You overhear the werewolves talking to each other. A group of human bandits have made a home in the forest and have been attacking those who travel either through the forest or along its edge.
As you listen Merrill asks, "Aren't those the same bandits the hunters have been keeping an eye on?"
You nod, they are. It could be that there is a second band that is largely identical, or it could be that the bandits are on the move through the forest. In the end it does not matter. The werewolves are becoming worried that they are going to be attacked, and you owe them. If you can ensure that they are not attacked, then you will have partially atoned for your own reckless assault upon them earlier. You tell Merrill where you are going. She asks to accompany you, either worried for your safety or hoping to see your magic in action. You do not really care which it is, but you agree to end her pestering.

The journey to where the bandits were last seen is a tense one. You have previously noted how dangerous this part of the forest is, particularly when you are not escorted by a party of werewolves. More than once you are nearly ambushed on your walk, but between your wariness and Merrill occasionally casting a spell you manage to avoid or scare away all who would threaten you. You come upon the bandit camp in one of the areas that are more lightly forested. It reminds you a great deal of an orc camp. There are no defences of note and the small party of maybe a dozen atani cluster around a small fire. They have no tents; a canvass has been stretched between trees to cover a number of bedrolls. The camp itself is a mess, belongings scattered around with no clear organisation. There is only a single sentry leaning against a tree, looking in the wrong direction to see you. In truth, all it is missing is the foul scent and you would feel as though you beheld an orc camp from Beleriand. From the mutters among the bandits, they are displeased with the 'thin pickings' of the last few weeks. You note that they are largely very thin and poorly armed. None have armour worth speaking of and there are maybe two swords and only three bows among them. You can choose how to deal with them, and you are not eager to rush into a situation you do not understand again. You are going to talk to them, try to turn them from their path.

You turn to Merrill and say, "Stay here. Be ready to cast a spell if things turn violent."
Merrill looks up at you and asks, "Are you doing something reckless again?"
You chuckle softly. "I am intending to try to talk to these atani if that is what you are asking. It is not reckless in this case. I know for certain they can understand me, and I doubt they are much of a threat."
Merrill still looks nervous but says, "Do you want me to cast flaming weapon on you just in case?"
Fire is certainly impressive looking, though personally you doubt it will do much if it comes to a fight. You nod at Merrill; it will make her feel better and the sight of a flaming sword will only make your opponents less willing to fight you. Flames run up your sword from hilt to tip. It is, as you expected, an impressive sight. Nodding to Merrill in gratitude you step out of the trees and reach the edge of the bandit camp unchallenged. Amused slightly by their complete lack of competence you walk right up to the group and swing your sword idly through the air. The sound and sight of flames fluttering on your blade catches the attention of several of the bandits, who quickly bring the others' attention to you.

You smile widely and speak in a genial tone. "Gentlemen! I was hoping to run into you. We need to have words you and I."
One of the bandits rushes to draw his knife but is met with your flaming blade at his neck.
As he flinches away from the heat you continue to speak as though you were all old friends. "I do hope we can keep this discussion civilised. I would hate it if anyone were to be hurt on my account."
A few minutes of scanning them to ensure that they are suitably cowed and then you continue, "I must confess to no small amount of disappointment. I hear that you have been robbing travellers who pass your way. This is certainly not the kind of behaviour I expect from you. If you had been met with great success and wealth I would understand, it is human nature to covet after all."
At this point you pause to look around the camp meaningfully. "But that does not seem to be the case. I am afraid I must ask you to cease your behaviour immediately."
"Or what? You'll tell the village watch. How're the Templar gonna feel when they hear that there's an apostate out here." One of the larger bandits says with bravado designed to cover his fear.
"Are you suggesting that I should kill you all to prevent them ever finding out?" You ask lightly. "Besides I am no apostate, I am not even a mage. Your Templars will not care."
Your comment has the bandits looking around the forest, presumably trying to find the mage that placed fire on your blade. You can tell that the realisation that there is at least one more combatant in the forest, one who is also a mage, has broken the last of their resistance.
"What are we supposed to do, it's not like we've got anything to go back to. If you turn us in, they'll hang us and if we go home, we'll starve." One of the thinner members pipes up, his hand raised in the air.

