Hey guys. I'm back, with another chapter of my new flagship series.
Before I get started, I'd like to inform you all of some things. I'm changing the name. As you can see. I'm making this story a set up to the main one. A prelude, if you will. I'm sure there's an actual name for it, but this entire story will just be the arc that sets up all the pieces to when I write my version of DA: Inquisition as a crossover with the Dresden Files.
The Dresden age saga
Vampires vs Elves.
Chapter 2: Ash of the dead. Healing of the wounded
-Who a person is cannot be seen with the eye.
Brief Recap: A huge fight between vampires- there's no point in hiding that fact- has just gotten into a skirmish with not one, not two- but three Dalish elf clans. I introduced a bit character from the third game that we never actually meet. My future Dalish mage elf inquisitor. A few fan fave characters from previous games and one of my own Original characters.
Anyway, big battle. Monsters. Mages. Wood beast. Warriors. Bad guys got away but the heroes survived. This is the aftermath.
Enjoy.
"Don't be stupid." A voice said, in a 'I'm smarter than you' tone. "Andruil was the bloody goddess of the hunt. Why would she stop at animals? She totally stalked the other creators."
"Elgar'nan was so blasted powerful, he beat up the sun." Another voice spat, equally annoyed and certain as the first. "No way in the void was some girl with a bow on a halla going to hunt him. You're wrong, so there."
"Well, I'd rather be wrong that stupid- stupid."
"Is there a difference between wrong and stupid?"
"If you really have to ask that, then yes. Ha! I win."
"No you didn-"
They just kept going. Vilkas the hunt-master did his very best to block it out. But when your body is a beaten-bruised mess and your eyes are wrapped closed by bandages… you don't have much to get you through the day.
"By the gods…" Vilkas sighed, sitting up in his bunk. Doing his best to focus on the heat and sound of the camp fire instead of the babbling barking of the two wounded pups he was stuck with. He failed. Fire itself was no match for two young men with nothing to do but pick fights with each other. "They've been at this for days."
"Oh yeah, they've been doing this for a while." The voice of the clan's first chirped to his side. He felt the young girl sit next to him on his bunk. "But at least they're only talking about which god is the most bad-ass this time. Usually it's which goddess has the best chest. How are you doing Daddy?"
"Ha." Vilkas snorted. "And for a man who can't use his eyes, that never gets old." The Hunt-Master turned his head toward his Keeper's female apprentice- His daughter. "I'm fine sweetie… Well, I'm not dead."
"Why are you sitting here, listening to them?" The first asked, clear concern in her voice. Focusing on the least uncomfortable subject. The other being her father's possible loss of sight.
"Lack of options." Vilkas answered honestly, padding his still wounded body. Pointing at his bandaged blind eyes. "Not much to do. Plus its kinda fun to pick people out by their voices." Vilkas lied. "As hunt-master, it is something I learned before I turned 10."
"Wow. C-Can you really do that?" The first asked, buying it. "Wait… why didn't you teach me that?"
"Thought Dezzy was going to. She hasn't?" Vilkas asked, sounding incredulous- committing to his fib. "How long have you been her apprentice, Keyleth?"
"Siiiince I first came into my magic... 10-ish." Keyleth answered defensively, awkwardly. Vilkas could hear the poor girl twiddling her thumbs. "And Destinna Istimaethoriel is a great and knowledgeable Keeper. She still has many things to still teach me. Many things. She'll teach me how to do that hearing... thing. Eventually. I hope."
"Riiiiight, well-"
"And Keeper Destinna has mostly been teaching me magic and history. Not much in the practical skills department." His mage daughter said, oblivious. "Dang. That sounds sooooo much better. Ca-Can I get a do-over?"
Vilkas burst out laughing.
"Ha-Ha! Oh, the creators." Vilkas the hunt-master chuckled. "To be young and 10 years old again."
"Uhhh, I'm twenty." Keyleth said, a little offended.
"Sweet girl, you just had your first battle. One you almost lost. No one is their actual age after that." Vilkas pointed at the two from before. Still arguing. Oblivious. "These dummies are years older than you and were hardened warriors. Now they're back to a couple of kids before their first big boy dreams."
