So, not sure if I've mentioned this in the last chapter, but the spirits in the swords are Jack of Blades in the Sword of Aeons, and The Hero of Oakvale in Avo's Tear. And when they're speaking, Jack's speech is highlighted in bold, and Oakvale's speech is in italics. And they are both privy to every thought in Sparrow's head both past and present.
I mainly got this idea from Fable, where your mentor would have a way of communicating with you telepathically. So I thought, here we go. Oh, and I know that you're all thinking I'm just gonna hate on Jack of Blades and side with Oakvale all the time because he's a good guy, allow me to remind you of one thing.
Grey Warden. Not White Knight.
Snowhelm: I love you so, so very much
: My thoughts exactly :S
Chapter 9: A Chance Encounter
It's nice to be in Denerim I suppose, especially seeing as how this time I'm not supposed to be executed. I take a great breath of air and smile.
Duncan left me alone in the marketplace, saying that he had to tell Cailan about the Crawler. There's nothing they can do to stop it, but I told him to make sure that no-one enters that cursed mine. We oth agreed that the King may not respond well with myself being there, going by our previous meeting and agreed to meet up later.
It really says a lot about the trust Duncan has in me now that I'm allowed out unescorted. I really think I've grown on him.
"Oh, do shut up," Jack moans at the back of my head.
Duncan even let me keep my guardian assholes.
Good morning grumpy pants. Someone get up on the wrong side of the sheath? I grin as I pass a stall, grabbing an apple and thanking the merchant as I pass him the money.
"I must apologise for my companion Sparrow, he suffers from boredom easily. And his idea of fun is a tad more visceral than suits either of our tastes." Oakvale murmurs apologetically.
"Wow, the caves must have been a true hell for him," I say aloud, though quietly with a small smile. There's something about talking to the voices in my head, IN MY HEAD, a little off-putting.
"Indeed," both voices echo. I grin, taking a bite from my apple. As I think about it, it's a fresh experience being a part of the hustle and bustle of the city. I only lived in a small town for most of my life, with occasional trips to a slightly larger town. When I was with Isabella it was just the same faces over and over, and I've been with Duncan for what, 4 months now?
Christ, almost 10 months in Thedas…
Seeing a slight movement out of the corner of my eye, I turn to see a skinny child in rags. I'm taken aback as I notice his ears. He's an Elf!
Oh my god, my first elf. Oh I'm going to enjoy this.
That actually sounds a bit dodgy.
"A tad…" Oakvale agrees uneasily. The child looks at the apple hungrily, and when he notices me watching he begins to shy away.
"You hungry wee man?" I ask, holding the apple out towards him. He takes a step back, and I notice how loose those rags are on his skinny frame. He definitely hasn't had a good meal for a while.
I throw the apple at him and he catches it swiftly. He looks at me suspiciously before devouring the apple.
"An apple a day keeps the doctor away," I mutter as he finishes the apple on his third bite, seeds and all. "What's your name kid?"
"Darrien," he growls, between licking his lips of apple juice. Strange, I thought the elves had an Irish or Welsh accent. Or was that just the Dalish? He looks at me and I'm vaguely reminded of the stray cat that would hang around near my house, waiting for food.
"Still hungry Darrien?" I ask, gesturing at the market. His eyes immediately fall on the butcher's stall. Then he looks at me and his eyes harden. He shakes his head. I sigh and sit against the wall. "You got family buddy? Mum? Dad? Brother's or sisters?"
"What are you doing fool?" Jack demands angrily.
Quiet.
I gesture Darrien to come closer. He takes a small step and crouches down, still a few feet away. "Mam," he says.
"You're not much of a talker are you?" I ask with a smile. "What does your mum do?" I see Darrien's eyes harden and his lips tighten. Must not be the best of jobs. "You don't have to answer mate. How old are you?"
Darrien glares at me. Something tells me his mum's job is a sore point. "Thirteen."
Wow, he really is a kid. Mind you, I'm only a few years older. But something tells me there's a bit of an experience difference.
"Wait here a minute," I say, getting to my feet. "Don't move."
I walk across the market and stop in front of the butcher stall. The butcher in question, a rather large man with a huge round belly and a bald head, is sharpening a large carving knife. He nods to me before setting them to the side. "What can I do for you today serah?" he asks with a jovial smile.
