"Stop right there, outsider, The Dalish have camped in this spot. I suggest you go elsewhere, and quickly." A woman stepped forward from the shadow of the tree just in front of us.

We had found the Dalish. Or, well, they had found us.

We were surrounded.

"Actually, we've been looking for the Dalish." I offered, my voice soft.

"I find that hard to believe. What business could we Dalish possibly have with a group like yours?

"I will tell that to your leader, and no one else." I raised my eyes, meeting her gaze.

A moment of silence passed as she assessed us. Finally, she relented, "Seeing as you are obviously no simple trespasser, I will leave it to the keeper to decide the importance of your business. In the camp, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself and remember that our arrows are still trained on you. Follow me." With that, she turned, giving us no choice but to follow.

The woman led us through the camp, the elves we passed by giving us defiant glares. I'd known the Dalish didn't like humans, but this wasn't what I'd expected. At least they'd listened to me and didn't just kill us on the spot.

"Hmm. I see we have guests." The older elf mused aloud as we approached him. He must be the keeper. "Who are these strangers, Mithra? I have precious little patience and less time to spend on outsiders today."

She pointed toward me, "I understand, but this one claims to have important business with our people."

"I see. Tell me, stranger, what business could you possibly have with us?" the man looked down his nose at me, his tone patronizing, "We have our own issues we must deal with, as you can see."

I took a moment to glance around, as did Alistair, Leliana, and Zevran. That was when I noticed the sick. Tents dotted the area around one of the fires in the camp, stretcher-like constructs holding people who were… dying. What had happened?

"We come representing the Grey Wardens." Alistair spoke up. He may have been hoping that would be the end of it, but we could all tell that we wouldn't be getting any aid from these elves. Not unless their sick were cured.

"You might have simply said so to begin with. Ma serannas, Mithra, you may return to your post."

"Ma nuvenin, Keeper." Mithra bowed her head and left.

"Now, allow me to introduce myself. I am Zathrian, the keeper of this clan, its guide and preserver of our ancient lore. And you are?" this, he directed at me.

"I am Anastasia. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Manners? From a shemlen? Interesting. What might be your mission here? Have you come to spread news of the Blight? I had already sensed the corruption spreading in the south. The existence of the Blight is not news to me. I would have taken the clan north by now, had we the ability to move. Sadly, as you can see, we do not."

"Yes, it seems like you have had your own troubles. What are the odds?" Alistair said, snark dripping from his words.

"I imagine you are here regarding the treaty we signed centuries ago." Zathrian continued, ignoring the warrior. It was for the better. "Unfortunately, we may not be able to live up to the promise we made. This will require some… explanation. Please, follow me."

This time, we were brought to the medical tents. The groans from the dying were making me uneasy. These people were probably half of the elves the keeper looked after.

"The clan came to the Brecilian Forest one month ago, as is our custom when we enter this part of Ferelden. We are always wary of the dangers in the forest, but we did not expect the werewolves would by lying in wait for us." His eyes fell to the ground, and it was clear he was far away, "They… ambushed us, and though we drove the beasts back, much damage was done. Many of our warriors lie dying as we speak. Even with all our magic and healing skill, we will eventually be forced to slay our brethren to prevent them from becoming beasts. The Blight's evil must be stopped, but we are in no position to uphold our obligations. I am truly sorry."

Our eyes met, and I shivered. Something was wrong. There was… something… he wasn't saying.

"Is there any way to help your men?" Leliana asked, sounding distraught.

"The affliction is a curse that runs rampant in their blood, bringing great agony and then ultimately either death or a transformation in to something monstrous. The only thing that could help them must come from the source of the curse itself, and that… that would be no trivial task to retrieve."

I took a step toward him, setting my shoulders, "We're good at non-trivial things."

"Within the Brecilian Forest dwells a great wolf-we call him Witherfang. It was within him that the curse originated, and through his blood that it has been spread. If he is killed and his heart brought to me, perhaps I could destroy the curse, but this task has proven too dangerous for us." He waved his hand for us to yet again follow, "I sent some hunters in to the forest a week ago, but they have not returned. I cannot risk any more of my clan."

We came to a stop at the spot we'd met him.

"Have you considered seeking outside help?" Leli asked.

"From whom? The children of the stone? The shemlen? Do you truly think they have time to spare for us?"

The red-haired bard bit her lip at his harsh tone. Maybe that's why people didn't like the Dalish. They acted like they were always alone. To be fair, though, the big cities in Ferelden had Alienages, so it wasn't hard to understand where they were coming from.

"If we help you, what will you give us?" I challenged.

"We would assist with the Blight, of course. And you would have our gratitude…"

"We'll find this Witherfang for you."

"I must warn you that more than werewolves lurk in the Brecilian Forest. It has a history full of carnage and murder, you see. Where there is so much death, the Veil separating the spirit realm from our own becomes thin, allowing spirits to possess things. Living or dead. But if you can indeed help… then I wish you luck."

