AN: An early update because I'm busy tomorrow.
With the dramatics of your search for Chasind over, you turn your thoughts towards something more related to the reason you came. The taint of the darkspawn has come up several times now. You believe it is spread through the blood of the creatures. As a result, you decided that you want to study said blood in more detail.
Unlike when you have examined the nature of this world previously, there is a straightforward path to understanding before you. First you must acquire blood, in significant quantities, and then you will apply various tests to it. Refreshingly straightforward, to the point of being reminiscent of your childhood attempts at understanding.
Your first interesting discovery is entirely accidental. It seems that your blade is antithetical to darkspawn blood. In your past encounters with the darkspawn you had noticed the blood evaporating from your blade, but had assumed it was related to the Light of the Eldar.
That was until you ambushed a lone darkspawn. After impaling it on your blade, the reddish black blood still bubbled and turned to black vapour. You stare at your blade for a moment, then fight the urge to strike your head.
"The blood carries the taint." You say to the empty air.
Your blade, ensorcelled as it is against Morgoth and all his designs, is fighting the taint. Does that mean that the taint effects steel as well as flesh?
Carefully you reach down and pick up the creature's weapon. True to your hypothesis, you feel a slight sting from simply holding it. Further, it seems that the taint is attempting to do something to you, as an ache spreads up your arm. After a few minutes of examination, the ache fades and the stinging stops.
By that point the blade has become noticeably more worn, and dark patches on its length reveal themselves to be rust. You sigh and turn back to the village you came from. If you do not want to lose most of the blood from the darkspawn you kill, you will need a weapon that will not burn it. Not to mention some kind of container to hold it.
An hour later with a bronze dagger and a number of containers for liquid that nobody wants to use again you begin. Picking off occasional darkspawn and filling containers with their blood is an unpleasant task, one you dearly wish you could skip over. If you ever tell this story to someone else, you resolve to go into as much detail as possible simply to make them suffer as you have suffered.
You trudge back to the village with full containers, feeling a combination of bitter and exhausted. The containers are heavy and the marsh remains a land designed exclusively to cause suffering to all those who dwell within it.
Once you have returned to the village you end up performing your experiments in a hastily constructed lean to. Nobody in their right mind would allow the taint to be studied anywhere they wanted to use in future. Bent nearly double over a table, lit only by a single lamp, you begin.
Initial observations reveal that the blood is, as noted before, significantly darker than most living creatures' blood, even accounting for clotting. Which incidentally, darkspawn blood seems incapable of. None of what you have gathered seems to have hardened at all.
The blood is not flammable, it is solvent in water and, most importantly, seems to be composed of ordinary blood and some black substance that reminds you of orc blood, but concentrated to levels you had thought impossible.
Extending your senses to the tainted ichor is also enlightening. There is the obvious taint of darkness, but it is in the metaphysical aspects that the blood is strange. Everything exists for a reason. This manifests in your mind as a general sense of what something does.
This blood, when exposed to this sense, seems to exist solely to make more of itself. Fascinatingly, despite its clear corrupted nature, it seems to be natural. You cannot find any of the usual signs that something was made by someone else.
You can see how even someone well informed might assume that these things were created by the One. Fortunately, you have an additional perspective. The corruptive nature of the blood is reminiscent in many ways to Morgoth's creations.
Now that you know what the light of the Eldar does not do, it is time to ascertain what it does do. You quickly gather up a rough bowl you made; closer to a shallow depression in wood formed by an axe than anything else, as you have no patience for woodwork, and fill it with darkspawn blood. Then you simply call upon the light of the Eldar and see what happens.
There really is no need for anything more complex than that. While you wait, you will consider how you might investigate purifying the corruption in other ways.
Initial results are less than promising. The blackish red blood simply sits there seemingly unaffected. You examine it carefully, even risking breathing in the area to see if there is any of the black mist that caused you to expel darkness.