Finally, a useful question, one that you must consider your answer to. Inspecting the men before you closer does indeed reveal that few are well fed. Most of their clothes are either riddled with holes or crudely patched. The Dalish are not an option given both their treatment of you and the things you have heard of Zathrien. The best thing for them is to be. You decide that what these people need is guidance. You tell Merrill to come join you. The group of humans seem heartened when there are only two foes, but another swing of your burning blade puts an end to any plans to attempt violence.
"Now gentlemen." You say pleasantly, "We will be escorting you to a safer place, one with water if nothing else. There we will teach you the very basics of survival so that such deplorable actions as you have taken need not be repeated."
There is some grumbling, but they follow you and Merrill to the river where you endeavour to teach them the basics of survival.

Once you reach the river your first task is to build some proper shelters. There is plenty of wood around, but without axes you can only build with smaller branches. The results are, in essence, tents stretched over wooden frames. You build two each to hold six men. They are not the most comfortable but with canvass walls and a solid frame they should not fly away in wind and be warm and dry. You also make sure to help them plan and dig latrines, stressing what a bad idea it would be to use buckets that are then dumped in the river they drink from. You then spend the rest of the day covering the basics of hunting. You show them how to make snares for small game and the places where they would be best placed. You help them make a schedule and demonstrate the construction of a basic hunting spear. You have some concerns about them taking this new base and better conditions and using them to increase their capacity for banditry; so you take some time to speak to them to ensure they know of the consequences of doing do.

"Now gentlemen." You begin, your sword now sheathed. "We have generously provided all that you will need for survival in this bountiful forest. I have shown you how to build a town and weapons. Should you take this knowledge and use it to continue your previous behaviour, we will not be talking again."
There is some eye rolling and general contempt for your warning that you allow to build, specifically so that your next words hit with maximum impact. "Because I will kill you."
The group falls into shocked silence as you continue. "I could have killed you today, indeed many of my brothers would say I should have. I spared you and taught you a better way. You no longer have an excuse for wickedness. So if I return, it will be to end you."
There is some muttering and shuffling and then someone calls out, "You can't leave us here. Sure, we might not die today but we can't live in tents and hunt for the rest of our lives."
You pause, considering his words, they are at a very rudimentary level right now and it would be irresponsible to simply leave it here. "Very well. As an additional incentive, should you behave, I will return to aid you in improving your living situation further."
You cast a measuring eye over the group before continuing. "I have planned out cities in the past, I assure you that I can help you turn this small settlement into a town to be proud of."
There are no cheers but there is a general atmosphere of positivity as you and Merrill take your leave.

One of the werewolves, who calls himself Gatekeeper, approached you after you had returned from your disastrous hunting trip. He informs you that Witherfang wishes to speak to you. He also delivers a dire threat to come back from the Fade itself for vengeance should you harm them. You admire his loyalty, though you doubt he could meaningfully harm you. You are led down to the lowest floor of the ruins. Gatekeeper accompanies you with two other wolves to meet with Witherfang. The room you find yourself in a circular room with a mosaic pattern on the floor. A great dome soars high above you. It would be a breathtaking sight if it were not for the roots that push through walls and the ivy that covers much of the art in the room. In the centre of room stands a creature you do not recognise. She appears largely like a human, save for the green skin. Yet the branches that entwine around her limbs and seem to make up her hands combine with her eyes, black in their entirety with no white, to indicate otherwise. Even had she appeared entirely human there is no mistaking the power you feel pulsing around you.

