22. The First Quest

Marnan walked Jory through the motion again. "It is a downward cleave, Ser Jory. Of course your body is exposed for the duration of the swing. The point is that when it connects, any vulnerability on your part does not matter."

Jory shook his head, glancing around as if for help, first at Duncan, then at Felicity. Felicity watched with the curiosity that was characteristic of her, absorbing the technique even though the mage would likely never use it herself. Duncan, however, merely watched with the impassive expression of a casual observer.

"It… it just doesn't seem like a safe maneuver. It can't be good for your shoulder joints."

Marnan rolled her eyes in exasperation. She respected Ser Jory well enough, but the man was far too cautious. He'd obviously never had to fight tooth and nail for the right to exist as the dwarves did. "Neither is being devoured by darkspawn. And that is what will happen if you do not use everything you have to defeat them. Any given half-hearted swing is not going to tear through an ogre's hide. This…" she demonstrated the cleave again. "…is. And that, I can say with the confidence of experience."

"You've fought an ogre?" Felicity said with some surprise from her seat beside Duncan.

"And killed it." She looked pointedly at Ser Jory. "With a downward cleave."

Ser Jory sighed and sat down on a log across the fire from Duncan and Felicity. "I'm sorry. Yes, I suppose it's a fair enough maneuver, but it's just not my usual style." He dug the tip of his greatsword into the dirt and leaned on it. "I'll see if I can't find an opportunity to give it a try on the field, though."

There was a brief silence. Then, as was customary for her, Felicity broke it with an unintentionally intrusive question. "When did you fight an ogre?" When Marnan did not immediately reply, the mage forged on. "It's just, I understand that they're only seen during Blights. Or, at least, that's what some sources say. So it must have been recently. Unless the sources are wrong… which wouldn't be surprising, since the Tower never kept many dwarven accounts. Are there ogres in the Deep Roads between Blights? There must be, or they'd die out between Blights, I suppose. Do-"

"Felicity," Marnan said firmly. "Enough."

The mage's mouth snapped shut, and she had the grace to look embarrassed. "I did it again, didn't I? I apologize."

Marnan nodded and was glad to have the subject dropped. While it was true that she made ample use of her fighting experience here, she did not like to go into the specific details of her battles… not in front of people who didn't know who she was—or rather, who she had been. Because if she told them the specifics—like her height in the command structure—then they were bound to guess at least part of it.

Marnan preferred to stay a nobody here. Here, she was just a warrior with a decent amount of field experience. No expectations based on caste, or upbringing, or who she was related to. The only ones who knew the truth were the handful of Grey Wardens from the Deep Roads and Garott Brosca. The Wardens had tacitly agreed to keep her identity secret.

Brosca, on the other hand, seemed to be hoarding her secret, waiting for the correct moment to use it to his advantage. She would have to be careful not to give him the opportunity. It was a dance that she'd learned well, growing up a noble in Orzammar… though apparently not well enough to avoid that single dagger in the back that had removed her from Orzammar in the first place.

And there was the duster now, appearing when summoned like a bad omen. He had Kazar and the new recruits with him, though she noted that Alistair was nowhere to be seen.

Alistair had brought the recruits by twenty minutes ago while Marnan and Jory had been with the soldiers, the former laying out effective techniques for killing darkspawn without getting infected. The blond Warden had pulled the two recruits aside and introduced the new trio, then told them to meet at Duncan's tent in the center of camp.

The new elf, Finian, seemed friendly enough, and Daveth was rather honest for a thief, if a bit too candid for his own good. Percival made her curious, however. The young man bore a crest on his shield, spotted only as the group was walking away. When they had seen it, Ser Jory had pointed out that it was the crest of Highever, and explained that that was one of the noble holdings of Ferelden. Ser Jory had then commented that the man's gear didn't match the usual design of a common Highever soldier, and that custom gear meant the man was likely a knight that served the nobility directly... or a noble himself.

Marnan wondered which he was: knight or noble. Curiously, she couldn't seem to detect any indicators either way.

"I heard there's a party here," the casteless said smoothly, coming to a stop at Jory's shoulder and leaning against it. "But you all look stone sober. Looks like I was lied to again."

Duncan smiled. "Hello again, Garott. Good to see you well."

"Same to you, boss."

"And you as well, Kazar," the Warden-Commander greeted as the elf in question sat on the bench next to Jory. "I must admit, I was rather surprised to return to Ostagar and find that your casualty list only consisted of some practice equipment and a crate."

Kazar merely breathed an agitated sigh through his nose and glared at the fire.

"But where are Alistair and Meila? I had assumed she would be coming back with you."

Marnan saw Felicity open her mouth, no doubt to tell Duncan all about just where Meila likely was… and was not.

"Here, Duncan!" Alistair's voice called before the mage could speak.

Marnan was not the only one to be surprised at seeing Meila trotting dutifully at the junior Warden's heels. Jory startled and did a double-take, and Felicity's jaw dropped so low that it may as well have been dragging on the ground.

Marnan, however, did a double-take for a different reason than Jory. The Dalish elf looked… pale. A great deal paler than she had been a couple days before. And had she lost weight in the intervening time as well? Marnan's eyes narrowed as alarm bells tolled in her head.

"Ah, good." Duncan nodded a greeting to the late arrivals and stood. "Now that we are all here, we may begin." He turned a stern eye to Alistair. "Assuming, of course, that you're quite finished riling up the mages, Alistair?"

This evoked a sharp laugh from the elven mage across the fire.