"Ummm, big boy dreams?" Keyleth mumbled, like she was afraid to say it. Vilkas coughed, embarrassed at what he just said to his daughter.
"Its okay to be scared." Vilkas announced, hoping he sounded reassuring. The old hunt-master happy to play the wise sage and move on. "Its okay to be a little kid again. Especially when you almost weren't able to grow old. Probably a weird thing to hear from your dad. But its true. You're getting older and its time you learned; express your emotions. Happiness and pain. Explicitly after a hard battle. Its better than bottling it up inside. Dezzy never told you this?"
"Uhhh, hi-history and magic."
"Well, here's your first practical lesson." Vilkas shook his head, disappointed in his old friend. "If anyone has told you that being an adult means never showing 'weakness'- it means they learned wrong. The world is full of terrible things. Those monsters are only some of them. You can run from them. Fight them. Or mock them. I say go for mock. Makes life more fun and monsters less scary."
"Tha-That sounds nice, but I don't know about practical." The Keeper's apprentice said, her tone uncertain. "I don't think those monsters would appreciate trading insults."
"Maybe not, but this is after the battle." Vilkas shrugged. "What matters is how you get back on your feet. Heal. Learn. Become stronger. Make yourself into something that won't be hurt like that again."
"Those two do that by acting like little kids?" Keyleth, the first student, asked. Vilkas guessed she was pointing at the hardened warriors laying helplessly in their bunks. Covered in bandages and bruises.
"For them, its either do that or finish what those monsters started." Vilkas explained. "Break, so they never can pick themselves up. So yes. Act like little kids. The question now, the one that matters; how will you pick yourself up after your first battle?"
"I wanna sit here and have you teach me practical stuff." Vilkas' daughter said, less uncertain this time. Actual confidence in her voice now. "I like the quality time."
"Me too, princes. But still, your first instinct after almost dying is to go to the smartest person you know and start learn'n their wisdom." Vilkas folded his arms, smiling. "You impress and flatter me young lady."
"Y-Yes! That, that is ex-exactly what I'm doing." The first stuttered, twiddling her thumbs again. "And totally not because Keeper Destinna made me your care taker until you've healed enough to remove your bandages."
"So onto the hearing thing?" Vilkas the Hunt-Master asked, moving on.
"Yes please." The first answered, a little too fast.
"Okay." Vilkas sighed, pointing to the side of his head. "See these long pointed ears? Well-"
"Yes, I see them- Oops." Keyleth blurted, catching herself. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. Please continu-"
"Please save all questions, comments, and concerns until after the lesson." Vilkas the hunt-master announced, poking his young adult daughter in the side. She yipped, startled. "Thank you. Anyway, see how long, thin and pointy elf ears are? There is a reason for that. Elves are naturally attuned to nature. Not like the Dwarves. They are attuned to the very ground itself. While they are sensitive to the vibrations of stone, elves are sensitive to the vibrations of life."
"Life?" The first asked, intrigued- though, interrupting him. "Dang. Sorry."
"Now I know your Dezzy's student." Vilkas shook his head, happy that the girl was interested. "She teaches you, but she doesn't care if you learn."
"Wait, what?"
"Its well known that all the elves of Arlathan could do magic."Vilkas said, ignoring his daughter. "Magic is the expression of life itself. As I'm sure Keeper Dezzy has chirped that at you at least once a day. Like birds in the morning that tell you dawn is here." Vilkas rolled his eyes. It hurt terribly, but he couldn't help it. Keyleth saw his pain and reached out to him, concerned. Vilkas waved her off. "The magic thing might not be true anymore, but the elves of today are just as attuned as the elves of old. Our hearing is part of that, it just takes some work."
"Like Uthenera." The first said, excited. "The endless sleep."
"Exactly." Vilkas nodded, happy this young adult was paying attention. When Vilkas was her age, he thought he had all the answers. No one could tell him what to do. It took a fist to the face to get him to listen to anyone. "Now, this basic skill is very important and more useful than any spell. Its more than hearing, its listening."
