You know, the countryside outside Kirkwall isn't too bad...
Carver eyed the terrain with more curiosity than he had any right to. Despite having been in Kirkwall for a year there had been little time to enjoy the scenery outside. Sure, they went outdoors at times, but that was usually with a job in mind, or for chopping wood; they always went out with something to do, which distracted them from the surroundings.
This was true this time too, but they had walked for long enough for Carver to relax a bit, to lower his guard, knowing his brother would lead them right. If he knows where the Dalish are, that is... Carver smirked, it might be a bit dull to just walk around, but the idea of his brother getting them lost and for once not accomplishing his task was amusing.
Sure, the Wounded Coast was a beautiful place, all those sandy beaches and the crystal clear water...yet Carver found himself preferring the Sundermount forest. Here and there jagged cliffs shot up from the ground, as if the distant mountain had roots like any tree, trying to burst free. The trees around them were large, wiry and dark, as if trying to hide under the shadow of Sundermount. With such large trees, between which various ivies and shrubbery grew, there were only patches of grass, but where it grew it was a dark green, the blades longer and sharper than those in Ferelden.
It had a wild, untamed beauty...and Carver liked it.
To his left, Fenris was walking. The elf had actually volunteered to go with them without payment, which was the only reason Garrett had allowed it. Fenris hadn't really been forward about why he wanted to come, but it seemed he was curious about the Dalish...though pessimistic about finding anything worthwhile with them. Odd guy... Carver shot the elf a curious look, his eyes straying to the silvery tattoos. Scary too...glad he's on our side.
At the rear, Bethany and Anders walked, and it made Carver grimace just thinking about it. He agreed with Garrett, the possessed mage was not a good influence on their sister, if Carver could have it his way, she wouldn't even have magic, and to be near something like Anders. Carver feared whatever he might teach her would be dangerous. Anders himself hadn't come because she asked though, but rather had volunteered, like Fenris, curious, but rather about the idea of the Dalish mages being free, he had mentioned he already knew some of it from another source, but the man was like Garrett, always thirsty for more details, for knowledge.
Not to mention for more, 'oh we're going to set the mages free' talk...man, I hate him. Carver shot Anders a glare, though the mage didn't notice, busy as he was showing Bethany some weed while speaking in an annoyingly lecturing tone.
Up ahead, as usual, Garrett walked, closely accompanied by Varric, the dwarf apparently trying to cheer Garrett up, but to little avail. "Oh look, another rock, sort of looks like my brother..."
"Yes, I get it, we've been walking for ages without seeing the Dalish." Garrett snapped back, though he didn't look at Varric, his head instead turning left and right, as if he would spot the elusive elves at any moment. Tense, are we? Carver wouldn't call himself observant, but he and Bethany had both noticed, and talked about Garrett's behaviour around elves, as of late it had been very...terse, impolite even. It was a strange shift, since he had never been like that back in Ferelden, and considering they had to deal with elves so often and that he was usually diplomatic, a bit worrying...
"Relax, Hawke, they'll show themselves eventually. Besides, with all the gold you collected from Javaris, we're ahead of schedule." Varric pointed out, smirking up at the human.
"True." Garrett admitted, his shoulders dropping slightly at the thought of the wealth, making Carver grumble. He hadn't seen a copper of those twenty sovereigns, they had all been stored away in a chest under the floorboard, a chest mother refused to leave out of sight. I'm not Gamlen, dammit, and would it kill us if I had a copper for ale now and again? Yes, we're saving up for a 'life'...but what about living it now as well? He shot Garrett's back a glare. Like a damn dragon, hoarding the wealth, happier to have it rather than to use it for what it's meant to be used for...
Fenris interrupted his grumbling. "These Dalish, I've run into a few bands of them before, will be curious to see if this group is any different."
"Oh?" Carver gladly turned his attention to the elf. "You don't sound as if those former meetings were any fun."
Fenris scoffed, a hint of a smile in the corner of his lips. "They were set on educating this poor flat ear about what it means to be a free and proud elf...as if being an elf has anything to do with freedom or pride." He shook his head. "Freedom...bah, as if hiding in the muck, living off berries and dreaming of how things once were is the same as freedom. They're stubborn savages, focused on the past and unwilling to move forward, to make their own future." A snort escaped him.
Carver looked away, nodding pensively in agreement. To make your own future...yeah...wouldn't that be grand?
