. I stopped again, by what looked to be a shop and before I could part my lips to ask to trade, the man snapped at me.
"Where have you been? I sent you too—"
"You haven't sent me for anything, shem . . ." I growled, and he blinked slowly in realization then shook his head, waving his hands apologetically.
"I'm sorry, I thought you were—" I cut him off again, looking away and rolling my eyes apathetically. I didn't care who he thought I was, actually I already knew; he thought I was some servant elf that likely wasn't paid enough, and certainly didn't deserve such words. This was the reason why I never fully became a city elf, foolish shemlens like these. I realized that I was growing far too irritated and I need not be.
"Ugh, never mind, I'll take my business else where," I stepped to walk away, but I stared at him for a long moment then sighed, "not all elves are as nice as me, shem, if I had been a less forgiving one you'd have a dagger to your throat."
He only frowned and turned away from me, and I sighed. At least I warned him – I didn't have to. I was starting to find not much interest in this place, especially after that episode. It was too noisy, and seemingly disorganized, not that the Dalish always were. My Orlesian Keeper always had trouble with keeping us organized, especially with me constantly roaming off. Hard to keep track of us all, I supposed. I walked farther away from the noise, and up a stone ramp where I saw two people speaking, I stood at an eavesdropping distance, and heard bits and pieces on an argument before one of the men – I assumed from his attire that he was a mage – walked away.
"What was that?" I couldn't stop myself from asking and the man turned to me and gave a little chuckle.
I thought he was cute, kind of. He looked like the type that had a goofy grin without a reason, or at least for a reason that wasn't known to anyone but himself. Not that it was a bad thing – humor was nice. I wouldn't judge him based on his looks however, though I would admit to myself that I wanted to touch his hair. I always found blond hair interesting, if that wasn't weird, which it probably was. I smiled, just a little, and then he shrugged his shoulders.
"Wait . . . you wouldn't happen to be Alistair, would you? If you are, you're just about the luckiest thing that's happen to me today." I laughed, and then noticed the quirk in his eye brow and how he held up his hands in defense and realized what I had said.
"Oh, not like that, I mean, I was supposed to be looking for you . . ." I frowned and figured I should start this differently. "I'm Lysias, and Duncan told me to find you and then find him, and all this finding . . ."
It was hard not to complain. We had walked all the way from my clan, to here, where ever Ostagar really was, and then I had to walk more; it was all rather tedious in my opinion. I saw his smile and he shook his head, giving me a glance over before he looked past me. He seemed nice, I thought to myself, but again, I didn't mention it, since I didn't exactly know him.
"Yes, I am Alistair, and you must me the new recruit?" He raised a brow and then smiled at my nod.
"Then we walk?" I asked, and was tempted to grab his hand, but he wasn't Tamlen; we had to walk at a comfortable distance, no hand holding, no grabbing, and no accident rear swatting. I pouted at the thought as I turned and started on my way. Alistair didn't seem the type – or my type at least – given how he reacted to my words earlier.
"So, where did you come from?" I figured he was asking because of my accent, much like how most people seemed to, at least he wasn't drilling me with questions.
"I came from Orlais, but Duncan found me in a . . . cave pretty much," I laughed to myself then shook my head, "I've lived in a Dalish camp here for a little over two years." I was sure to leave out the 'running away from a crazed Tevinter mage' part out, just to be safe.
I slowed my pace, because I wanted to continue the conversation, and he walked up next to me. He had to be at least a foot taller than me give or take. I sighed, and tried to think of a question to ask him. I thought of asking him about the Wardens, but I didn't want to, as in my opinion that wasn't as interesting as anything else I could possibly ask. I hummed to myself, focusing on where I was going, but then I stopped and noticed a man in a cage, leaning his back against the metal and frowning.
My curiosity of course got the better of me, and I sighed, walking over and peering up at the man who noticed me, albeit, with a bit of shock and his frown deepened.
"Usually people don't come and talk to the prisoner," he looked the two of us over, and Alistair glanced at me, as if questioning why I had come over in the first place.
"I'm not the usual person." I replied, and shrugged my shoulders. I felt my bag begin to slide and I shifted it back over with a lift of my arm. I couldn't wait until I could finally put it down.
"Maybe that's a good thing," he sighed and glanced past us at a man, presumably his guard, glancing back at us momentarily before looking forward again, "I haven't been fed since they locked me in here, not even a drink. They may have forgotten of me, with the upcoming battle and all, but could you please ask my guard if he could spare something? I'd appreciate it."