"I-I've been a student my entire life." Keyleth stuttered, indignant. "I know how to listen."
"When people are talking at you, sure." Vilkas pointed at her face, or hoped he was. "I can teach you how to listen, when no one wants you to. Especially, when no one wants you to. To pick out one person from a crowd. A path through a hedge. A route through a maze. Its all about tuning out distraction. Picking up the smallest details. For people- you get good enough, you can tell their emotions, direction, even their breathing- One thing stays the same; regardless of what anyone says, its what they don't say that matters."
"Don't say that matters?" The first asked, confused. "What do you mean?"
"A lesson for another time." Vilkas shook his head, reluctantly. "A bit advanced for you."
"Dang, still though." Keyleth pouted. "Wow."
"Think that's good?" Vilkas laughed. "Get enough practice at it, you can hear the last thing someone ate."
"Really?" The first asked, excited. Vilkas grinned. "Sooo cool. Show me! Please, show-"
Vilkas burped in her face. The first hopped back, startled. The poor girl fell off the cot. Falling face first in the ground. The sound of her breathing in the dirt was a dead give away for the blind man. Picking herself up to her knees, Keyleth waved away the air in front of her, laughing.
"Bo-Boiled rabbit st-stew... Gross."
"Sorry sweetie." Vilkas laughed, extending a hand to her. The poor, embarrassed girl took it. He pulled her up. "But hey, you asked for it."
"Hey, Hunt-master Vilkas?" One of the voices from before asked. The one who backed the huntress god, Vilkas guessed. "You gotta know more about this than us. What do you think about Andruil hunting mortals?"
"Well..." Vilkas stretched on, his care on such things died the first time a girl he liked slipped off her mage robe for him. He missed those, and the pretty face they belonged to. But these youngsters didn't need to know that though. Especially his daughter. "Compared to animals, elves don't have much in regards to speed and muscle. Though, we do have tools and brains. But against a god? That's not much. If a god did hunt mortals, it would only be for sport. Not food. So it would be a volume hunt. More the merrier. Andruil would hunt elves down in packs or groups. Something to make it last longer than pulling back the string of a bow."
A moment of silence overtook their little group. Vilkas heard the two wounded warriors turn to look at each other. The Hunt-Master could practically feel the first staring at him.
Hey, Vilkas stopped caring now. Sure. As a youth. Oh yes. Obsessively, at that.
"Yeahhhh, but... do you think she'd actually do it?" The same warrior asked.
"Oh boy." Vilkas sighed, exhausted. He extended out his arm. "Dezzy's young apprentice, if would be so good as to escort me to your master. Time I got an update on my injuries."
"O-Ohhh, um. Yeah." Keyleth said, grabbing his arm and tugging him in the right direction. He fallowed her. Thankfully, leaving the two behind. To which, they went right back to it. Fight'n over not'n. "Right this way, Hunt-Master Vilkas."
"You know, baby-girl." Vilkas leaned his head down, ashamed. The pain in his joints burning with every step. His battle scars aching with each breath. His eyes all scratchy with every heartbeat. The great Hunt-master of clan Lavellan, the leader of its warriors and defender of their people... needed his daughter to help him feed himself. His hands hurt so much. "I was really hoping it would be a good few years until you were helping me get up and down with sit'n."
"I know, Daddy. Me too." Keyleth sighed, slowing down her pace- just a bit. Allowing her father's journey to be a bit easier. "But it's not too bad. Keeper Destinna thinks you should recover. Maybe not everything, but you'll be walking around on your own in no time. Feeding yourself and everything, like cleaning your own wounds. Specially that last one. That's bad. So ba-"
"Thank you." Vilkas said, gingerly. "That'll do, Baby-girl."
His daughter mumbled an apology before walking on in silence.
'Sweet girl.' Vilkas thought, smiling. 'When you leave home, away from family, you'll be shaking off the boys with a stick.'