Garrett, however, interrupted his thought before he could take it any further. "I trust, Fenris, that you won't speak like that in front of the Dalish, we're here to make a delivery, not to fight." The man shot an irritated glance backwards.
"I've already done so." Fenris stoically replied, making Garrett arch an eyebrow. "They have been watching us for some time."
"What!" Carver wasn't sure if it was him or Garrett who shouted the question, perhaps both. What he did know was that he suddenly had his sword in his hands and his ready brother next to him, standing with their backs against Bethany as a shield, despite not knowing which direction the elves were in. Both were glaring in irritation at Fenris, but it was Garrett who spoke first. "Why didn't you say something!"
"No point, they'd melt away if we tried chasing them down." The elf shrugged at them. "They'll introduce themselves when they work up the gut."
Garrett opened his mouth to snap something back, but was interrupted by a new voice, a voice with a strange accent, slow and soft, the a's and e's longer than Carver was used to. "You are to go no further, shemlen."
Carver blinked at the sight of an elf appearing out of a bush, as if he'd been born out of the very roots. He wore a form-fitting suit of leather that had been coloured green in several areas, making the wearer look like part of the forest itself. He had a long dagger strapped to his belt, and was resting a hand on it as he glared at the group, the large elven eyes were a sharp green and narrowed, standing in stark contrast to the soft red tattoo covering his face. His eyes now darted to Fenris, narrowing even further in hostility. "Nor will we allow any smart-mouthed flat ear entry, go back to your filthy city, you shemlen slave."
"Ah, the Dalish, always so friendly..." Anders muttered, making Carver shoot him a glance, irritated at seeing the mage so calm even at the sight of eight more Dalish appearing, these sporting bows, with arrows on the strings...
"Knew that would get them to come forth." Fenris shot Garrett an arched eyebrow of superiority, then turned his gaze back to the Dalish elf, eyes narrowing. "And you, call me slave again and I'll rip your still beating heart out of your chest."
"He's not kidding." Carver muttered, watching the Dalish elf glare at Fenris, apparently unimpressed.
"If you think we will allow you to speak disrespectfully to one of the people you have made a grave error." The Dalish replied, his friends gripping their bows harder, ready to draw and shoot at any moment.
"Ah yes, respect." Fenris snorted, his tattoos flashing blue, making all the Dalish take a step back in surprise. "You demand it even while you tell me I'm-"
"Enough!" Garrett boomed, making everyone present jump at the volume of the man's voice, their eyes going over to him as he eyed the leader of the Dalish. "Excuse my companion here, he will not make any more problem, will you, Fenris?" The elf rolled his eyes at the question, but then nodded in agreement as the glow of his tattoos settled down. "That said, we are here to see your Keeper, we were sent by Flemeth, the witch of the wilds."
The eyes of the elves, already large, bulged to near comical size. "You..." The Dalish leader hesitated. "...were sent by Asha'bellanar?" He looked back at another of the Dalish, this one a women who offered a nod, her forehead creased in a frown, then he looked back to Garrett. "The Keeper said-" Again, he hesitated, gaze moving over the group ahead...then he straightened, raising his chin. "We have been expecting you, come with us."
With that, the elves swiftly turned and walked back into the under brush, forcing the group to follow or be left behind. Fenris snorted at the greenery. "Ah yes, try to pretend you knew all along that-"
Garrett put a hand on his shoulder as he passed, silencing the elf. "Be quiet."
Moving after his brother, Carver grinned at the way Fenris snorted at Garrett's back. Another one not liking being told what to do...why don't I like you again?
Then he was forced to turn his attention forward as the ground turned uneven, nearly tripping him over, ahead, the ground was getting even worse. So the elves like to climb to their camp...great.
8
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8
Finally!
Grunting, Carver climbed over a thick root of a tree that had been split in two during some old thunderstorm, the blackened wood standing in stark contrast to the warm sun above, a sun that almost seemed larger than before, since the Dalish camp lay atop a hillock close to the Sundermount mountain.
Carver was sweating and breathing heavily, the Dalish had picked what had to be the hardest and most circumventing path to get to the camp. If it was out of a fear of the group knowing the location of the camp, or if just to be bothersome to the heavier armoured humans, Carver chose not to think about in fear of punching someone's teeth out.