There seems to be none. In truth it makes some sense, the black blood of orcs has no reaction to the light either. It has something to do with the corruption being bound to a physical object rather than 'loose'. After nearly half an hour and no results, you decide to try something more… invasive.
The light of the Eldar cannot be concentrated or directed. It is more of a by-product of your existence than an ability you have. You do however have the ability to wield powerful purifying magic that is related, though distinct.
True unbinding of corruptive power or purification of an area can take a very long time, but given the amount present here you should be able to see some progress on the matter. You will admit, you have never attempted to use these abilities on blood, or for any other purpose than slowing the encroaching corruption from Angband, but you give it your best effort.
The results are mixed. You manage to 'purify' the bowl's contents somewhat, in the sense that there is less darkspawn blood when you finish than when you started. That is all, it seems that this blood acts very similarly to orc blood, if more contagious.
With the blood returned to the container it came from, you notice something interesting. You had assumed that objects that touched the corruptive fluid would be tainted. As far as your senses can tell, this is not the case.
The 'bowl' has not been tainted in any way you can detect. This seems to stand in contrast with the equipment that the darkspawn were using, which was tainted to greater or lesser degrees.
You pause your investigation; this line of inquiry seems a dead end anyway. Is darkspawn blood capable of tainting objects? The taint in the weapons and armour could be the result of their creation rather than being tainted by use. Now that you think about it, you do not have a great understanding of how darkspawn blood corrupts anyway. You cannot study both, the hour grows late, and both are quite time intensive.
Evora has watched you as you go to and from the village collecting darkspawn blood. Several times she attempted to lecture you on containment principles, but you have been handling Morgoth's taint since before her grandparents met. When it is clear that you do not need her to explain how to avoid poisoning the rest of the village, she settled for simply glaring at you while you work.
When the light of the Eldar fills the room, she lightens up, but her suspicion remains. While you examine the blood, she examines you and herself, trying to understand the Light. She is very interested by your attempts to cleanse the blood, and her suspicions begin to relax somewhat.
"How you do?" She interrupts your musings, pointing at the bowl
You pause, considering how to approach this. You doubt she wants, or would understand, the technical details. What she needs is an explanation of how it is possible in the first place.
"The Eldar fought the darkness from the moment we returned to mortal shores." You begin.
"Returned?" The healer interrupts.
"Yes," You reply, nonplussed. "Many of the Eldar left mortal lands to dwell in Valinor, now returning to my main point."
Evora does not let you get back on track. "Valinor? Is that in…Hide?"
The aged healer waves her hand around vaguely.
"The Hide? You ask, it sounded vaguely familiar; hide, disappear, fade. "The Fade?"
"Valinor is not in the Beyond. It is in a place where humans cannot reach." You say carefully. "It is hard to explain."
The woman glares at you, clearly unsatisfied.
With a sigh you continue. "Valinor is where the Valar, spirits that created the world, live. They invited us and some went, and others stayed."
The woman looks at you cautiously. "You live with gods?"
You pinch the bridge of your nose. "No. Valar are not gods."
The woman continues to glare at you but asks no further questions.
"If I can return to my point. Since we fought the darkness, we naturally needed ways to combat its taint in the earth and the sky, and the water." You explain.
You stumble through a rough explanation of the magic involved in purification, but the woman seems to be hardly listening. When you come to a stop, she asks you a question.
"You fight darkspawn long time?" Her eyes boring into yours.
You think for a moment, then reply. "Yes."
Technically you have not but explaining the difference between Morgoth's works and darkspawn is a little beyond her command of the language.
The woman nods and turns to leave. "Future, just say you warden."
"I am not a Grey Warden." You call, but if she hears you, she does not react.
With Evora gone you can now focus once more on the study of the darkspawn blood. Your questions about the nature of darkspawn weapons and the role of the taint in their construction are now at the forefront of you mind.
Does it need to be included in the forging? Perhaps the materials themselves are tainted. Deeper and deeper into your considerations you descend, examining the weapon you brought with you from ever more angles to try an understand.