"You guys go talk to people, see what you can find out about these werewolves." I murmured, my voice barely loud enough for my companions to hear, before speaking to the keeper again, "I have some questions."

"Make them quick, if you please. I have must to do here. My apprentice, Lanaya, or Sarel, the clan's storyteller, could provide you with answers just as easily."

The others split up, each going a different direction, to find information.

"Tell me more of this curse the hunters suffer from."

"There is not much to say. It stemmed originally from Witherfang, but now any werewolf may infect someone with it."

That important enough, in and of itself. I mentally gave him a once over; how did he know it had started with Witherfang, anyway?

"So, if a werewolf bites me, then I will become infected?"

Hesitation, "It is possible, but not guaranteed. The only way to protect against the curse it not to be bitten."

"So, did all werewolves everywhere stem from Witherfang?" I watched him closely.

"No. the ones from this forest, however, do."

So, it was possible someone cursed the wolf, made his bite contagious. Why would someone do such a thing, though? More importantly, who?

"How do you know if you have been infected by the curse?"

"You will know within a matter of days. You will begin to sweat and vomit and, most tellingly, your temper will become wild and uncontrollable. If that happens to you, you should seek out Witherfang even more swiftly. Your mission at that point will be rather… personal."

"And how did this curse start?"

"That is a long tale I do not have time to tell. Ask Sarel about it, if you wish."

"Fair enough. How can we find Witherfang? Any advice?"

"Watch for the white wolves. They are his eyes and ears in the forest."

Creepy. Wait. Were we talking about a wolf or a spirit? Something about this didn't feel right.

"I should go get ready with the others."

He looked through me, "I must return to caring for my people. Creators' speed on your way."

I ran in to Leliana shortly after left to my own devices.

"One of the men, he lost his wife recently."

I raised an eyebrow, "Okay?"

"The keeper told him she had died, but she had been infected by the curse. He worries she had turned, before her death. I told him we would look in to it. Discreetly."

"She died, though, didn't she? Couldn't he just look at her body?"

Her voice dropped to a whisper, "The keeper won't let him see her."

"Interesting. We can try, at the very least."

Leli smiled brilliantly.

We found Alistair a little way off, sitting on a log. Listening to an elf tell a tale about the history of the Dalish. The bard went and joined them, while I stayed where I was, looking for Zevran.

He saw me first, "Ah, my dear Warden."

"I know this might come across as racist, since I'm only asking because you're an elf, but-"

"I know little enough of the Dalish, other than the fact that my mother was one. Or so I was told." He stared at one of the statues dotting the area around the camp, "She had fallen in love with an elven woodcutter and accompanied him back to the city, leaving her clan behind for good. And there, of course, the woodcutter died of some filthy disease, and my mother was forced in to prostitution to pay off his debts. Oldest tale in the book."

I balked, "Zevran, that's horrible!"

"Is it? It seemed normal enough a tale growing up, no different than the other elven boys in the whorehouse. I didn't know my mother, either, of course. She died giving birth to me. My first victim, as it were." He noticed my expression and smiled slightly, "We were all raised communally by the whores. It was a happy enough existence, ignoring the occasional beating, until eventually I was sold to the Crows. I brought a good price, so I hear."

He spoke so flippantly about it.

"I'm so sorry for you, Zevran." I laid a hand on his back, sad.

"That is kind of you to say, but it is not necessary." His smile widened, "It could have been much worse. Shall I tell you about what happened to the other whorehouse boys who did not fetch a decent price with the Crows? Surely your life has not been so idyllic? People like you and I are not the product of happy lives of contentment, after all."

A look of understanding passed between us, and I snorted, "You can say that again."

"My original point is that my mother's Dalish nature was always a point of fascination for me. Through all the years of my Crow training, the one thing of my mother's that I possessed was a pair of gloves. They were of Dalish make, I knew that much, and beautiful. I had to keep them hidden, of course, as we were not allowed such things. Eventually they were discovered, and I never saw them again."

"Has there been no joy in your life at all?" I murmured, chewing on my lip. Where had that question come from?

"Oh, there has been plenty. To tell the truth, it is because I expected nothing more. Still, even I eventually thought that it would be better for me if I ran off to join the famous Dalish when one of their clans drew near Antiva City." He chuckled, "Naturally, the reality did not live up at all to the fantasies I had contrasted as a boy, staring at those gloves. But such is life. Come… enough talk of the Dalish. The others are waiting for us."

We walked over the Ali and Leli.

"The… I fear he would be offended being called a shop keep… craftsman who makes everything for the clan said he was looking for a specific type of wood." Leliana began, "Ironbark, I believe it was called. It is a silvery tree, and its bark is stronger than anything else."