At least Garrett isn't happy either. Carver shot his brother a pleased look. While his brother's armour wasn't exactly the heaviest out there, it had definitively been a weight on him, and the shield strapped to his back hadn't helped things. As such, Garrett was panting, face covered with a sheen of sweat. Though his gaze was attentive, curious. What are you looking...oh. Carver followed his brother's gaze, and blinked at the sight.
Carver had seen a few Dalish hunters back in Ferelden back when they had lived on the road. It had been at a distance, as the groups had been wary of one another, as such he was familiar with how they looked and the like, but he hadn't been prepared for the sight of a Dalish camp.
Great wagons built in sleek forms, each as large as a house, stood in a semi-circle at the base of the mountain. From each wagon, a large mast rose, some sort of brown banner wrapped tightly around them. Bet Garrett could tell me what those are... Carver shot his brother a glance, noting the way the man was struggling not to smile, the tell-tale tick at the back of his jaw giving it away. Hope you know how to stow the curiosity, I don't want to listen to you questioning this Keeper person for hours...
The wagons left wide gaps between them for people to walk between, as well as a large space in the centre, showing that it was a camp for living in, not a fortress. Not that it looked friendly, the new arrivals had already been noticed, and Carver felt dozens of elven eyes on him, eyes narrowing in hostility. It wasn't any one big reaction, but as the group moved forward he saw mothers firmly guide their children into the wagons, and anyone not doing that were eyeing the group while fingering whatever they had at hand, their daggers, axes and bows were all tools, but at the moment it was clear what the elves were ready to use them for.
An oppressive silence filled the camp as the group slowly walked into it.
Forcing himself to not nervously fidget, Carver looked to his brother. I hope you know what you're doing... Garrett looked steady though, eyes straight ahead and calmly walking forward, which meant he probably had things under control. I guess the Dalish haven't killed us...yet. Carver glanced left and right. Everywhere he was met by hard glares, defiant looks, as if they expected him to try and oppress them at any moment.
"And there's the Keeper." Fenris muttered, grimacing in disgust.
Looking ahead once more, Carver grimaced as well. The elderly elf before them sported grey hair tied in a bun, her eyes a pale green and a somewhat harsh-looking tattoo of gold over her face, standing in stark contrast to an otherwise soft, if somewhat worn, face. She looks like she'd be someone's grandmother... What caused Carver to grimace though, was the staff she was leaning on. Another mage, great, I'm so sick of magic in my life...
And next to the Keeper, a goddess of beauty stood.
Carver blinked, startled by the sight.
Looking closer, which was impossible not to, he realised the elf next to the Keeper wasn't a goddess, but the beauty part held up. Thin, even for an elf, the woman wore a form-fitting suit of thin mail, that sadly enough was covered by a loose dark green robe, opened at the sides and which didn't cover her arms or legs like that of the Keeper's. Her eyes were even larger than that of any elf Carver had ever seen, and while green like the rest of them, hers were softer, gentler. Her wispy dark hair was tied up in several small braids pulled back from a finely chiselled face sporting a dark tattoo of vines along her cheekbones and what almost resembled antlers over her forehead.
Her gaze was dancing between the people of the group, the large eyes clearly transmitting a mixture of nervousness and curiosity. Maker, you're cute, no, beautiful... Carver felt his heart thump hard within his chest.
Next to him, Anders chuckled. "Carver...mouth."
With a click, Carver shut his mouth, then shot the smirking Anders, along with a Bethany struggling not to titter, a glare.
Grunting in irritation, Carver turned back to the scene ahead, gaze once more drawn to the woman at the Keeper's side, this time noticing the staff she carried in her hand. Okay, so magic...errr...I guess I could...live with that in this case. His gaze once more moved to the elf's face, his heart once more thumping hard. Yes, definitely.
Garrett, however, had only eyes for the Keeper, apparently set on getting his errand done so they could leave. Probably wise with all the glares they're giving us but...well... Carver took a deep breath, forcing himself to look away from the elf before she got nervous by the staring. ...wouldn't hurt to stay a bit longer... "Keeper, I'm Garrett Hawke, I was sent here by...your people called her Asha'bellanar?"