"Húta si!1." You slam the blade into the table you have been using. "I need Kurvo!"
You have no experience with this kind of inquiry. Your best bet is to figure out what Kurvo would do if he were here. After a few moments of thought, you begin to laugh quietly to yourself.
"Well Nelyo, it's obvious." You imitate your brother's voice. "We simply create something with the blood, and see what happens."
Your first thought is to try making a bronze weapon with the blood. It should be relatively simple, you think. As far as you know bronze is simply melted and cast, and that should be well within your skill and the aid of the locals. There is only one problem. The forges are being shut down.
The Chasind are preparing to depart and moving things like smithing equipment takes a great deal of time and forethought. Thus, the one thing that you have the most confidence in understanding is denied to you. With forging no longer an option you see what other crafts are available to try this.
As it turns out the only craftsman who is both free at the moment, and willing to risk their materials in this endeavour is a potter. This does not exactly surprise you, as clay is probably the most abundant material in this marsh. Still, you watch him demonstrate how to use his spare wheel then take it back to your work area.
Mixing the blood with the clay is an exhausting process. Fortunately, you do not have to stop and expel corruption very often; as it seems the blood needs to enter the body to begin its corruptive process.
That said, you make many mistakes in mixing. Your fumbling attempts at using the wheel are their own disaster you do not care to recall. When the bowl is finished it is, most charitably put, beginners work. Fortunately, there is no need for great artisanship in this matter.
Examining the bowl with your senses you quickly determine that there is clearly something more than your lack of skill in this bowl's poor performance. Though it holds water, the water has a tendency to become filled with dark flakes.
Your first thought is that these are remnants of clay, you have not fired your bowl after all. Your senses quickly prove you wrong, the water is very lightly tainted. Taking a sip of it to be certain, alarm bells ring in your head and you are spitting it out reflexively without even a chance to swallow.
You grin to yourself. "Progress."
You make further attempts with other small trinkets. Weaving grass stained in darkspawn blood, filling channels of wood carvings with the blood and other such trinkets. Your discoveries are mixed.
There does not seem to be a direct correlation between the amount of blood and the amount of taint. There is some effect, less being less and more being more, but it follows no logical progression you can discern.
You wonder if it has something to do with the freshness of the blood, but you have no way to be certain since all your samples were retrieved at roughly the same time. One thing you do note, is that the blood needs to be included at the 'construction' stage, at least metaphysically. Simply dipping or smearing is not sufficient.
You would like to continue your investigations, but the light is fading fast, and tomorrow is the last day before the Chasind depart. You will need to scout the way, lest things go poorly. You look over the items you have made. Despite their cursed creation, a small part of you is still proud to have made them.
With a heavy heart you gather your various creations and all the darkspawn blood you have created. You place them in a pile and build the rest of the fire around them. A whisper of magic, and a ritual of purification later sees the cursed items slowly disintegrating in the cleansing flames. You watch, flames illuminating your face, until only ash remains.
Merrill had thought to maybe take up her teacher's work in his absence. It made sense to her, given that she would one day lead her clan. Yet she decided against it. There were a number of reasons, she did not want to take on the amount of work her teacher did, many of the jobs already had people ready to step in and take them over and the work itself was very boring and time consuming. Whatever her reasons she still wanted to do something this week. Fortunately, she'd had a plan in the works for a while now.
"So, we're doin' this then?" Ranger asks.
"Yes, just let me check that I've got everything." Merrill nods, going through her bag.
"So, what do ya need me for?" Ranger asks as Merrill inspected her gathering equipment.
"I already explained it to you!" Merrill exclaims. "Were you not listening?"
"I was listenin'." Ranger protests. "Ya just use fancy words that don't make much sense."
Merrill's ire was not so easily turned aside. "Nelyafinwë uses 'fancy words' basically all the time! You don't seem to have any trouble understanding him!"