Sadly, that happy feeling didn't last as the father and daughter walked through the camp. The sounds of sooo many people filled the settlement. The echoes of the crowed were everywhere. The talking. Working. The padding of tiny feet from playing youngn's. Same as it always was, but much- much more than usual. All this for a blind man, just now stepping into his seniority.
"There are so many in the camp." Keyleth said, the first apprentice of Clan Lavellan. Her tone filled with open awe and clear confusion. "It reminds me of Arlathvhen when I was a kid."
"Ha!" Vilkas laughed, he felt his daughter's grip on his arm tighten. "The last gathering of the Dalish clans wasn't even a full decade ago. There are only two other clans at our camp. Hardly Arlathvhen."
"Still." Keyleth shrugged. "It's more than I'm used to."
"Keyleth. Keyleth. Keyleth." Vilkas snorted. The sound of footsteps of another pair of travelers crossing their path in the background. Their steps and voices were unfamiliar enough for Vilkas to know they weren't part of his clan. "You knew the faces and stories of everyone you'd meet on any given day. Now you're tripping over yourself around every corner."
"N-Not true. I'm not tri-"
Vilkas gently shoved his daughter into those same travelers. Keyleth bumped her shoulders into one of theirs. The pair were, understandably, annoyed. Staring hard at the girl. Keyleth hopped back a step. Her body going ridged. She gripped her mage staff like her baby blanket he knew she still has. The poor girl flubbed away. Stuttering random names she knew or mispronouncing the names she did not know. Soon enough, Keyleth just stopped. Apologized. Waddled back to her father. Vilkas' daughter's head hanging low. The two strangers eyed them, but then moved on. Acting like it never happened.
"That wasn't nice."
"I know." Vilkas sighed. "But I'm your dad, and I gotta learn'ya. Our clan avoid outsiders. All outsiders. Even other elves. It's for our safety. You know this. What you might not know, is that Clan Levallen is one of the larger Dalish groups. Isolation has some perks. But there's drawback's too. Like how our Keeper's apprentice, who is learning all her knowledge and expected to lead our people some day, is more afraid of strangers than Darkspawn- or whatever those monsters were."
"He-Hey, I-I am not..." Vilkas' daughter stopped, embarrassed. "Yeah. I am. Which is weird. Right. It's weird. I mean, that was my first battle. I saw people die. People actually died. People I had known my whole life. In front of me. And... I was focused. I didn't freeze. Stutter. Anything. Now I'm around, strangers. Friendly strangers and..." Keyleth thumbed back at the two he shoved her into. "That. Is something wrong with me?"
"Nah." Vilkas smiled at his little girl. Patting her on the back. "Its normal. I was like that when I was your age. When my old clan and Levallen came together to marry off a handful of their kids. It's something you'll grow out of when you're married- Not a kid anymore."
"Pleeeaaasseee, tell me you're not going to ask about my marriage." Keyleth pleaded. "I don't- Oh, god."
The two stopped. The smell of death, rot and ash filled the air. It wasn't old. It was heavy. The scent of soot was everywhere. Vilkas turned toward its source. He remembered; Bleeding. Pain. Sightless. But he remembered. A funeral pyre. One for the fallen. One for the horde. All in one spot. The monsters were victims too. The Hunt-master took in two full lung's worth. Sickly. Oily. Wrong. The stench overpowered everything else.
"Monsters." Vilkas grumbled. Anger and fear in his heart. The old man reached out his hand, quickly finding Keyleth. The Hunt-master grabbed his daughter's hand with his left. Gripping his knife with his right. "We have other things to worry about. Like how a chunk of our marriage age boys are a pile of ash right now."
Father and daughter both turned to the opposite side of camp. The remains of the funeral pyre laid there for all to see. But instead of the markings of hate and pain, there were tributes of loss and faith in its ash. The monsters were victims too.
Vilkas sighed. Just like that, the two continued their trek in silence.
It didn't take long before a familiar 'I'm smarter than you' crankiness filled the air. Though to Vilkas' surprise, it was contested with equal amount of 'you're not the boss of me' complaining. The complaining rivaled the crankiness. Vilkas had never seen that... and he probably never would.