I pondered for a moment, glancing from the man to the guard a few feet in front of us. I was almost tempted to kill the guard, not for the prisoner, but to feed, but I realized that too many people would see it, and Alistair didn't know that I was a blood gatherer, yet, and even if he did I doubted that he would have been too keen on the idea of me suddenly draining an innocent. I nodded, eyes still resting on the guard as a moved towards him. I placed a hand to his shoulder to get his attention, feeling the cold of his armor through my glove, but I figured that effect happened with most armor if it wasn't constantly out in the sun. He turned to me, his brow cocked in a questioning manner. I smiled, small enough to shield my fangs from his view.
"What is it?" He asked, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that I was touching him, either that, or just completely disinterested. It didn't matter much to me either way.
"Well, you see that prisoner behind us? The poor, barely clothed man, covered in blood?" I asked and he placed his hand over mine, removing it from his shoulder and he turned to me fully, crossing his arms over his chest.
"What about him? He's been complaining to you, no doubt." I could have sworn that I heard a hint of a chuckle in his tone, but I dismissed it as my mishearing.
"He's hungry, and says that he hasn't been fed since he was locked up. Perhaps you could spare some food? You wouldn't want him to stave, and covered in blood too. He'd die and it'd seem that you tortured him to death." I feigned a pout, hearing a chuckle from Alistair somewhere behind me.
The guard blinked a few quick blinks and grumbled, and glanced back at the prisoner, who was now sitting again, eyes closed and leaning against his cage. Then his eyes returned to me and he turned away from a brief moment to grab something, then he placed a few small food items – I couldn't identify them, and honestly doubted that I would ever want to – in my hand. He said nothing all the while, and dismissed me with a flick of his hand. I smiled and returned the prisoner, passing him the food through the cage.
"You're welcome." I spoke before the man could speak, and he smiled at me.
"Thank you." He said regardless, and Alistair tapped my shoulder, mentioning that we should probably be going.
I waved to the caged man, and followed behind Alistair, not minding his leading, since that may stop me from getting sidetracked, again.
"That was a nice thing you did." I heard him speak, and I hummed in response, not knowing much else to say about it, that and my pallet was starting to burn and I didn't want my voice to come out hoarse. There was a chance he'd question it, and I didn't want that because I wasn't sure if I'd be able to give a good and clear answer.
I tried to clear my throat, but ended up coughing instead, covering my mouth with my arm as I found it hard to catch my breath when I started. My walking halted, mostly after walking right into to Alistair's chest, and I glanced up at him for a brief moment, and I wanted to sigh; he must have stopped walking when I started coughing. I shook my head, after I managed to stop and I felt his eyes on me, and I sensed his concern, and only pouted.
"Fine," I tried, making sure that my voice was clear enough – it wasn't, "I'm fine."
It sounded like I had let a halla trample on my throat, and then clean it's hooves on it. I humored the idea of clearing my throat again, until I felt Alistair's hand on my shoulder.
"Are you alright?" He asked, and I wondered if he had ignored what I had just said because of the way my voice sounded. I groaned in displeasure, and nodded my head, but he seemed to not believe me, he just stood there, hands crossed over his chest like a disapproving parent about to scold a child.
"You don't look the type-" I started, clearing my voice again with a much better outcome, "the type to be all disapproving. I'm fine, really. My throat is . . . dry." At least I wasn't lying.
"Then maybe we should get you some water?" He offered and I smiled at him, shaking my head.
"That's not what I need. I'll explain when we get to Duncan, alright? Don't worry, if I were in dire need of something I'd be on the ground right now."
And honestly, I was surprised that I wasn't on the ground. He sighed, but nodded, and started walking again, keeping a close eye on me the entire time, which bothered me, but I managed to ignore it enough since he was being kind about it. During a moment, while he wasn't looking, my tattoos glowed faintly, and briefly as a reaction to my thirst, and incoming lack of energies.
"There you are." Duncan spoke calmly when he saw us approaching, and I noticed two other men standing near. I allowed Alistair to introduce the other two men, saying they were also recruits.
Ser Jory seemed fidgety, which I noticed, and smiled at, though I figured that his actions were with reason. This whole Grey Warden business wasn't like walking through flowers, which was more than obvious. The other man, Daveth, seeming a little more reliable, and he didn't seem as worried, and a little more confident with everything. He seemed content with all that was happening. I was barely listening to Duncan's explanation about what we had to do in the Wilds.
" . . . you need to acquire three flasks of darkspawn blood, and find the Grey Warden Cache."
I looked up and tilted my head, asking for permission with my eyes and the fact that I grabbed my bag to sit it down, since of course we would have to fight darkspawn if that was the case. Duncan nodded, and I rested it to the side, and then yawned lightly.