"Hello, I've just been browsing through when I saw that hog there and I thought to myself, that would make a lovely addition to my dinner tonight. How much for the pig?" I ask, grabbing my coin purse and leaning forward.
"50 sovereigns," He says crossing his arms.
And here comes the part that I love.
"10 sovereigns," I counter, keeping my smirk under control. The butcher takes a theatrical step back and gasps.
"10 sovereigns? For this prime specimen. I'll have you know he was my prize pig, sir. 40." he says, only partially angry.
"A prize pig?" I laugh before leaning forward. "I've seen more meat on a potato. 20."
"Messere, you wound me. This animal was my most prized possession. He was my pride and joy, a friend. Almost a part of the family. To part with him for anything less for 30 would be a dishonour on his memory."
I smile, he's got the gift of the gab. But he's never met me. "And how many other members of your family do you hang from the rafters," I say with a laugh, gesturing towards the pig in question which is hanging from the ceiling of his stall. "I can't, in good conscience, go over 25 gold sovereigns, for this 'prime specimen' of yours."
We stare each other down, waiting for the other to blink. After a few moments, the butcher smiles. "You've got a gift of the silver tongue lad," he says as he cuts down the pig. I count out the money and place on his side of the stall, before the butcher places the pig on my shoulder. I adjust it for comfort, then smile.
"Cheers mate, take care now," I say as I wave with my other hand. I head back towards the bridge where I see Darrien waiting. When he sees the hog over my shoulder, his jaw drops. "So, we heading to yours?"
Darrien bounces through his door, brimming with excitement. "Mam, Mam, Look what I've got."
I chuckle as I walk into the house, and my smile quickly dies.
To call it a house is an over exaggeration. If anything, it reminds me of Gamlin's shack in Dragon age 2. Or a large shed. There's one bed in the corner, with a small bucket close by. There's a small table, with two rickety chairs and a small stove fire next to them. And that's it.
"Mam, wake up," Darrien says, shaking the sleeping elf on the bed. She bolts upright, fear in her eyes as she looks at Darrien. Then she looks at me and her eyes narrow dangerously.
"Shemlen," she growls, coming up from the bed with a knife.
"Andaran atish'an," I say, raising my free hand and thanking all things holy that I'm such a geek and read up on the elvish language. She halts for a seconds, confused with the circumstances of a shemlen in her house speaking elvish with a pig over his shoulder. "This is very easily explained."
There's a pause.
"Darrien, what's going on," she asks.
"Well this man..." Darrien begins, then fumbles. I realise I never told him my name.
"Sparrow," I nod encouragingly, drawing a glare from the mother.
"Sparrow saw me in the market and thought he'd..." Darrien scratches his neck, looking awkward.
"Buy dinner. No offence elvhen, but you both look like you could use a good meal in you. So I just thought that I'd... buy dinner," I finish pathetically.
"We don't need your charity, shemlen," she growls angrily. I sigh in frustration.
"Are you going to let yourself and your child starve on pride?" I ask, placing the hog on the table. It lands with a thump, and for a second I think that the table will break. Looking over my shoulder I see her looking at the pig longingly. "Where I come from, people try to help each other as much as they can. You need some change for the bus? Hey, there ya go. You need a lift into town? No bother mate, I'm heading there anyway. This is who I am and what I do. There's no ulterior motive. I just don't want you to go hungry."
I move towards the door and stop as I open it. "No one has life harder in this world than the elves of the alienage. All I wanted to do was ease the stomach pains of a young boy. I hope you enjoy."
"Wait," the woman says. I turn, looking over my shoulder. "You speak strangely, Serah Sparrow. I thank you for what you have done. Know that you will always be a friend to the Tabris'." She nods her head and misses my look of utter shock.
Tabris is the name of the City Elf.
"It's no trouble ma'am, you have a good night," I say shakily, my mind reeling as I stare at Darrien. I just met an 's... Coincidence? No way, of all the elves in all the city, I meet the only one that has some significance to me.
With that, I sweep out of the door and quickly march through the Alienage back on the way to the market. As I cross the bridge, I come to a stop and breathe heavily, staring into the river. All I want to do is help, that's what I've always done.
When my brother needed driven to the hospital, I nearly got pulled over for speeding getting him there.