"What's going on?" Keyleth asked, leading her father to what sounded like the keeper's tent.
"Here we go." Vilkas sighed. The chimes of Dirthamen clanging to the side on the charm post. Something each keeper used to 'guide the curios to knowledge' or whatever. Well, it sounded like it. The chimes were easily being overpowered by two cats hissing at each other over territory in the background- Elf women. Keyleth opened the tent flap and tugged Vilkas in. "Dezz-"
"I am not going to eat that slop!" A disgruntled, angry voice spat. Vilkas could hear an arm shooting up and pointing at something. The rattling of Grey warden chain mail was hard to miss. Vilkas guessed it was one of the newcomers. "And you cannot force me."
"No, but I am tempted to gag you." The low, deadpan voice of Destinna announced. She was standing at the far end of the tent.
Keeper tents were large by most Dalish standards. They had all the important shi- sacred items and recovered research on our people's history and magic. If Vilkas could open his eyes without them bleeding, he would have seen the near endless piles of books, vials, wands and other scary magic stuff that made no sense. Vilkas was the Hunt-Master of his clan, All but its second in command. He was lucky to have a tent half that size. Even then it was pretty spacious and bare by comparison. Vilkas had only met so many Keepers. The inside of their tents even less. Vilkas always wondered if full tents were a keeper thing, or a Destinna thing. The woman always was a pack rat, even during her apprenticeship.
"Uhhh, Keeper wha-"
"There you are. Get over here." Destinna ordered, grabbing Keyleth's arm and pulling her toward where she was standing before. Vilkas heard the keeper shove something in her apprentice's hands. "Hold this and keep it in front of her. I don't want to lose a finger."
"She's not going to bite me?" Keyleth asked, equal parts surprised and scared. "Is she?"
"If that's what it takes for her to finally shut her mouth, I'm willing to risk it." Destinna answered, her voice as dry as the summer sun. Vilkas snorted, knowing his old friend was kidding. Though, if it turned out she wasn't- the clan's Keeper would lose a tooth for every finger lost. Her, and their guest. Saved their clan from extermination or not. No one hurts Vilkas' little girl.
"Please, love." A deep, smooth, and concern voice asked. It was low to the ground. Vilkas heard the shifting of dirt and sand. The man was on one knee. He was in front of the other guest. Similar rattling of polished chain mail filled the tent at the move. It was the other guest. The human. "You need to eat."
"I am eating fine." The first guest, the elf woman, spat-defensively. Vilkas heard the sound of someone biting off a chunk from salted meat. Some chewing. The woman swallowed- loudly. She wanted them all to hear. 1. 2. 3. Gurgling sound and then- BLURGH! Something went into what sounded like a bucket. "I-It tastes worse coming back up... I'M EATING FINE!"
"It's been hard for Velanna to keep anything down." The second guest explained. Vilkas heard the man grab hold of the charming Velanna's hand. He couldn't see or hear it, but Vilkas knew they both gently squeezed. He remembered it himself. Long ago. Just before his daughter was born. Vilkas felt a happy smile on his face. "Food or water. Nothing stays down for long. At least, not on our own. Every time we visit a village or town, we buy correct supplies. Usually from women merchant or a man shopkeeper's wife. But its... been a while. We've recently run out."
"Shut up, Nathaniel Howe." This 'Velanna' spat. Vilkas could practically hear her scowling at the poor man. Then she took another bite. Gurgle. Blurgh. Bucket. "Y-You did this to meeeeee..."
Vilkas laughed. It was a deep happy one. The old Hunt-Master heard Destinna herself snort a quick one.
"Stubborn one, isn't she?" Vilkas laughed again. The angry poor woman tossed her salted meat at him. The Hunt-Master smelled the good meat coming at him. He opened his mouth, and ate it. "Hmmmm, tough stuff. You must have a strong jaw!"
"That she does." This Nathaniel said. Vilkas could hear the smile in his voice.
"From her endless jabbering, no doubt." Destinna sighed. The pregnant woman demanded her mate hand her something else to throw. Vilkas had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing again. Oh, yes. He liked this one. Vilkas heard Destinna do some shuffling. Some pouring into a wooden bowl. "Here, eat this and the vomiting will stop- for now."