"That sounds easy enough." I mumbled, and Ser Jory looked at me, a bit confused but he said nothing, he only shook his head.
I remembered the mabari hound, and how I had to find the flower, that was going to be one of the main things I'd pay attention to, other than not getting killed, of course. Maybe I'd be lucky enough to find something to feed—oh right; I was supposed to talk about that that.
"Lysias, I assume you've told Alistair about your special circumstances?" I heard Duncan ask, and I realized that now I didn't have much of a choice.
Alistair looked at me, and I glanced over, and pouted, shaking my head, and Duncan crossed his arms, showing that since it was my issue, I should probably explain myself. Duncan didn't know the entire story after all.
"Well, before I came to Ferelden, but after Orlais, I was a slave in Tevinter, and my old slave master did this ritual that's probably a sin in the eyes of the Maker," I was starting to grow annoyed with these explanations, "it made me a blood gatherer, so now I must feed on blood every so often so that it circulates. I'm a vessel for the use of blood magic, though I am no mage myself. Which . . . is why I had the coughing fit, Alistair, I'm running low. When we get to the Wilds, I may stop to feed, if I see a legitimate creature, and not a darkspawn, if it's all the same to the three of you, and if it isn't, just avert your eyes."
The three were silent for a moment, and I noticed Duncan looking away, as if thinking about something, whether it was what I had just said or not. Alistair spoke first, after clearing his throat. I wasn't looking at them though; my eyes had rested on Duncan for a long moment, before returning to my bags. Duncan picked them up, and I assumed that he planned on taking them somewhere safer and away from the fire behind him.
"So you feed on blood . . . for blood mages?" He asked, and I sighed, shrugging my shoulders as if I didn't really know.
"Yes, kind of, but I can choose what mages use my blood . . . unless they have a stronger will power than I. I'm not saying that I condone blood magic, if that's what you're implying. I'm rather neutral on the act myself, though I was owned by a blood mage." Again I shrugged.
"It's interesting," Daveth added, and I almost smiled at his words. That wasn't the usual reaction.
"Regardless, we should go, yes? The darkspawn are probably waiting with bated breath, though, if that's true . . . maybe we should take our time." I was tired of the conversation, and it had really just started.
My tattoos glowed intensely when we stepped into the Wilds, and Alistair seemed to be the only one that really noticed, though he said nothing about it. It was probably the darkspawn. I felt them, or so it seemed, and they were approaching at a wary pace as if eying us from a distance and getting a feel at how exactly they should attack. I also heard the howl of wolves, though I knew not where the sound was coming from. I wondered if they were corrupted as well, if they weren't, then that would be where I'd feed. I unsheathed the swords that had rested dormant at the sides of my legs and sighed lightly, shaking my head as I felt them come closer, inching slowly.
"Hurry up," I whispered, growing irritated. I half-wished that the darkspawn weren't intelligent enough to scan over a person before they attacked.
I slinked around a pond slowly, faintly hearing the others follow behind. They hadn't said anything since we had come out, and I thanked the Maker that they hadn't, as we would have most likely been attacked before we got our bearings. My eyes rolled with discontent, and I picked up my pace, hearing the hiss of a creature now fast approaching; my tattoos began to burn at my skin.
Alistair charged forward first, ramming the creature with his shield and knocking it to the ground, his sword quickly being plunged into the darkspawn's chest. It gurgled and wriggled before it went limp. More appeared, aiming bows and baring daggers, approaching slowly however, as if something was keeping them back. Then again, I heard a howl, followed by a few high yips. I shook my head and glanced behind me for Daveth, and I motioned for him to walk over with a flick of my blade.
"We could slip behind them while the other two attack from the front? Rouges are better from behind after all." I offered, and he grinned, almost too feral for my tastes, then turned to tell Ser Jory, and I spread the idea to Alistair when he walked back over.
Daveth and I waited behind as Alistair and Jory went forward, sword bearing, and when they were in contact with the first couple of darkspawn, we moved, quickly, yet as quietly as we could around the small hill they were now perched on. I felt Alistair's eyes on us, and I hoped that he was paying enough attention to not get injured – not when we had really just gotten into the Wilds. I managed to count at least six creatures – thought there were probably more considering that I looked fast – while we were circling the hill and after we had trekked up to the top, two were down. Daveth moved ahead of me, embedding one of his daggers in the back of one of the darkspawn's head, pulling it out before the creature began to fall, and he used the momentum from the pull to swing the small blade into another's neck. I watched only briefly, turning towards two that were starting to overpower Ser Jory. I moved quickly, catching one of the creatures by the neck with the curved sharp tip of one of the blades and I cut into its neck. It screeched, trying to move away, but it only caused it to dig deeper. I pulled back, and the head slid off, and rolled down the hill ungraciously and sunk to the bottom for the pond.