As you draw near her, she speaks her voice strangely familiar, "I bid you welcome cousin. I have long felt your approach, and I desire your aid."
Your guard is now thoroughly up, Ñolofinwë's daughters were all accounted for when you fell, and cousin Artanis would never begin a conversation with you so civilly. There is no way this creature is anything you call cousin.
This in mind you respond, "I know each of my cousins, yet I do not know you. Who are you to speak to me in so familiar a manner? Further, I was told I was to meet with Witherfang yet I see no one here aside from you."
The wolves who accompanied you shift about, the creature raises one of her branch hands and they cease their movements. "I am the lady of the forest. I am also the one they call Witherfang. I am the forest itself. I am a spirit as you are, though I know not your nature. If my manner of address offends it is easily changed. I would tell you of how I came to be Witherfang, as it relates to the aid I require."
This again? "I am no spirit. I am Nelyafinwë eldest of the sons of Fëanáro." You inform her.
She nods, "If that is how you wish to be addressed it is well within my power to do so. I would ask for your aid Nelyafinwë eldest of the sons of Fëanáro."
You gesture for her to continue. "I am listening, Lady of the Forest."
The 'Lady' smiles at you. "I confess that when you ignored my warnings to avoid the wolves and slew so many, I feared that you would refuse to aid me."
That is where you know her voice from. The wind carried warning from your first attempt to reach this place.
When you do not respond, the Lady continues. "We here are all afflicted by a curse. The Dalish keeper Zathrien summoned me in years long passed. He bound me to the form of a silver wolf, Witherfang. He had me spread a curse upon the humans who had offended him. By my bite they were cursed to take on the shape of beasts and lose their minds. But the beasts proved able to spread the curse as well. It has now spread well past those who Zathrien could claim enmity with, all those who stand before you accursed were born long after those he hated had passed. We would have you go forth to reason with him. Convince him to end the curse and release those bound by it."
Your view has narrowed in on Witherfang. She is a true Nauro, a spirit bound to a wolf's form. You do not know if you can trust what she says. Nauro do not maintain their intelligence but the spirits of Arda are usually those of the dead, not a sentient creature of another realm. You clamp down on your first reflex, which is to slay here where she stands, and force yourself to think.

You toy with the idea of agreeing and letting this Zathrien to confront the Lady of the Forest. You are certain that it would be a revealing meeting. If one or the other were to resort to violence you would be there to stop them or aid them as you deemed appropriate, so it would not be as dangerous as it seems at first glance. Tempting though this option is you eventually discard it. It could very easily be a trap and it is not as though you cannot do it later. For the moment you have a number of questions you wish to ask.
"Before I agree to anything I would like you to tell me a few things about this situation." You say as calmly as you can.
"Ask, I have nothing to hide." The spirit replies.
"Has your curse spread to Elves?" You ask.
"It is possible, though the curse has primarily affected humans, that is more a matter of location than anything else. We have considered infecting Zathrien's clan to force him to lift the curse, but your arrival has given us another option." The keeper states as though discussing the weather.
"Are any of your werewolves from Zathrien's clan?" A werewolf from the accused's clan would be a useful source of verification.
"None. It is possible that one has been infected in the past. If so, they have not come here." The Lady's complete lack of expressed emotion is continuing to throw off your sense for whether she is lying or not.

That line of questioning seems to be at a dead end, so you decide to move on. "This Zathrien. Tell me of him, his personality, his reasons for cursing you, if any of the other Dalish know of what he has done."
"Zathrien is the keeper of a local Dalish clan. I know little of his personality. I have only seen him at his worst moment. To explain I must tell you the tale of why he sought to wreak vengeance upon the humans. It is a tragic tale." The 'forest spirit' pauses at this point.
You have no idea what she is waiting for, so you say, "And that tale is…?"
"When Zathrien was much younger he had a son and a daughter. The two of them fell into the hands of a group of humans. His son was tortured until he died, though his daughter was rescued. Unfortunately, when she discovered that she had become pregnant with the child of one of the humans, she took her own life." You have to admit the calm, even tone with which the spirit speaks of such events is exceptionally disturbing.
Unaware of your thoughts she continues, "Zathrien was possessed by fury and madness and the curse was to be his vengeance upon the responsible. As all involved have been dead for a long time I know not why he allows it to persist. Perhaps his rage is not yet sated or perhaps he enjoys the extended life it grants him."
"Extended life?" You interrupt
"Yes, so long as the curse exists so too will he. The Dalish believe he has rediscovered their people's immortality, so I do not think they are aware of what he has done. His clan know of us, and while they usually avoid us, some clashes are inevitable." She responds.
You have to admit that this story certainly does not paint Zathrien in the most positive of lights. She is unlikely to be lying about things that are so easily verified, she even admitted that she only knows Zathrien at his worst. You are starting to lean towards believing her. Nevertheless, you know that the Enemy was ever gifted at making falsehoods seem true, so you continue your questions.
"How was the curse performed." It is perhaps the most important of your questions.
"I do not know." Is the immediate response. "Though I saw some of what was done I am of the forest, of nature. I know nothing of the ways of magic."
Well that makes your next question less helpful than you had hoped. "I have at my disposal magic such as the Dalish have never before encountered. It is possible that, should you be willing, I could cure you. I am certain I should be able to restrict its effects."
The Lady of the Forest smiles warmly at you. "As I have said I know nothing of magic. If you think you can cure us, I am willing to try. There is no need to waste your strength on restricting the curse, I am already doing so."