"Please, love." Nathaniel pleaded. "For my sake. It can do no harm."
"You're not the one that has to eat it." Velanna grumbled, reluctantly grabbing the bowl. Vilkas heard some very forced and quick biting, chewing, and swallowing. Thankfully, no gurgling and blurghing. She was keeping it down. "I remember the women in my old clan when they were forced to eat such rotten gruel. They always complained. You'd think someone would do something about the taste… So chunky."
"Your first?" Destinna sighed, turning toward the man at the woman's feet. "Always the easiest."
"Yes, it is our first." Nathaniel answered, quiet and obvious fear and delight in equal measure. The man offered the mother of his unborn child a flask. Vilkas heard water inside it.
"This 'rotten gruel' never tastes any better- we've ALL tried, but it'll stay down and allow you to consume more food." Destinna explained, as if to a small child that had been put in the corner. Which, in a way, she was. Firs time parents might as well be children fumbling in the dark. Vilkas remembered when Keyleth was born. Oh boy. "Though you did answer our question. You really are Dalish- or were."
"The both of you sound to be the right age." Vilkas announced. Stepping a foot further into a tent. He hit his shin against something hard. The Hunt-Master failed to hold in a curse. "Dread wolf spit! Anyway, I can guess you joined the wardens around the time of the blight?"
There was rustling of polished chain mail. The two wardens turned to look at each other. More rustling. One sighed. The other shrugged.
"Yes." Nathaniel answered. Calm command in his voice. He was high-born. "We both had lives before the wardens, but... once you're in you don't leave. Even after the danger has passed. "
Velanna snorted, forcing down the last of the bowl's contents. Tossing it aside.
"That explains one thing." Destinna shook her head, sharply pointing at Velanna's stomach. "But not this." The two wardens stopped. Frozen. "I thought the wardens forbid such unions in its ranks."
"There... is no rule against it." Nathaniel answered coolly, his voice neutral. Vilkas heard the man's chain mail rattle as he put his hand on the woman's pregnant stomach. Velanna put both her hands over his. "Though it rarely happens."
Vilkas smiled- then he felt Destinna put her hands on her hips. The 'you fucked up- bad' stance. He didn't need his eyes or ears to know she was doing it. Vilkas knew it well. His favorite was when they both got the news that a fling between a certain freshly graduated full hunter and an escaped circle of magi apprentice had produced... results.
"You." Vilkas knew Destinna was glaring at Velanna, pointing at Nathaniel. "And him!"
"That!" Velanna spat, shooting up to her feet. "That is none of your business, you witc- Ohhh, dizzy."
Vilkas could hear the poor warden wobble on her feet. The high-born warden stood up as well, helping his woman back to her cot. The two lovers held each other in their arms.
"What do the shem's call it, drama-queen?" Destinna groaned, rolling her eyes- probably. As was Velanna's glaring- probably. Vilkas matched Nathaniel's smile.
"E-Enough, all of you out. You as well, love." Velanna declared, a deep tiredness in her voice. Vilkas heard her man help Velanna lay down. "I desire rest. I cannot do that when people are watching over me like a piece of roadkill, waiting to see if it'll die or not."
Without a word, they all granted her wish and left the tent. Though, Vilkas did hear his daughter set the bucket down next to Velanna's cot. Smart girl.
"Two hours." Destinna sighed, the clanging of her mage staff prodding the ground as they walked. "Two soul-destroying hours! Just to shut her up and eat a bowl of brown. May the dread wolf take that woman!"
"You should've been there for her last birthday." Nathaniel snorted, his voice deep and smooth. More than a hint of love. "All for a slice of cake."
"You, warden." Destinna spat. Pure, homicidal, false wrath in her voice. "Mother of your child or not. Savior of my clan or not. I will stab that woman."
"You would not be the first." Nathaniel replied, iron velvet in his voice. Equal parts love and steel. Vilkas heard Keyleth's ears twitch at that- what. "Though, Velanna has a habit of stabbing first, and she is never alone."