"Lysias, genlock, behind you!" I turned, ducking down to dodge a blade being swung towards my head, and I swung my arm, at first not knowing where I had cut as I had shielded my eyes before blood sprayed in it. When I moved my arm away from my face, I saw that I had sliced open its neck; a dark red blood dribbling down the side of the hill from the creature's neck.
"Eww . . ." I whispered, and turned, seeing that there was no more threat and I looked to Alistair after sheathing my blades.
"What's wrong?" He asked, and I raised a brow, holding out my glove covered – which was now stained with blood – out to him.
"The vials for the blood, I imagine you have them." Though, there was a chance he didn't of course, I never saw anything handed over, but then again I wasn't paying attention.
"Oh, right."
I turned away and leaned down to look over the one that I had last killed and my eyes narrowed. At least I knew what these specific darkspawn were called. I hummed to myself, until I was handed a vial. I frowned, pulling the dead genlock closer towards me, and I pulled one of my blades back out, cutting a gash in the creature's arm. The vial was placed against the 'skin' and I milked the wound, letting the blood run into the flask until it was full. Then I lodged the cork that had come with it into the container to close it and handed it back to Alistair.
"Alright, let's go find more." I started down the hill, leaving the one small sword in my hand as I remembered that there were still wolves near by. "We still need to find the Warden's cache, so we shouldn't get all the blood from one place; it'd make this all boring."
As we were walking, I noticed a flower growing out of a log, resting off to the side against what appeared to have used to be a stone structure of some sort. I walked over, examining it with my eyes, 'white with a red center,' just as the man had said. I plucked the flower, placing it in a small pack that was attacked to the belt that looped around my shoulder on my leather armor, then, without much explanation, I continued to walk.
"Why am I leading?" I felt the need to ask, glancing back at Alistair, who looked away momentarily and we pausing in our steps – something was approaching.
"You started to lead, and I didn't want to stop you," he shrugged his armored shoulders; "I don't like leading anyway."
"Yes, let the Orlesian lead," I chuckled to myself, "that'll surely raise questions."
I looked away, but I figured that Alistair had smiled; he seemed the type to do so. My other blade was unsheathed and around the side of the stone structure, near where I had found the flower, three wolves appeared, moving quickly towards us. This would have been a good time to have a bow – I briefly thought of Tamlen – but I shook my head, and I moved with Alistair, meeting one of the wolves halfway, I moved behind it as the blonde slashed towards the canine's head, dodging and baring his shield when the wolf moved to leap at him and bite. I took this opportunity to plunge one blade into the wolf's back, and once embedded, I twisted it. The pained howl that resulted hurt, just a little, then the canine dropped, just moments before Daveth and Jory felled the ones they were attacking.
There was a strange air radiating off of the wolves, as if they were corrupted as well, and since I didn't want to risk it, I backed away, and sheathed the long swords again. This wasn't going to work out well, I thought to myself, I needed something, and it didn't appear that I'd find anything out here.
"I've never seen blades like that before." Daveth commented, walking up next to me. I peered up at him and nodded slowly. Of course he hadn't.
"They were made for me in Orlais, though . . . they look different now. They used to be black, and by using them after my ritual had taken place, they tinted red. Apparently, after a while, they'll be red completely. The energy from my ritual – the fact that I am this – radiates when I fight, and can be expelled through my hands, and into the swords. It makes them stronger, so to speak. The left one is Splinter, and the right is Thorn; I refuse to use anything else." I offered a brief explanation, petting the pommel of one of them then chuckling.
"Do the names mean anything?" I heard Jory ask behind me.
"What do you think? Splinters and Thorns get stuck in your skin when you least expect it because you aren't paying attention – and they hurt like a bitch too."
"Is someone there?" I heard someone call, and I quickened my pace; I figured we could take time to talk about my long swords later.
We noticed a man, laying on his back and squirming, covered in blood. I hissed almost inaudibly – the scent of his blood shifted deliciously around my nose, filling my nostrils with the iron smell that I had been thirsting for. I shook my head, trying to dismiss it, but it was futile, as I couldn't cut off my ability to smell just by will alone. Alistair leaned down to the man, and I tried to distract myself from the smell with other thoughts: the Mabari hound, where the clan had moved to, every profanity that involved the Maker and Andraste. I was never spiritual, so I felt that taking the Maker's name in vain wouldn't do anything against me.