You had not expected this conversation to go the way it had. You are once more at a crossroad regarding what to do. The option of forcing a confrontation has not gone anywhere but given the revelations of this conversation it might be best to talk to Merrill before you go any further.

You could try to lift the curse yourself. It would be dangerous, especially since you know so little of the curses of this world. Even if they should be identical to the ones you know well, you would not have enough information to be confident in dispelling it. With that option close to you for now, you consider simply agreeing. You are not sure what else there is to learn on the matter. What stays you from this course is the same consideration as lifting the curse. You know little of how curses in this land work. For all you know, the Lady is lying and the curse is something she spreads naturally, the only thing keeping others safe is her being bound to this ruin. Perhaps Zathrien is not even the one who cursed her, Valar know you do not keep track of every mortal who looks just like their father. No it would be best to speak to Merrill, she will know of this land's curses and may even know Zathrien personally. He is a Dalish keeper and they meet semi regularly.
You incline your head in the Lady's direction. "I am afraid that, though your plight moves my heart with pity, I dare not take action just yet. What you have told me of Zathrien leaves me uncertain as to how he would react to an envoy on your behalf. I will take some time to consult with those who know him better and then make a decision."
The Lady seems saddened by your reply. "I would have you aid us without delay. I can forgive you your caution. I implore you to consider helping us before to long has passed. I weary of this curse and would have it end as soon as possible."
When you leave, the werewolves that entered with you follow you out again.

You walk up through the various levels of the underground ruins with as much haste as you can muster. You need to speak to your student before the spirit that leads these wolves grows impatient, and you know from experience that time does not mean the same thing to beings without a body. When you arrive at your camp you find Merrill is looking at a cooking pot with an intense expression.
Momentarily distracted from your task you ask, "What are you doing?"
Merrill starts, and stumbles over herself in her haste to turn and face you. "Oh. Teacher, sorry I didn't hear you coming. I'm cooking, well, and practicing. I was trying to see if I could improve in cooking the same way I did in horse riding."
You are pleased to have such an eager and dedicated student, you also make a mental note to give her another lesson before she gets herself into trouble. That is a task for another day though.
"I have some questions for you if you are not too busy." You say.
"Oh certainly. What about?" Is the instant response.
"Firstly I would have you tell me of curses. How are they cast? How would one break one?" You ask your student.
Merrill seems a little surprised. "That's a pretty niche subject. The short versions is that it's done pretty much like any spell. It's all energy of the Beyond reshaping reality. Curses are just another example, though harder to pull off than elemental magics."
You continue your questions, "Would a curse involve a spirit at any point?"
Merrill nods. "Oh yes, especially if you want it to last longer than a few minutes. A lot of the old, nasty curses are powered by some kind of bound spirit. It's not supposed to be done by anyone except blood mages, but strictly speaking spirit binding and blood magic are separate disciplines. They're just both dangerous so one usually goes with the other."
You smile at your student. "Thank you. Now I have another question, do you know a Keeper Zathrien? What can you tell me of him?"
Merrill looks at you, concerned. "Um. Why do you want to know?"
"If I tell you, it may bias your answer." You reply gently.
She chews her lip for a few seconds and then replies. "Zathrien is the keeper of the clan in this area, I don't remember their name. He's supposed to have rediscovered the secrets of Elvhen immortality. I don't know how old he is. As for him personally, I don't know he's stern? Serious? I know his first better than I know him, Lanaya, but I haven't spoken to her much either. She says he's very kind and that he saved her. Why did you want to know"
You look at Merrill and tell her, in as calm and neutral a manner as possible, "Witherfang is a spirit, allegedly of this forest. She has accused Zathrien of binding her to a wolf to spread a curse to humans. This curse resulted in them becoming wolf/man hybrids."
Merrill does not take the news well.