"Ohhh, I like this one." Vilkas laughed. "Quite the pair you two are."
"We are surprised ourselves." Nathaniel stated, looking back toward the Keeper's tent. "Have no doubt."
"I meant Destinna and Velanna." Vilkas announced, all eyes turned to him. "You two have so much in common. Its amazing you don't get along Dezzy."
A small round of snorts and giggles from the group. Even Destinna shrugged at the point.
"How many times must I say it?" Dezzy demanded, desperate for any outlet for her frustration. "It is Keeper Destinna Istimaethoriel. You will address me as such."
"How many times must I tell you?" Vilkas demanded back, a mocking smile on his face. They've had this argument so many times. It was a game by this point. "It's too long. And your nickname sounds like Dizzy. So its fun! Day one. First conversation. Really set the tone. Right out of the gate."
Destinna grumbled, the group laughed.
"So, Vilky. Why are you being led around by my apprentice?" Dezzy hissed, living up to her name. "You know where you should be."
Vilkes turned back toward the cot he'd been rotting in since the battle. It was in the healing area. Cots. Sleeping bags. One just a bearskin rug. All filled with the wounded. Surrounded by the hunters of three clans playing guardsman... and executioners. There were more than needed. Not too many wounded after that battle. The pile of ash from the funeral pyre was bigger.
"Oh yes, I know." Vilkas said, pointing at the healing area. The blind man guessed he was a bit off. "The wounded of Clans Lavellan, Alerion, and Sabrea. All shoved into a little box." Vilkas spat. The need to rip his hair out returning- with a vengeance. "Do you know what finally put me to sleep last night, Dezzy? Dum-Dums wondering if Falon'Din and Dirthamen were brothers or just friends- oh, and they were totally fucking."
"Fu-Fu- what?" Keyleth stuttered, startled. "They did that. Friends or brothers?"
"Don't answer that!" Destinna ordered, swatting Vilkas' arm.
"Who won the actual argument?" Keyleth asked.
"Don't answer that either." Destinna declared, glaring at her apprentice. Keyleth turned her head away, whistling- innocently.
"Destinna Istimaethoriel." Vilkas shook his head. "An excellent Keeper of knowledge. Buuuuut, she hoards the answers to people's questions."
"...So you do know my name." Destinna folded her arms. "Well, answer the question."
"We've got a bunch of wounded, with nothing to do!" Vilkas spat, allowing his anger and frustration to show. "In a disaster zone. Don't let the nonsense fool you. All of us are worrying about those creatures that almost killed us." Vilkas pointed to himself and Destinna. "We both had enough of that during the blight. A man can only hear the same babbling so many times before he rips his ears off!"
"Then why did you come to her?" A mocking, deep, rich voice asked to the side. The group turned. It was the final newcomer. The one that wasn't a warden. That Elven warrior with the spiky black armor and glowing Vallaslin. The warrior's voice was still unfamiliar enough, but Vilkas knew armor. Their clangs were unmistakable. Especially something so custom made. Judging by its sound, the warrior was leaning against a tree. Vilkas wondered if his arm was still in a sling.
"Now why are you up?" Destinna asked, just as annoyed at this newcomer as she was with Vilkas. "You and our Hunt-Master should be in the healing area."
"I wanted to keep my ears." The warrior deadpanned. Vilkas heard him pointing to Nathaniel. "And I killed those Darkspawn. I'm going to get paid for it. Now."
Without any fanfare, the high-born warden tossed a small bag of coins to the warrior. He caught it in one swift motion.
"You are a true mercenary, aren't you?" Nathaniel asked, more neutral than accusing. "Surrounded by monsters and all you can think about is getting paid."
"What can I say, I'm friends with a dwarf." The warrior said, securing his payment. The group was not amused. Vilkas could hear his glare in return. "The world is filled with monsters. Just ask the Dwarves, or Tevinter, or Kirkwall. Even your own precious Amaranthine, Commander Nathaniel Howe. If you don't demand payment, you'll never get it."
Everything fell silent after that.