Carver heard Bethany sigh at the question, he himself was torn between being irritated by Garrett's thirst for knowledge, and giddiness that it might mean they would stay a bit longer if he indulged himself. Maybe I could chat up the beauty, I don't have much experience hitting on elves, and none with Dalish, but how hard can it be? He eyed the woman once more, licking his lips. Damn, was a long time since I was nervous at the idea of charming a girl...
"Yes, or Flemeth, if you prefer." The old woman replied with a slow nod, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening as she leant forward on her staff looking into Garrett's eyes. "Andaran atish'an, I am Keeper Marethari, and you look wiser beyond your years...as well as older, a strange thing to see in a human..."
Wait, was that an insult or a compliment? Carver blinked, momentarily tearing his gaze away from the goddess at the Keeper's side. Garrett ignored the words though, apparently set on staying on topic, to the mixed feelings of Carver. "I'm the one she sent, to give you this, and to perform any service to you you ask for regarding it." He handed the amulet in his hands to the Keeper, the polished bone shimmering in the sunlight.
The Keeper studied the amulet, her face inscrutable. "And one who keeps his word too...very strange one..." Carver stiffened in irritation at the implication, and felt his sister grip his hand, holding him back from doing anything foolish, his irritation only rising as he noticed how Garrett brushed off the insult with a derisive snort. "Also eager to get going? Are all your kind so...busy?" The Keeper finally looked up at Garrett, head cocked to the side.
"Only when the hospitality of their hosts stands in question." Garrett coldly replied, making Carver blink in surprise even as an amused chuckle escaped Fenris.
"Ah, yes, abelas..." The Keeper turned her gaze away, letting it sweep over the camp and all the staring elves, then raised her voice. "Hamin, Shemlen ena sahlin atisha."
A few elves grumbled, others snorted, but only when the Keeper wasn't looking at them. All, however, turned back to their duties. In fact they did so so decisively it was as if their guests were suddenly not there. Great, so instead of glaring at us they're now ignoring us...guess it's a step up.
"So, you are the one she entrusted with this task?" Marethari looked down at the amulet, a slight frown creasing her forehead. "Then I will do as she asked of me..." A reluctant sigh...and she looked up at Garrett, handing him back the amulet. "You will take this amulet with you to the top of Sundermount. There, Merrill here, my First, will perform a ritual of the departed." She gestured at beauty next to her. Merrill... Carver smiled at the name, earning him an elbow in the ribs from a snickering Bethany, making him reply with a glare.
The elf jumped at the mention of her name, looking startled at being noticed, a slight flush appearing on her cheeks. "Ah, eh...hello." She offered an uncertain wave of her hand, smiling at them as a flush appeared on her cheeks and nose. Maker, you're cute... Staring, Carver couldn't help but notice how the elf's initial smile disappeared as she looked back to Marethari, a look of worry drawing across her face.
"Then..." Marethari continued, glancing over at the other woman with a sigh before looking back to Garrett. "...I'd ask you to please escort her with you back to Kirkwall, as a favour to me." Huh? Wait...yes!
Merrill blinked, apparently not having expected the words, her mouth opening to say something, only to slowly close as Marethari shot her another glance, something sad in her eyes. "Thank you, Keeper..." Merrill whispered, she bowed, head kept low for a moment. "You're too kind."
"I am." Marethari replied, a hint of irritation in her voice, then another weary sigh escaping her as she looked back to Garrett. "Will you do this?"
"I promised Flemeth to perform your duty, I will do this." Garrett acknowledged with a nod of his head, then looked over at Merrill, looking somewhat puzzled. "As to your request...I see no reason why she couldn't accompany us to the city, it's where we're headed once we're done here. I'm however curious as to why...Kirkwall has nothing a Dalish would want, and even if there is...why not send her with an escort of your hunters? Pardon me for making assumptions, but I have trouble seeing Dalish trusting humans with one of their own, particularly a, what did you call it, First? I assume this means apprentice?" He shot the two elves' staves a glance.
"It does mean apprentice, of a fashion, yes." Marethari inclined her head. "Good to see not all humans are too close-minded to see the Dalish as something but dangerous vagabonds, that we have a society." Fenris snorted at that, but the Keeper stoically ignored him. "I thank you, I will not forget your help."
Now it was Garrett's turn to snort, crossing his arms over his chest and looking decidedly unimpressed. "Yes, I'm a paragon for a human, I thank you for pointing that out." Carver blinked, exchanging a worried look with Bethany. "I'm also not an idiot, like you'd probably say most humans are, and noticed that you didn't answer my question. Why not send Merrill with some of your hunters?"