"Alrighty. We can keep an eye out for it. Anything else?"

"Yes. Uh. What was his name?" the warrior ran a hand through his hair, "Saren? Sarel? Anyway, the storyteller said centuries ago, there was so much death, that the Veil was torn, and a powerful spirit came through. It possessed the wolf, Witherfang, and then cursed man. Created werewolves."

"This wolf must be ancient, then, if it's still alive." I muttered to myself.

"He said Zathrian says Witherfang is immortal. That the wolf might not even be killable. And that spirits possess the trees."

Our group exchanged looks.

I nodded resolutely, "If we're going to do this, I need you to listen to me."

"We always have." Leliana's tone was eager.

"No. I mean, really listen. I want our weapons out, until we're beyond the sight of the clan. At that point, sheath everything."

Alistair's expression tightened, but he nodded. Leli chewed on her lip, but followed suit.

Zevran grinned and patted one of his dagger hilts, "You live dangerously, Warden."

I shrugged, "Yeah, well, I have you three to work with. We'll be fi-" a sudden pain in my chest knocked the wind out of me. What…? My eyes darted all around, my feet taking me away from the others. Something was calling me. Something that was in pain. I stopped in front of a woman who was kneeling by a… deer? Wait, no. Halla. It was a halla, and she was distressed. I reached out, my hand hovering above her muzzle. She leaned in to my touch, her stare penetrating.

"Who comes-" the woman stood, surprise evident in her expression, "Oh, I beg your pardon, strangers. I was so busy attending to the halla, I did not hear your approach."

"Who are you?" the bard asked when I failed to say anything. Truth be told, I'd missed much of the conversation; Leliana had told me about it later.

"My name is Elora. I am the master herder, in charge of caring for the halla. Not as exciting as being a Grey Warden, but the halla are vital to us."

"Uh, what is a halla?" Alistair's voice shot up an octave, I do remember that part, at least. It grated on my nerves.

"They are the noble beasts that pull our aravel-what humans call 'landships.' They are our companions and our guides."

"Tell me, lovely woman, why have you separated this one from the herd?" Zevran's contribution.

Elora sighed, "I fear she may have been bitten during the werewolf attack. I have tried speaking with her, but she is too agitated for me to understand. The curse would not affect her as it would us, but it would still be lethal. And it may prove contagious to the other halla, as well." Frustration leaked in to her voice, "I can find no wound on her, but if she's truly ill, then…" another sigh, "then I will have to put her out of her misery. For her sake, as well as that of the herd."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Leliana fretted.

"I don't know. Do you have any skills that might help her? If you do, I would be grateful."

I stroked the beautiful creature's forehead soothingly, murmuring, "I know you are not sick."

She raised her head sharply, her eyes level with mine. Her face was so close, if I puckered my lips, I would kiss her without effort.

"I know you are not the sick one." I repeated.

She stamped her hoof, making an almost baying noise. Like a mix between a dog and a horse.

The herder gasped, startled, "What? No, my love. Be calm." A hand settled on my arm, "You're making her more agitated. Please, stop whatever you're doing."

"Wait a moment." I kept eye contact, my voice dropping again, "Tell Elora what's wrong. Tell her who the sick halla is. She can help them. You know she can."

The halla shook herself, giving a head bob akin to a nod.

"Yes… That's it. She's calming down! That's it, love. Tell me what troubles you…" the woman raised a hand, much like I had a few moments ago, and closed her eyes, "Ah, I see. It is her life-mate who is sick, not her. He was bitten on the leg during the attack, and she fears greatly for him. I did not realize another halla was injured. This will allow me to prevent the sickness from spreading to the entire herd." She bowed to me, "Ma serannas-thank you. You have done my clan a great boon this day. I will always be grateful for your help."

"Perhaps you could answer a question for me, then?" I asked, somewhat hesitant.

"I will do my best."

"Has there been any word from keeper Marethari?" I could feel the others' stares burning a hole in my back.

Elora's eyes widened, and she clasped her hands over her mouth. This made my companions shift uneasily; we were drawing attention.

"You… You're the Grey Warden who saved the Mahariel girl, aren't you?"

Collective gasps sounded around us. I closed my eyes for a few seconds. I just had to ask, right?

I nodded slowly, cracking my eyes open, "I am. I was curious about where her clan had gone to."

"I believe they're heading north, over the sea. Toward Sundermount."

"I appreciate it."

"May I ask why you wanted to know?"

It couldn't be helped. I was still a shemlen, after all.

I mustered a smile, "I was hoping they had left where they'd been. The land there will be tainted for a while yet."

There. There was the dawning I'd been waiting for; the others finally understood we were talking about the Dalish elf I had saved by recruiting. In the past.

"Alright." I whirled around, facing my team, "Are you ready?"

As one, we freed our weapons.

"We'll be back, once we're finished." I assured the nearby elves.