What was there to say?
The warrior shook his head at them and turned to leave. Deciding that was all the talk required.
"Wait." Keyleth announced. Her first words since the keepers tent. The first walked up to the front of the group, mage staff in hand. "Wait, Mr... Giant sword stabby guy-"
"My name is Fenris." The elf warrior declared, annoyed.
"Oh, F-Fenris... Nice name." Keyleth stuttered, her ears twitching. Embarrassed. Vilkas' eyebrow twitched. "A-Are you just going to leave us?"
"Yes." Fenris answered, bluntly.
"Those... monsters are hunting us." Keyleth pleaded. "Elves. Aren't you even a little worried about your people?"
"My people?" Fenris turned around. Vilkas could feel him staring hard at his daughter. The Hunt-master put a hand on a knife hidden on his person. One of many. "My people, are in Tevinter. They have collars around their necks. They are forced to call mages master. They are not fools who waste their 'freedom' spitting self-righteous spite about dead gods and buried glory with every breath."
"Tevinter." Destinna said, in a thinking tone. "Collar. That is where you received your markings? Through Tevinter magics? Just from here I can see they're made from lyrium."
"A child could've told you that." Fenris dismissed. "What do you know of it?"
"There were tales from when the Dales were still a kingdom." Destinna explained, the sound of magical flames began burning in the circular tip of her mage staff. Vilkas shook his head. His old friend always did like doing that when she was 'teaching'. "Old Arlathan had warriors of myth. An army's worth. Enhanced strength and magic. Their 'legion of legend'."
"Y-You never told me that." Keyleth stammered, disappointed.
"My first, you are only halfway through your apprenticeship." Destinna sighed, annoyed. "There are many old legends. I will tell you of them later."
"Those legends are dead and forgotten for good reason." Fenris spat, pure contempt in his voice as he turned back around. "Those are your stories, not mine."
"Fenris." Keyleth pleaded. "Wait-"
"Let him go." Vilkas sighed, folding his arms at the heartless mercenary.
"Indeed." Nathaniel agreed. "His contract his over-"
"His contract." Keyleth spoke, like a child that just shot down their first bird. "Its not over. The contract was to kill Darkspawn, right? Did those monsters act like Darkspawn? No, they didn'-"
"If I cannot fulfill my contract, it is void regardless." Fenris explained without heat.
"You're a mercenary, right?" Keyleth asked. Vilkas hoped it was rhetorical. "You care about your reputation. You have to. Who's going to hire you again after word gets out that you took payment without actually doing what you were hired for?"
That got everyone's attention. The Keeper and the Warden smiled at each other. Vilkas was beaming as he heard the mercenary turn around. The Hunt-master kept his hand on his hidden dagger. Smile or not, he was ready.
"I could fix that little problem just by killing all of you." Fenris announced, his good hand gripping the handle of the giant sword strapped to his back. The group was not impressed. Even if the mercenary was fresh, he was standing in the middle of three Dalish clans. All ready for battle. A warden of equal skill would stand with them. Besides, Vilkas knew he wasn't serious. If he was, Fenris wouldn't have said anything. He would've just started. Vilkas hoped Keyleth knew that. If not, she was standing her ground in the face of this battle hardened warrior. Vilkas was proud. Fenris sighed, letting go of his sword. "What do you want from me?"
"Aid us in our-"
"Not you." Fenris announced, cutting off the warden. His employer. "Her."
"Help my clan." Keyleth announced back. "It takes three of our hunters to fight one of those monsters. Even our best barely survived a one-on-one duel. Fenris, you're the only one we've seen kill so many- and fast. Either defend our camp until they leave the forest, or help our fighters hunt down the last of those monsters."
"Just one." Fenris shook his head. "Attack or defend, not both"
"I'lllll, leave that up to you." Keyleth said, unsure. "Which ever is faster."
"You're better at negotiation than your teacher." Fenris eyed Destinna. The warrior sighed in defeat. "I accept your terms. I will aid in your fight. We will kill the monsters."
"Great!" The first cheered. "Names Keyleth, by the way.
End of chapter.