"What should we do?" I heard Alistair asked, and I looked up, blinking slowly.
"About what?" I asked, biting on my lower lip. Perhaps paying attention was a good and necessary thing.
"This man . . . he's near death." He whispered and my throat burned at the words, my tongue running over my lips at the thought of feeding. If I had been a weaker man I would have already drained him.
"Let me have him . . ." I spoke without realizing that I had, then I covered my mouth with my hand, realizing what I had said and what the reactions might be. But, I meant it, I wanted him, it would dull the thirst for a quite while.
Alistair seemed uneasy about the thought, and I didn't look towards the other two for their approval, I didn't care what they thought, until Daveth spoke that was. He was really growing on me, honestly. We were quite similar.
"I think you should let him, the man's probably going to die anyway." He shrugged, and I briefly looked towards Ser Jory who was shaking, and seemed to not be paying attention anyhow.
"Alright Lysias, go ahead . . ." Alistair murmured, and I almost, almost squealed.
I walked over to them man, leaning down, grabbing the man by the face, and with a swift movement, I broke his neck. The crack made Alistair wince; I managed to notice this from my peripheral, but, it was more merciful – some found the feeding painful – also, I didn't want him to scream. Even if he was near death, the weakest person could still scream at the top of their aching lungs if they willed themselves enough to do so. I learned that the hard way. I then leaned down, baring my fangs and inhaling the scent of his vein – it was fresh enough for my liking. I leaned closer, pushing his head away and I gently locked my mouth around his flesh and bit in, digging my teeth into the man's carotid artery. My mouth flooded with a taste of iron and my eyes closed, sucking harshly and perhaps loudly, as a heard a disgusted sound coming from one of the other men. I continued to drink regardless, feeling my body grow warmer and the blood circulate more rapidly. There was blood running out of my mouth, I took enough time to notice, though I did nothing about it. I placed my hand against the dead man's face, getting a better angle as I felt the blood come in less and less amounts, and within moments, all that I could get from the body, I had gotten. Sitting up, I glanced at the three men. Ser Jory had his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide and he looked positively sick. Alistair was looking away, and his hands were over his ears, which in my opinion was probably the best idea. And Daveth, didn't seem too bothered, and when I looked up he was actually just fixing his gloves. I wiped the blood that ran down my chin away then I stood, stretching my back and running my tongue slowly over my lips to remove any access blood. Though I couldn't see my lips, I knew that they were stained red as they were every time I fed.
"Mm, okay, let's keep walking, yes?" And without waiting for a response, I started walking again. They'd follow; turning around would be foolish as we didn't have everything.
They did follow after what I figured was a moment to get over what I had done, then we again saw darkspawn approaching. Again, my swords were removed from their sheaths and I ran forward, cutting and slashing through them with much thought. I heard the other men behind me, but with my energy, I didn't care much for coming up with a plan for this. I pivoted on my right foot and turned, kicking one of the darkspawn onto its stomach and I stabbed in through its chest. Alistair ran past me, knocking over a line of the creatures with his shield. I chuckled in delight, and directed my attention to another darkspawn, though when I went to cut into it's neck, it blocked me an axe, I growled, knocking the axe out of my way with the other long sword and I beheaded the creature. Blood spurted out of the creature's head like a fountain, and then it toppled backwards.
"Daveth and Jory, you two have to get the remaining vials, I did my deed already!" I returned my swords to where they belonged and watched as they got the vials from Alistair and filled them. I waited patiently for them and then sighed, looking around. Alistair most likely knew where the cache was, as I didn't.
I ran my tongue over my teeth, licking off the remainder of the blood. It felt nice to have real human blood circulating again, and the energy made me a bit more affective, and gave me an advantage when it came to dexterity. I hummed softly, watching as the other three men approached. When Alistair was next to me, I tapped his shoulder lightly, smearing some of the blood that coated his armor, though it didn't matter.
"You know where the cache is supposed to be, yes?" I asked and he nodded, looking forward, and he began to lead.
Following was less interesting this go around, especially since I was short and couldn't see over Alistair's shoulder. Complaining was pointless, as otherwise would have gotten—
Alistair had only walked straight pretty much, and into an old ruin. I pouted, and shook my head walking head of him and looking into the chest. I felt around, but there was only air and the bottom of the broken container.
"It's empty." I mumbled, and then I sighed, turning to walk away, but I saw someone coming towards us.