"What can I say?" Alistair said with a bashful smile. "The Holy Mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt, they should stick her in the army."

Marnan chuckled at that one.

"She forced you to sass the mage, did she? We cannot afford to antagonize anyone, Alistair. We don't need to give anyone more ammunition against us."

Alistair sighed. "You're right, Duncan. I… apologize." It was said with all the sincerity of a child scolded for stealing cookies. Marnan wasn't the only one to smirk at Alistair. Even not knowing the context of the younger Warden's slip, she could well imagine what sort of trouble he'd been pressed into. She had fought alongside Houses who were secretly warring with one another at the same time they were battling the darkspawn… she could well imagine that similar politics arose on the surface as well.

"Now, then, let us not waste any more time," Duncan said, unspoken apology in his voice. "You will all be headed into the Korcari Wilds to perform two tasks. First, each of you must obtain a vial of darkspawn blood."

"Darkspawn blood?" Felicity repeated, eyes wide. "Why would we need darkspawn blood?"

The duster snorted a laugh. "Probably for this ritual that's so secret. Right, boss?"

"Yes, that is correct. Though I can't say more about it yet."

"But…" Felicity clenched her fists. "But isn't that dangerously close to blood magic?"

"Why, because it has blood in it?" Kazar snapped. "Unless you decide to stab yourself and pull magic from your own body, no. It's not blood magic."

"That still skirts dangerously close, though. The Tevinter Imperium was fond of blood magic, and it was they that released the darkspawn into the world in the first place."

"Propaganda!"

"Enough, both of you," Duncan said. "If you are having second thoughts, Felicity, I beg you to speak up now, because there will be no turning back later."

Felicity lowered her eyes and shook her head. "No, Duncan. I was merely… concerned."

"I know." He raised his voice to address the rest of them. "That warning carries to the rest of you. Becoming a Grey Warden is not a decision to be taken lightly, and is not one you can undo. If you are having doubts, speak up now. You may not get the chance later."

Everything was silent but for the crackling of the fire and the barking of the dogs in their kennels. Then, the one called Daveth chuckled quietly. "Well, I wager that's your answer right there, isn't it?"

"What is the second task?" Marnan asked.

Duncan nodded, a brief, proud smile flickering over his features. "There was once a Grey Warden archive in the Wilds, abandoned long ago. It has recently come to our attention that some scrolls have been left behind. Alistair, I want you to retrieve these scrolls if you can."

"I think I have seen such a building," said Meila. She stood on the edge of the circle, setting herself apart from the group. "It is overgrown and given to the wilderness, but there are still some stores of information inside."

"I do not doubt it. You, Meila, can lead them to the archive."

Meila nodded dutifully, but Marnan protested. "Is that wise?"

The Dalish elf turned a stony glare down at her. "You object to an elf leading you, durgen'len?"

Marnan was insulted by the implication, but she let it slide for more important matters. "No, I object to someone who is ill leading us." Marnan turned to Duncan. "Perhaps it would be best if she stay here, in camp. We can retrieve a vial of blood for her."

Daveth scratched his stubble. "I'd assumed that killing the darkspawn was also part of the test."

"In that, Daveth," Duncan said, "you are correct. I apologize, Marnan, if you find this disconcerting-"

"Not disconcerting. Unwise. A military force must be strong, with all members in the best shape possible, because it only takes one weak arm to break the line. This woman is ill. That means she will not be performing at her best."

"Do not speak of me as if I am not here, durgen'len."

"Do you disagree?" At some point, Marnan had risen to her feet. The effect was perhaps less effective here, among the physically taller topsiders, but it got her point across all the same. "You are much paler than three days ago, and I suspect that you are trembling, even now. You are strong, elf… far stronger than most warriors I've known to go through this. But to me, it is obvious that you are finally succumbing to the Taint."

At last, Meila showed an emotion other than cold disdain when her eyes widened in surprise. Then, she turned her stony glare to Alistair. "You told."

"In my defense, I never actually said the word 'Taint'," Alistair said weakly. "I just said you couldn't be healed with magic, and the senior enchanter drew her own conclusions. They… just happened to be the correct ones."

"Marnan, right?" a soft voice said, and the dwarf saw that the elf, Finian, stood at her elbow. "The rest of us are hardly defenseless… maybe this can be considered another part of the test. You know, working as a team, so that even the weakest of us succeeds."

Meila's hard look shifted to him. "Are you calling me weak, flat-ear?"

The casteless one laughed. "Easy, elf. He's on your side."

Marnan considered that for a moment, because she supposed it was a bit more tolerable if she thought of it like that. She sighed, because this was a battle she wasn't likely to win. She knew when to retreat. "Very well, then," she relented.

Duncan nodded, but Felicity spoke before he could. "What are on these scrolls you wish retrieved?"

"Old treaties, if you're curious. Promises of support made to the Grey Wardens long ago." Duncan sighed, his expression wry. "Though once only formalities, I suspect it may now be a good idea to have something to remind many of their commitments to us."

"Who would be foolish enough to forget?" Marnan asked.

Felicity shook her head. "I'm afraid the darkspawn threat isn't quite as clear up here as it is in the Deep Roads, Marnan. Up here, the darkspawn are largely considered defeated, and Blights only seem to happen in history books."

Finian nodded. "Let's hope the whole of Ferelden never has to learn differently."

"Enough talk," Kazar said, looking up at Duncan with fire in his eyes. "Let's just get to the part where we fry some darkspawn."

It seemed such a perfect summation of the upcoming quest that Duncan dismissed them with that.