"I..." Marethari hesitated, grimacing as she glanced over at a Merrill now busy staring at the ground, poking at it with what Carver only now noticed to be bare feet. "...it's a Dalish issue, human, nothing of your concern, but no hunter will escort her, that is why I asked this of you."
"Will? Or wants to?" Garrett queried, making Carver shoot him a glare as Merrill shifted her feet, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of the conversation. "And why wouldn't they want to? What are you hid-"
Before Carver could act, Varric, so far quiet, tugged at Garrett's arm. "Hawke, I know we haven't had the best reception here, but guests are supposed to act a certain way too, so let's just get this over with..."
"I..." Garrett hesitated, eyeing the Keeper with what almost seemed to be hostility...and then shrugged. "...yes, of course, you're right." He turned to look at Merrill, making her look up as he snapped. "Merrill, lead us up the mountain then." Then he turned back to the Keeper, offering a quick nod. "Keeper."
With that, he strode on, making the entire group hurry to catch up. Even Merrill, the one supposed to show them the way, had to run to take the lead.
"So..." Carver hurried up next to Merrill, unable to stop himself. "...you've been in Sundermount for long?"
Before the elf could reply, Garrett spoke up ahead. "Carver, don't."
"Right, of course." Carver instantly replied, shooting daggers at Garrett's back.
Not. He shot the confused-looking elf a reassuring smile.
8
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8
"So the elves of old buried their dead atop mountains? Fascinating..." Garrett nodded, pleased. It was long since he had studied anything, and while she wasn't a book, Merrill knew, as an apprentice to become Keeper, everything there was to know about the Dalish, and was surprisingly happy to share.
Which had been the only good thing during the journey so far. Garrett knew he would be uncomfortable surrounded by elves, and yes, he had been a bit...short with them, more so than his usual diplomatic self. Not that they had helped things along. I'm good enough for a human? How kind of them to make such judgement...one would think being exposed to human oppression they'd try to be better than us. Then again, they seem convinced that they are...what an arrogant people.
"Yes." Merrill smiled up at him, apparently unable to read the thoughts threatening to burst out of his mouth. Behind him, Garrett could feel Carver's glare, but ignored it, he had started the conversation with Merrill mostly out of a need to know the road ahead, but also to keep him from trying to hook up with a damn Dalish, who knew how she would hurt him? Tricky elves...what are you hiding? The elf simply smiled, bouncing slightly with each step. "Though it wasn't really a burial, it was a long sleep, back when we were immortal."
"I've always found that curious, I've never read anything in the Chantry about the elves being immortal." Garrett pointed out, genuinely curious, yet also hoping the elf would reveal something about why she wouldn't be escorted by her own people. I don't trust this, they're hiding something...
"Well of course the Chantry wouldn't..." Merrill rolled her eyes, then put her hand over her mouth as her eyes widened. "Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to imply...that's to say I wasn't trying to insult you or say that you're wrong...well I did mean that but-"
"You are free to disagree with the Chantry scholars however much you want." Garrett interrupted, sensing what the elf was trying to get across and decidedly ignoring Bethany's chuckle following Merrill's little outburst. "And me, for that matter, I just wanted to get the facts right." He shrugged. "So does this mean there's a burial chamber at the top or not?"
"Err, yes, there is." Merrill replied, calming down. "Our immortality was gone, and we waged a great battle very near from here, those slain were buried at the top." She cocked her head to the side, frowning as she eyed the top of the mountain. "I wonder how long that took? Seems an awful long way to carry so many..." Garrett nodded in agreement even as she turned back to him, looking a bit awkward. "Anyway, the dead there have been a bit...restless as of late...I guess..."
"Restless?" Garrett came to a stop, eyes narrowing. Knew it, elven trickery... "What do you mean, restless?"
"Erm...some..." Merrill shifted where she stood, offering an awkward smile and a shrug. "...got up?" Behind him, Garrett heard the others groan, and he himself wasn't far away from doing the same. "They're not many..." Merrill's voice rose in pitch. "...the hunters would have taken care of them themselves in time..."
Yet instead we are sent to do it, much better to risk a human... Garrett nearly found himself glaring at the elf, despite the innocent look on her face. Fenris was the one replying though, his tone even. "I've fought undead before, summoned by Danarius' minions, they are easily destroyed, if one doesn't flinch or mind the stench."