"Nah." Ranger shakes his head. "Kid talks noble. All proper grammar and big words. Ya talk fancy. I don't even know what a 'ingredient procurement expedition' is meant to be."
Merrill finds herself once more forcing her temper under control. She is slowly adjusting to the need to keep a reign on her emotions, though she is far from perfect.
"I want ingredients to use in potions." She explains slowly, as though talking to a child. "In particular I'm looking for rare ones that make powerful potions."
"Ok yeah. Followin' so far, but where do I come in?" Ranger asks.
Merrill rolls her eyes. "I was getting to that. I know the conditions in which these things grow but I don't know where such conditions occur. I was hoping to lean on your understanding of the forest to find them."
Ranger scratches his chin through his beard. "Ok, so that makes sense. But why are ya not just sendin' me with a list?"
"Many of the ingredients I seek need to be harvested in certain ways or require specialist tools in order to not lose their potency." Merrill explains. "It is simply more efficient if we go together. It also allows us to cover each other in case of an attack."
Ranger nods. "Right, so what are we lookin' for?"
"I thought we would begin with something simple." Merrill says, repacking her bag. "I assume you know what elfroot is?"
Ranger grins. "Sure, ya want the grove with lots that's nearby, or the one with even more that's a bit of a hike."
Merrill gives the human a flat look. "The former obviously."
Merrill is a herbalist of no small skill. Potions to heal, to temporarily restore stamina or fade energy or to resist certain elements are all within her art. She has so far not been making any due to being busy with other things and the lack of ingredients. She is glad to see that her skills have not deteriorated, at least as far as collection goes.
"Ya sure ya don't want anymore elfroot. Plenty to go 'round." Ranger asks.
Merrill shook her head. "It was more of a test to see how well you knew your herbs. I came out here for something more exotic, and I don't want to waste space. Tell me if any of what I'm describing sounds familiar."
"Do you know the plant Thimbletug?" Merrill asks. "It's a cousin of spindleweed. It grows in marshy areas, and the spiked leaves are covered in very fine needles."
Ranger chews his lip thoughtfully. "I think I know what ya're talkin' about. Ma always warned us not to eat any."
"Great! Where is it?" Merrill cheers, it's always good when things are easy.
"'Bout three days journey south as the crow flies." Ranger states. "I grew up a little further south than we are now."
Merrill's joy crashes comically fast. "What! We can't spend a whole week looking for this! We'll come back to find that Xandar has turned the whole building into a shrine to a candle or something equally ridiculous!"
Ranger snickers at her comment, which Merrill finds quite rude. Xandar's antics are a genuine concern!
"Right, so I weren't actually thinkin' we'd go to the place I know." Ranger clarifies. "Figured I'd bring it up, cause I don't know any in the area. I'm goin' to need to actually find a place where it might grow."
Merrill glared at the human. "You could have said that first! Why are we wasting time like this?"
"Easy girlie." Ranger says coolly. "I'm on ya side, in case ya've forgotten. I told ya where is was cause ya asked. Remember?"
Merrill's face flushed and she ducked her head to hide the fact. "Sorry. I didn't mean to… I'm sorry, I'm kind of off balance right now."
"'S fine." Ranger grumbles. "Let's just find this Thibletug."
"I think we're going in circles." Merrill opines.
"Girly, I know it looks like it, but I guarantee that it's thinkin' like that that gets people lost in forests." Ranger sighs.
"Don't lecture me about forests." Merrill hisses. "In case you've forgotten I grew up in forests all over the world. And I say that the pattern of repeating terrain is common in going in circles."
Ranger stops and sighs. "Ya're not wrong. Thing is, I've been keepin' track and we ain't turnin'. So my guesses are either a completely unique kind of repeating terrain, or magic shenanigans."
Merrill tries to extend her senses, like she'd been practicing, but Brecilian is so full of magic, between the werewolf curse, the sylvans and Nelyafinwë's everything that she cannot tell if the magic around her indicates anything.