When my mum needed to go to the shops, I got the list of her and shot off, remembering to pick up her meds.
When my sister needed some money for the bus, I went to the bank so she could visit her friends.
My whole life, I've been trying to help people, make life a little easier. That's just who I am... But things are different now, I'm different.
The bandit lunges towards me with a roar and I sweep his blade to the side with my own. In the back of my mind, I feel Oakvale and Jack roaring encouragement and advice. A few feet away, Duncan is duelling with two others.
The bandit to my front moves with the blade, grabbing it two handed and trying to slice me in two. I step back to avoid it and then thrust forward.
The bandit drops his sword. His eyes look puzzled and he looks down, my eyes following. My sword is sticking through his chest. He looks up, blood and spittle dripping from his mouth.
"You?" he asks in shock as his legs go dead.
"I'm sorry," I whisper as I pull the sword out. With nothing to support him, the bandit falls on his side, his grey eyes watching me as he falls. "I'm so, so sorry."
The bandit grins and then his face slackens. His chest deflates. His eyes go dead.
I drop my sword in shock and take a step back, stumbling slightly. I killed him. I just killed him.
When the hell am I gonna stop? How many more lives-.
Ahead, I head Duncan grunts in pain. He stumbles back, a hand going up to his nose as the bandit tries to take the advantage.
In response, fire leaps into my hand and I leap to my feet. But I hesitate.
I don't want to kill him. I don't want to kill anybody.
"Sparrow, I know it's hard but if you don't stop him then Duncan dies," Oakvale cries desperately.
"Fool, kill them both and then we can be free from his shackles," Jack counters.
Great, the voices on my head want me to kill. What a great sign.
Oakvale's right through. It's the only way to save Duncan. Take a life, save a life...
The fire leaps from my palm and engulfs the bandit. He screams for a moment before falling to ground, quickly becoming ash. As the mana drain hits me I fall to the ground, vision blackening at the edges, panting lightly. I go to lie on my back, but find there's a tree behind me that I lean against instead.
The ground crunches as Duncan takes a place next to me. We both just sit there for a few minutes.
"What happened on the ship?" Duncan asks out of the blue. I'm not in the mood to deflect the question or lie.
"It was my idea to make a flour bomb," I say tiredly, not entirely lucid. From what I read of the WIll manuscript, I'm using a spell that's too powerful for my power level. It's like, I'm using a level 4 spell, while I'm still level 1. I need to tone it down a bit, it's taking a lot out of me. I continue, "Just like it was my idea we sail into that ambush. When I got into the hold, there was a guard. I didn't mean to kill him. That was the first time my fire powers manifested. I was filled with this... arrogance, megalomania... whatever you wanna call it. I was unstoppable, Death Incarnate. Then I stepped in a bear trap," I pull up my trouser leg to show him the scar. He winces in sympathy pain. "And then... I just stopped caring. I pulled it off - which was exceedingly painful I don't mind telling you - and the next guy that came at me I pushed it into his face. Then I blew up the ship. I didn't want to kill anyone it just sorta... happened."
Duncan stays quiet. "Why did you become a pirate? You must've known you'd have to kill eventually."
I turn my head away. It's not like I could tell him the truth. At least not all of it. "I was scared. I was in a strange place that I had no right to be in. I just... latched onto something familiar, just like I did with you. This world," I say, gesturing towards the bodies around us, and the world in general. "This is completely different to mine."
"Then why are you here? Why don't you go home?" Duncan's tone isn't accusing, just curious. I turn to him with a sad smile.
"When I know, I'll be sure to tell you."
I'm a killer. When I played games, death wasn't important. It was just pixels. Even a character death, I'd just reload. But now, killing is a very different concept.
My mind keeps drawing back to what Duncan said before the mine, about the darkness within. I know that sometimes killing is necessary but... It's hard. It's not like I've killed before coming here.
Hell, I hadn't even been in a fight since I was fourteen!
So yeah, I'll buy a family dinner for a week or so. I'll throw an apple towards a hungry kid. Maybe that'll balance my karma at the end of this dark road.
Because that's how I'm gonna justify what I'm doing. Yeah, I'm gonna try to stop the Blight from happening. And if that fails, I'm going to end it. I'm gonna try and save this world... And maybe it might help me sleep at night.
Until then, I've got to keep going, fighting the good fight.