"Good." Garrett reluctantly shot the elf a thankful nod, it was good to know the resistance would be minor. Then he turned back to Merrill. "So why didn't they do this, if it is so easy?"
"Well...because of...that." Merrill pointed at a strange bubble that Garrett only now noticed, the purple shimmer nearly invisible with the strong sun shining into their eyes. It was covering an outcropping of the mountain, some grass even growing on the ground as stones Garrett at first had assumed to be part of the mountain turned out to be worn headstones, barely recognizable as such. "I guess it's partly why I'm up here, I'm the only one who could bring it down..."
Garrett frowned, there was something nervous, even guilty, in Merrill's voice. "I see...the Keeper couldn't bring this down?" The elf shook her head, biting her bottom lip. Garrett glanced back at the other two mages. "Anders, Bethany?"
"I...don't recognise this magic." Bethany murmured, eyes closing as she held a hand forward. "I don't really want to sense it, actually...don't think I could crack it open either."
"I've sensed it before." Anders muttered, his mood suddenly having soured as he leant on his staff. "Yet...not, it stinks..."
"All magic stinks." Fenris snorted, making Anders and Bethany shoot him a glare.
"I can open it, give me a moment." Merrill stepped closer to the shimmering aura, tone firm.
Turning his head, Garrett spoke quickly. "Right, a few skeletons, Fenris says they're no problem, but we don't take any risks. Fenris and Carver, with me up front, Varric to the left, Anders right, Bethany, you stay behind me. Are you listening? Why are you-" Finding the eyes of the others bulge, Garrett looked back to Merrill...and found his eyes widen as he took a frightened step backwards.
The elf's left hand held a dagger stained by a blood, blood seeping from her right palm as without hesitating she slammed it up against the shimmering field. Blood magic!
Dark red lines of blood seeped from the impact, creating lines in the shimmering aura spreading out like crimson cracks...and then the cracks rushed outwards, covering more and more until the entire field was covered with it.
Without a sound, it fell apart and faded before it could hit the ground.
"There, now we can-" Merrill turned, and found herself staring at the tip of Garrett's sword.
"So that's why they wouldn't come up here themselves." Garrett snarled, anger filling him. "That's why they sent us with you instead, that's why they won't escort you to Kirkwall themselves..." He found himself hissing the words. "You're a blood mage...a danger to your clan, so they send us instead. I should have known you bloody manipulative elves would lie..."
"It wasn't lying!" Merrill gasped, eyes wide. "It was just..." She licked her lips. "...not telling the whole story, that's all."
Next to Garrett, Fenris stepped forth, eyes narrowed. "She deals with demons. Who knows who's speaking those words? Kill her."
For once, Garrett found himself agreeing with the elf, anger filling him as he inched closer to a horrified-looking blood mage...
Only for Anders to speak up. "I don't approve of blood magic, but you can't kill her for it. Besides, the Keeper asked you to take her to Kirkwall, I hardly think she'll approve of you killing her. In fact, I'm pretty sure the Dalish would protest that...with arrows and fireballs."
Garrett hesitated. Damn...he's right. Grunting, he sheathed his sword, making Merrill's shoulders sag in relief, only to shoot up once more as he jabbed a finger into her face, eyes narrowed. "I don't want to see a single spell more out of you, you hear me?"
"Errr, I can still cast without using-"
"Not. A. Single. Spell." Garrett stopped her protest, jabbing the finger into her chest with each word.
"Okay..." Merrill lowered her head, looking away, though something defiant still shone in the corner of her eyes, making Garrett frown in irritation. Dammit, I don't need another one like Carver, who does what she's told until I turn away, especially not a blood mage. After we reach Kirkwall we'll part ways as soon as possible.
"Good, now stand back." Brushing past the elf, Garrett shot Carver a quick glare, daring his brother to comfort the Dalish, then turned his attention to the field ahead, sword and shield ready.
Only to find half a dozen skeletons littering the ground, apparently having collapsed. "What the...?"
"Oh, guess the spell I cast to keep these demons away from the camp also banished them when I removed them, guess they fed off the barrier to exist..." Merrill said, already having perked up.