It was a woman, dressed in all black, though, in my opinion, scantily clothed. Her arms were crossed beneath her breasts, and she had a small grin etched on her painted lips. I tilted my head, not threatened, as we weren't getting attacked. There was no need to be hostile to something that mostly appeared friendly.
"Well, well, what have we here?" She asked, though it was rhetorical, walking slowly down the stone staircase attached to the ruins. I eyed her, curiously, eyes shifting slowly over her form. "Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger, poking amidst bones that were long since cleaned, or merely an intruder come into these darkspawn filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey?"
For a moment, she looked over us all, one by one, scanning us over with her eyes, I heard Ser Jory shiver under her gaze. I could have laughed, but I didn't, though I would try to remember to later.
"What say you, hmm: scavenger or intruder?"
"Neither, I'm here because I was told to be. Awful how these things work out." I shrugged my shoulder, eyes narrowing, though not threateningly. She chuckled.
"And why is that? Why are you here? I've wondered that since you've come into these Wilds. I have watched you, seen what you've done – things that I've honestly never seen before." The feeding, I thought to myself, though I didn't mention it.
"Don't answer her questions, she looks chasind and that may mean that others are near by—" Alistair, spoke, but what cut off by the woman.
"Ooh, and you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?" She chuckled again, and I irritably placed a hand to my hip, the other rubbing the side of my neck.
"Yes, swooping is bad . . . " I laughed at his words though then quickly turned my attention back to the woman.
"Who are you?" I asked, my tone even and clear, and curious over everything else. This woman was interesting.
"She's a Witch of the Wilds, she'll turns all into—" Daveth seemed worried, and I rose a brow. He wasn't afraid of darkspawn, but he was afraid of what could possibly be a witch? Brilliant.
"Witch of the Wilds? I've heard much of these legends; though have you no minds of your own to believe what you wish of these things?" She turned to me. "You, elves are not frightened by foolish legends and fantasies; what is your name?"
"Lysias," I rose a brow, a small smile etched on my lips, "a pleasure to meet you."
Which it was, this was the nicest encounter I had had as of recent. She blinked slowly, her grin returning again.
"Politeness comes from strange places. You can call me Morrigan, if you wish." I nodded, "You came here, for something in that chest, something that is here no longer-?"
"Here no longer? You stole them, didn't you?" Alistair accused from somewhere behind me.
"How does one steal from dead men?" I bit down on my lip at her words, trying not to grin at the truth in them.
"Quiet easily, it seems. I suggest you return the documents. They belonged to the Grey Wardens." Alistair replied, and I sighed lightly. I hadn't come out for all of this though. The other three seemed so anxious, and in my opinion, for no reason.
"I will not, for it was not I that removed them." She spoke up and I placed both of my hands to my sides.
"Who has them then?" I asked, and her attention returned to me.
"My mother, and if you wish to get the documents back, then I suggest you follow me." She turned and started walking, and I shrugged, not caring much other way, but Alistair spoke up before I took a step.
"I don't like this; her appearance seems too . . . convenient." He sighed lightly and I smiled.
"As did mine, if you think of it that way; come on Alistair, I'll protect you from the big bad Witch of the Wilds." I started walking, and I heard of grumble of irritation from Alistair, but he said nothing else.
We approached a small hut, an elderly looking woman standing outside, her arms crossed and her eyes focused straight ahead of herself, but there was nothing really there. It wasn't until Morrigan spoke up that she turned.
"Greetings, Mother, I bring before you four Grey Wardens who—"
"I'd like to correct you: one Grey Warden, and three recruits." I smiled, and Morrigan scowled at me.
"I see them," the older woman spoke, and mumbled something about expecting us. Her eyes rested on me for a long moment, and I stared back, my eyes narrowing a bit.
"You expect us to believe you were expecting us?"
"You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut ones eyes tight or hold ones arms wide, either way – one's a fool . . ."
"What if they do both at once; does that make them more foolish, or are they smarter for walking into something – knowing that what they do is stupid and closing there eyes so that they don't have to see what's coming?" I asked, and the woman eyed me again, and then chuckled.
"Interesting thought." Was her response, though she said nothing more on it. "Given how you took apart my words, what does your elven mind tell you of me, of this situation that you've walked into? Would you shut your eyes, elf?"
"My elven mind says that I have to accept that I'm standing here, safe, or so it seems, but in a situation that I hadn't expected."
She chuckled, and Morrigan crossed her arms over her chest. I glanced over at her for a moment, then back to the older woman.
"They didn't come here for such questions, Mother." Morrigan sighed, and again the woman laughed.