"I can't tell if this is magic or not." Merrill informs her companion. "There's too much ambient fade energy, it could be anything."
Ranger stares at her uncomprehending. "This is what I mean when I say ya talk weird."
Merrill sighs. "The forest is so full of magic it's impossible to tell if this is a spell."
Ranger nods. "Makes sense. So, what's the plan? How do we get out if it's magic?"
"Well that would depend on the spell. It can be pretty involved." Merrill admits. "What if it's not though? What do we do if it's just weird terrain stuff?"
Ranger looks around. "I've tried most of the tricks that would get us through somethin' like that. Odds are it's magic, and if it isn't we need to turn back anyway."
At this point their conversation was interrupted.
"Hello mortals." A voice echoes between the trees. "It has been a while."
Merrill and Ranger look around as the voice speaks. Eventually their eyes are drawn to a figure slowly appearing between the trees. The creature has golden skin and eyes facing in all directions. Two horns of glittering brass sweep down the 'sides' of its face. As it speaks, its many mouths move in rapturous smiles.
"Demon." Merrill hisses.
Ranger curses, and the demon smiles.
"Oh Merrill." It says. "Your words wound me. I thought we were friends. After I shared my most precious memory with you too."
Ranger looks at Merrill in confusion, but the elf's eyes widen in understanding. Then her expression twists in fear.
"Joy?" She asks, voice trembling.
"Not exactly." The creature giggles. "Delusion, more properly, I think. Or perhaps Obsession? It is a little hard to tell these days."
Glancing between mage and demon, Ranger draws his crossbow. "Little explanation for the rest of us, girlie?"
"The spirit you ran into, the spider one. It's become a demon." Merrill quickly explains.
"Oh now, that's not nice." The demon laughs. "I may have changed, but I'm still a spirit."
"What do we do, girlie." Ranger asks nervously. "Ya're the expert here."
Merrill swallows a few times, breathing deeply as her heart races.
"We're probably caught in one of its illusions." She breathes, fighting to still her trembling hands. "I can try to break it, I had nearly managed it last time."
Ranger nods. "I'll keep ya safe while ya do that."
Merrill breaths deeply to steady her nerves. Despite the memory of facing similar trials in the past she cannot seem to be calm. Her thoughts keep racing to the Incident, then to the last time she faced this creature. She tightens her knuckles on her staff and tries to focus on the magic. She can sense it now, all around her. There is so much of it, and it is so layered and complex. Her breath starts to come faster again. Distantly she notes she's panicking. She glances at Ranger, who is clearly nervous, but has placed his faith in her. She tries to still her breath and begins to cast her spell.
Unpicking the weave of the illusion is complex, partly because it is linked to her mind rather than her senses and partly because of its inherent complexity. Still, she should be able to…
"Now, now, Merrill. Let's not have any of that." Delusion purrs. "Why struggle? I assure you, you will not be hurt."
Merrill tried to block out his words, to focus on the magic. But it was so hard, where had she been just now? Right, she had been about to…
"Why do you ignore me Merrill?" Delusion once more interrupted her thoughts. "Didn't we bond? Didn't you enjoy our chat? Surely you have more questions."
No it was too distracting, she needed to focus.
"Ya leave her alone ya bastard!" Ranger roared
Ranger looses his bolt at the demon. He's not quite sure what's going on. All he knows is that demons are bad news, and the one is clearly trying to do something to Merrill. The bolt streaks across the clearing and strikes a tree.
"Oops. You missed." The creature speaks from behind him.
Ranger reaches for his knife, whirling around, but he is too slow. The creature catches him in some kind of vine, or something. It drags him to the ground, preventing him from moving.
"Oh Mythal!" Merrill begins, but to no avail.
Without Ranger's protection, she does not have enough time. Golden vines bind the elf alongside the human.
"There we go." Delusion chuckles. "Much better. Now all we need to do is wait for Knowledge to ride to the rescue once more. We'll have such FUN."
1 Curse this.