Garrett scowled at her, anger still filling him. "You guess! Even I know a mage should think before she casts!" At least Merrill flinched at that, a guilty look in her eyes. "And what spell did you cast that summoned them in the first place! You felt like having a chat with your ancestors!"
Merrill's head turned back, her eyes flashing in defiance for but a moment, only to look away a moment later, her tone weary. "You wouldn't understand..."
Angry, Garrett kept glaring at her, wanting...he didn't know what, to do something violent. Bloody elves. Growling, Garret found himself turning to the pedestal at the end of the outcropping, his patience waning. "Let's get this over with..." Stepping up to the worn stone, he placed the amulet upon it. "Merrill, do your ceremony, then we leave and get you to Kirkwall, from there you're on your own."
"I...understand." Merrill muttered, the elf brushing past him as Garrett stepped away, not sure he trusted the elf with anything that could be magical, and in particular anything Flemeth had brought. Putting her hands on the cold stone, Merrill looked down at the amulet, her voice soft. "Hahren na melana sahlin." Garrett easily suppressed his curiosity about the foreign tongue, for all he was concerned, he was done with the Dalish. "Emma ir abelas, souver'inan isala hamin, vehnan him dor'felas, in uthenera ne revas."
Sighing, Garrett crossed his arms over his chest, shooting Carver a glare as he noticed the boy hadn't quite stopped with his staring, despite the revelation that the object of his latest choice of conquest was not only an elf, but a damn blood mage.
"Vir sulahn'nen, vir dirthera, vir samahl la numin, vir lath sa'vunin." The elf bowed her head, hands slipping off the stone as she took a step back...
And then Flemeth stood before them.
Garrett blinked – while he had figured the amulet magical and that Flemeth had a plan with it, he hadn't thought it would summon her – as the others gasped, only Merrill seemed unsurprised as she dropped upon one knee.
The old woman stretched, her worn dress rustling as she with surprising ease jumped off the stone. "Ah, and here we are, I half expected you to have sold the amulet by now." Her amber eyes looked over at Garrett, amused.
"It occurred to me." Garrett admitted, having recovered from his surprise. "It also occurred to me that making you an enemy would be unwise."
"Ah yes, always the clever boy." Flemeth chuckled. "I'm glad you were, it would have been...unfortunate otherwise." A predatory smile appeared on her lips for the briefest of moments, convincing Garrett beyond doubt that he had made the right choice.
"Wait...couldn't you just have flown here?" Carver managed the question, the boy stumbling over his words, clearly he was still shocked at the sight of the old witch.
"I had things to do." Flemeth smirked. "Time and space are so limiting at times, sometimes you just have to reach beyond it."
Garrett found himself shuddering. Blood magic, now this, father would not like this... "I'm glad you're pleased with the conclusion, I gather you'll be off then?"
"So eager, so impatient." Flemeth smiled, then looked over at the still kneeling Merrill. "Ah, I see...a bit on edge are we?" She looked back up at Garrett, smirking. "Men always fear what they do not know." Then back down to Merrill. "As to you, my little flower, I would be careful about who I made dealings with, the darkest waters always carry the largest sharks."
"Yes, Asha'belannar." Merrill somehow managed to bow her head even further where she knelt.
"Hmpf." Flemeth snorted, finding something amusing in the reply, then turned back to Garrett before letting her gaze sweep over the others in the group. "It seems you make interesting...friends." She cocked her head to the side. "You'll need them."
"What? How..." Garrett felt another shudder run through him. "...can you see the future?"
"Sometimes, not today." Flemeth shrugged. "But I also listen, to the current, to the change in the wind..." Again, the predatory grin appeared. "...to the growing storm." A shrug. "Take it for what you will, for me it matters not, though I would like to see a happy ending for you, they are so few and far apart in these dark days..."
Garrett blinked, confused, worried...yet not sure if he'd dare show it. "Thank you."
A laugh escaped the woman, her head rocking back. "Oh don't thank this old crone for her meaningless prattle! Just take it for what it is." She looked back to him, taking a deep breath. "Well, I shan't keep you from your important work, goodbye."
A flash...and a dragon was lifting off the cliff, the wind thrown from its flapping wings nearly knocking the group over as the dragon roared and flew off.
Silence, them all staring at the rapidly disappearing dragon.
"Well..." Merrill said, tone bright. "...that was exciting!"
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Thanks to Abydos Jackson for making time for this one.