"Yes, they came for their treaties, and before you begin barking, your seal wore off long ago . . . I have protected these—"
"You protected them?" Alistair asked, seeming surprised and I turned to him, a bit curious, but I said nothing.
"And why not? Take these back to your Grey Wardens and tell them that this Blight's threat is greater than they realize."
"Thank you, for keeping them safe and all," I turned and started to walk.
"Morrigan, don't be rude . . . these are your guests."
I turned, and paused for a moment and Morrigan sighed, and started following behind us.
"Fine, I will show you out of the Wilds. Follow me,"
I managed to ignore Daveth's and Jory's arguments, rocking back and forth on my boots, sighing loudly in an attempt to quiet them – it didn't help. I'd let them argue through it, for a little longer. I had taken the flower to the man treating the mabari, and was told to come back after the battle, which I promised that I would.
"You seem a little more . . . peppy now that you've fed." Alistair seemed unsure of his words. I chuckled and smiled faintly.
"Peppy? Hmm, I suppose. It gives me more energy. The less blood I have the weaker I am . . . until—yeah, I'm peppy, very peppy." I averted my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest as I waited. Peppy was a nice word.
Alistair laughed and I smiled at him, glancing over at the other two men, still arguing away. They were starting to become harder and harder to ignore. I scowled, hissing softly, and Alistair glanced at me again.
"Why do you hiss and growl? Do all Dalish do that, or is it because of your ritual? He asked, and I again smile at him. He was a good distraction, though he seemed foolish sometimes.
"Some Dalish hiss, I suppose; I've done it since before the ritual. Growling hasn't started until after though." I shrugged my lanky shoulders, looking away. Daveth and Jory had finally stopped talking.
"At last we come to the Joining . . ." Duncan walked past us, and up to the stone table, the Grey Wardens were founded during the First Blight when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation; so it was that the first Grey Warden's drank of darkspawn blood, and mastered their taint."
I gasped, and at this point realized that I could have drank the blood from the darkspawn back at the camp. Damn. Too late to go back now; at this point the clan had most definitely moved on.
"W-we're going to drink the blood of those creatures? Seeing Lysias drink was enough for me . . ." Jory shook, seeing worried, and I tilted my head.
"You didn't have to watch, Ser Jory." I stated, not seeing why he didn't simply disregard my actions or do what Alistair did. Perhaps he wasn't used to it. No, obviously he wasn't, though neither were the other two.
"As the first Grey Warden's did before us, as we did before you; this is the source of our power and our victory." I hummed to my self, chewing on my lower lip.
"Those who survive the joining become immune to the taint; we can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the archdemon." Alistair spoke up, and I glanced back at him.
"I can already sense the darkspawn though." I spoke up, a brow arched. I wasn't bothered by this in the slightest. I drank blood constantly, this couldn't be too different, or so I hoped.
"I suspect this has something do with that you are. The taint affected it." Duncan replied, and I nodded.
I crossed my arms, thinking over what he had said, ignoring what they were saying at this point; I had gotten all of the information I needed. If the taint affected too much, I would have noticed at this point because I was near breaking point. My eyes narrowed and my thoughts caused my tattoos to glow faintly. The taint couldn't have done damage – it was going to kill me if I didn't become a Warden, I understood that.
"Lysias, we're ready to start." Alistair brought me out of my thoughts and I nodded.
Daveth went first, and I took a step back and to the side, to see well. He was handed a chalice, presumably filled with the blood and he lifted it to his mouth and drank. For a moment, he looked perfectly fine, but then he staggered, clutching at his throat as a scream was pulled from his throat. I took a step back, but Alistair placed a hand behind my back to keep me from going far. The other rogue dropped to his knees gasping and grunting, he was dying, I realized, and bit at my lip, surprised that it wasn't bleeding at this point from all the chewing. Within moments, he was limp against the ground, pliant, and I sighed.
"Damn, and I actually liked him too. Guess things work out that way." I shrugged my shoulders and exhaled a deep breath. Being pessimistic wouldn't help.
Jory was next, but instead of stepping forward to receive the chalice, he stepped backwards, unsheathing his sword. I blinked slowly, shaking my head as I leaned down to examine Daveth's body. Poor guy, but I didn't care completely for him so I was only the slightest bit saddened about it.
"N-no, you ask too much! Had I known, I would have never-!"
I looked up watching the situation and I stood up straight, walking back over to where Alistair was standing. Before I was able to fully blink, Duncan had pulled out a dagger and had plunged it into Jory's abdomen. He gasped, hunching then, and when the dagger was pulled out, he collapsed to the ground.