"That's a very wise philosophy," Oakvale murmurs approvingly.
"And idiotic. Why should you care for this world, or it's people. They are not your own. You should take it!" Jack commands. I smile as I start moving off back towards the market.
That's your opinion, and I have mine. You don't sleep Jack, and when I've got to, I'd rather not have as many nightmares as I've been having.
Later on in the day, Duncan finds me chatting idly with a merchant. The man, Cesar, is an Antivan merchant that I know from in-game experience has connections with the Crows.
"Ah, Duncan. You finished your business then?" Duncan nods and I push away from the stall. "I guess we'll have to continue this discussion later Senor."
"Si, si," Cesar says with a smile. As I turn, my own smile drops and I motion for Duncan to lead.
"What were you talking about?" He asks as we cross the market.
"We were haggling over a crossbow," I say with a satisfied smirk. "I'd got him down to seven silver pieces."
Duncan looks at me with a raised brow. "You've handled a crossbow before?" he asks in surprise.
I think back to my only experience with my cousins air rifle. "Something similar," I say, avoiding his eyes as I smirk. Something about shooting cans when you were fifteen was just so... cool. "But I have an idea for one that I don't want to discuss with him!"
"So where are we heading?" I ask as the sun begins to set. I realise that I'm actually quite tired.
"I've got some rooms for us in the barracks," Duncan says as we turn a corner.
"Barracks?" I ask.
"The Grey Wardens barracks," he says slowly.
"Oh," I say quietly. "I never knew we had any barracks in the city."
"It's small, but we're looking to expand," He says as we come into sight of a small building. The only thing that sets it apart from the others is the banners on the front, a griffin rampant, the Grey Warden's heraldry. "Before the Warden's were expelled from Ferelden for participating in a rebellion, we had a fortress at Soldiers Peak."
My lash my hand out to stop Duncan. "Yeah, I'd recommend leaving that for a bit," I say with a wince. He looks at me questioningly and I just shake my head.
We walk to the door and Duncan walks in. I look behind us, looking along the street. It's empty. Something sets the hairs on my neck on edge.
"Sparrow," Duncan calls. I turn to nod at him, then glance back down the street. Warily, I close the door. Something was definitely out there...
"Be on your guard," Oakvale warns softly.
I follow Duncan down the corridor and into a side door. I hear a chorus of "Commander" as we enter.
"Sparrow, these are your fellow Grey Wardens." He sweeps an arm to gesture the room, where half a dozen men and women sit.
Two men are playing cards at the table, while a dwarf and an elf sit by the fire. A woman sits in the corner reading a book, only giving me a sparing glance. Another elf, this one a female, sits on the window, a small knife twirling in her hands.
"While we stay here, they will aid in teaching you our ways and improve your skills." Wait, how long are we staying? I repeat the question to Duncan and he smiles. "You've obviously never felt a Ferelden winter."
"Get's awfully cold mate," Says the dwarf close to the fire.
"We'll be staying here until the thaw," Duncan says and moves to leave the room. I grab his arm and look into his eyes.
"The longer we wait, the further our quarry escapes us," I warn in a low voice. So far, visiting Flemeth seems like the best way to understand how I came to this place and, more importantly, how I can get out. And if we can find the Architect, all the better.
Duncan glares at me dangerously and I let go of him. He glances up at the other Wardens, who are looking inquisitive. He leans forward and whispers in my ear. "You said we have four years. That's plenty of time. Besides, untrained as you are, you're more a liability than any help. And the Wilds are not the place for a boy who can't tell the difference between his sword and his prick."
With those harsh words, Duncan leaves the room. Silently fuming, I turn to my fellow Wardens who examine me, making my face turn red from embarrassment. "Hello," I say brightly, shoving my hands into my pockets.
"You are utterly pathetic," Jack grumbles in the back of my mind, taking another chunk of my self confidence with him.
A/N: So, we've finally met the rest of the gang, but more on them later...
And what? Darrien, the starving elf child, will grow up to be the City Elf, a possible Warden candidate? How will Sparrow react when it comes to preparing for Ostagar...
And what exactly does he mean, new idea for a crossbow? That's not exceptionally important to the plot, I just like being dramatic.
To find out the answers to these questions and more tune in next time...
Translation: "Andaran atish'an" - I dwell in this place of peace, an elven greeting.