"By the Maker's breath . . ." I whispered, blinking slowly. I didn't expect him to need to be killed – I didn't even think Jory had the taint.
Duncan approached me, handing me the chalice, and before I brought it to my lips, I looked at the dead bodies; Daveth and Jory. My heart felt as thought it would beat out of my chest, my mouth cottonish, and my thin legs quivering. I shook my head, raising the chalice to my lips, and letting the liquid run down my throat with quick swallows. It burned my throat, much more that the feeling of not feeding and my eyes watered at the feeling. I passed the chalice back.
My head swam and I felt dizzy, staggering and shifting as if I was in water – I couldn't swim well, honestly. The burning in my throat subsided, but my vision was obscured by darkness, then the image of a large dragon, covered in what looked like spikes instead of scales. Its eyes seemed to be focusing on my own, though I was not there to be seeing it. I was hallucinating; I figured that I had to be. It screeched, as if bothered by my presence, and when the image finally left me, I toppled over, meeting the ground and going unconscious.
It was dark in my dreams, and I was resting against something soft, and comfy, though bony, as if it were a person. I couldn't move, once again, and though I was staring into nothing but darkness, I knew my eyes were open in this dream because I could feel myself blinking. There was a cooing in my ear, soft, wordless, but comforting, and I felt a hand creep around my shoulder, even though it was going over armor.
"Who's there?" I felt glad that this time I could speak in my dream. Who was to say speaking would be helpful, however?
"Shh . . ." I heard the whisper, it was feminine, but had a masculine undertone.
It didn't take me too long to realize what was happening, but again I couldn't move, so I couldn't move away. I had to remain calm. Desire demons took over more than anything else, as I had more desires than anything else, but it, for the most part and in the recent partial possessions, it had been one specific demon.
"Why are you here? I'm not injured; I just fed. What do you want?" I grew irritated and I was pulled to standing, and turned to face the demon, the pinkish skin of her hand caressing my cheek, her eyes looking deep into mine, focusing, but it didn't bother me, and I didn't falter. I was used to her game. Her name was Euphoria, or Rapture, depending on the situation, and she was the demon that usually came to plague me. She claimed that she wanted to take care of me and make me happy, though that was what all demons claimed.
"You've been through so much, my dear," she whispered, her voice dancing about my senses, "you didn't want it, did you? I was so close to saving you, but you didn't let me. You fed on that man in the Wilds." She feigned sadness, placing the back of her hand to her own cheek and her eyes averted from my own.
"I have, but you aren't doing anything about it. You can't bring Tamlen back, you can't put me back in the clan—"
"And now do you know this, Lysias?" She seemed bothered by my words, though I knew she wasn't.
"You couldn't take me away from Alosio after the ritual the first time we met, why should I expect you to help me now." I managed to move my arm, and I took her hand from my face, lowering it to her side. Her skin was cold, yet extremely soft, almost to where I wanted to hold her hand just to stroke it with my fingers.
"You were newly transformed then," she smiled, or so it seemed, at me, "and now I could have enough power from you to do what ever you wish."
"No, Euphoria. I'll get through this own my own, alright. I don't need demonic help – I'm not even a mage. Every time you take over something bad happens." I turned away from her, and she followed, so that we still made eye contact.
"But you are still aware when it all happened, they were your own actions, I just helped you get closer to your desires." She smirked, leaning over to place a kiss again my cheek. I pulled away, disgusted by the feel of her frosted lips.
"In the worse way possible," I added, and her eyes narrowed at me, though I wasn't bothered by it much. "Was it you that brought me from the cave, Euphoria?"
There was a glint in her eyes and she circled around me, letting her hand wander about my shoulders and she moved, though her hand felt perverse though my armor, as if she wanted to remove it. She was silent for a while, just circling, looking me over, and then she stopped behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist.
"Yes my pet, I couldn't let you die in there, now could I?" I wanted to reply that she technically could have, but I stayed silent about that as the words weren't needed.
"Thank you . . ." I whispered, and she laughed. I was bothered, feeling her breasts against my back, but again, I said nothing about it.
"Don't thank me; I did it for my own purposes and you know that. You're going to wake up soon," she released me and started to step away, but then stopped and turned to glance at me again, "you know I'll be back, yes?
I nodded, a frown spreading on my lips as she vanished, I turned my head away and sighed. I didn't trust her, I couldn't if I wanted to, but there was something comforting about Euphoria that I couldn't help but admit.
Author's Note:
Spelling, grammar, blah blah blah.
I always notice my mistakes after I post it.
Oh well. :)