Buying and Selling

Delora feels light in a way she hadn't been expecting. The celebration last week, for all that it had been yet another human centric occasion, had carried an infectious cheer that she still carries with her half a week later.

"Someone's happy this morning." Martin says.

It is a sign of the city elf's good mood that she only rolls her eyes at him. "You're not exactly your usual grumpy self either."

"Yeah." Martin agrees. "It kind of feels like something that was nagging at me has been resolved. Like when you remember something you were forgetting, if you know what I mean."

Delora shrugs. "I guess, not really feeling it myself. Reckon it's got something to do with that fancy magic gem the ranger dame's been carrying about?"

"Could be, could be Nelyafinwë, could be just random good mood." Martin observes. "Frankly, I don't care where it's coming from, I'm just glad it's not as tense as last week."

The elf bites her lip, determined not to show any emotion. "Yeah. Course, I wasn't worried, but it was a hassle."

Martin raises a single sceptical eyebrow. "If you say so."

There's a long pause, both merchants looking toward the road, awaiting their customers.

"You don't think the Dalish will be sending more warriors?" Delora breaks the silence. "I heard they intimidate some of the staff, so it'd be better if they weren't."

Martin gives the elf a meaningful look, and she curses herself for speaking. Her throat dries as she waits for the inevitable mockery.

"Probably not." Martin says. "The Dalish don't like wasting their warriors on guard duty, since they're also their main hunters."

Delora blinks in surprise. "Ah, good."

The city elf is saved from further embarrassment by the arrival of the, mercifully unescorted, Dalish Merchants.

The Dalish depart with their usual load of fruit and a barrel or two of wine. Delora finishes double checking their money to make sure the 'merchants' haven't made off with more than their share.

"What I don't get." She comments to Martin as he loads the cart with wine. "Is why we buy herbs from them at full price, and then don't sell at a markup."

Martin grunts in exertion, lowering the barrel he is carrying onto the cart before replying. "Something about peaceful cooperation and creating closer ties between us and the Dalish."

"Ok sure, that's why his lordship wants it to happen." Delora says. "But there's nothing stopping us from charging an extra copper or two. It's not like us making an tiny profit would undo the 'bonding experience' or whatever."

"It's kind of a symbol of trust." Matin explains, leaning against the cart. "They'd give it to us to sell and we'd give them all the money we made from selling them. 'Course they don't exactly trust us not to screw them over, so we pay them now, and make up for it by selling it on."

"Seems weird. We're supposed to be merchants, not delivery people. Besides making a profit would teach them a lesson about not trusting us." Delora complains, closing the cash box.

Martin shrugs. "Yeah, but if we do that we prove them right, we would try to screw them. We play it straight and they realise they can trust us."

Delora chews her lip thoughtfully. "Ok, so what's stopping us from taking some, initiative on the matter? I mean, it's not like you care about making buddy buddy with the Dalish."

"If you want to simultaneously annoy the person who pays your salary and the elves who 'disappear' intruders into their forest, you are free to do so. Leave me well out of it." Martin responds with a harsh bark of laughter.

Delora winces at the thought and decides that it might be wiser to fetch the list of items needed.

"Human." Delora says.

Martin ignores her, continuing to do what he was doing.

"Human!" Delora repeats, louder now.

Still Martin ignores her, far too engrossed in what he is doing.

"MARTIN! Stop molesting the carts!" The elf yells, blushing fiercely.

The merchant was holding the cart as one would a child, at least as far as he was able. Several people were staring at this point, and Delora cannot believe that her senior is acting so undignified.

"How can you not be overcome with emotion at a moment like this?" Martin asks. "We now have four carts! You can take one, I can take one and we'll still have spares. Think of the time we'll save."

The elf runs a hand over her face, fighting back her embarrassment. "Sure, it's great, but it's not worth anything until we actually get back home. Stop doing, whatever this is, and let's focus on the actual problem."

"What problem are you talking about?" Martin asks.

"The workers are all elsewhere, so how are we going to get these carts back?" Delora says.

"I figured we'd use leading reins, and each take a cart at the front and back. That way someone can catch the carts if they're going off track." The human explains.

For a moment Delora is silent, baffled by his words. Then, like a teapot boiling, her anger erupts into a high pitched sound.

"You couldn't have told me that earlier?" She shrieks, face entirely red now. "I've been standing here fretting about something you had already solved? And that still doesn't explain why you're molesting carts!"

"Well, I just get emotional you know." Martin says, embarrassed. "I spent a lot of time with nothing but a hand cart, so seeing all this really makes me feel like I've made it. You know, like a real merchant."

Martin's explanation was insufficient to quell the anger of his elven assistant, and she spent the long, arduous, trip home berating him.

Keepersmoot

The day of the moot, as it is apparently called, arrives while you are still at Gladesville. You rise before the sun and ride for Lanaya's clan. Between the road you built and the speed of Orundómë, you make good time and catch sight of the pickets not too long after the sun rises.

For once the warriors of Lanaya's clan are not embarrassing themselves by failing to hide, but are standing openly in their best gear. You suppose it is intended to impress, but for your part it merely reminds you of the ridiculousness of Dalish armour.

"Nelyafinwë?" One of the guards asks when he sees you. "You can't come through today, it's a meeting of the Keepers, so no outsiders allowed."

You frown. "I am aware of the meeting, in fact that is what I am here for."

"Really?" Another guard asks.

"Yes. I was involved in the discussions with Marethari and Lanaya." You reply, "I would not say this meeting was my idea, but I was heavily involved with both its inception and its preparation."

The two guards share a meaningful look, then shrug.

"Sounds all a bit above my pay grade." The second says.

"Yeah, look, you go through and talk to the Keeper about it. I'd go with you, but I'm on strict orders to keep watch. 'Sides, you're not going to cause any trouble." The first agrees.

"That depends somewhat on your definition of trouble." You caution him, even as you urge Orundómë forward once more.

The two guards laugh bitterly as you pass them.

The camp has swelled with the guests and their guards. You suspect that, due in part to your relative proximity, you are the last to arrive. You see a number of elves in Keeper robes in small clusters of warriors, speaking to each other.

Lanaya finds you before you find her.

"What are you doing here?" She hisses. "This is Dalish business."

"I am unaware if Marethari told you, but I had some input into the concept, and I assumed that meant I would be involved." You reply calmly. "Further, this is a matter of no small import given our relations and the relative proximity of two Dalish clans to me. I felt that I deserved to observe at the very least."

Lanaya scowls "You thought wrong. Invitation only, now get out."

Before you can respond, Marethari's voice calls out. "He has an invitation."

Lanaya turns to face her fellow Keeper. "Is that so?"

"As a matter of fact, it is." The Sabrae leader responds. "I invited him here, due to his friendship with my clan, as well as the things he just mentioned."

Lanaya glares at you once more. "Very well. I will see you at the moot proper. Are you sure I cannot sway you on my proposal?"

"My answer has not changed Lanaya." Marethari responds chidingly.

Lanaya nods. "Then I must go speak to the others."

You watch the young Keeper walk away. "I did not expect such hostility from Lanaya."

"No, rather unexpected." Marethari agrees. "I wonder where it's coming from?"

"Only she knows, I suspect." You reply. "But enough on that matter, tell me how things have proceeded in my absence."

"Well, more people came than I thought." Marethari says, eyes sparkling. "Thelhen came all the way from the Dales, Ilshae too, though I haven't seen her first. Merrill even showed up sometime last night."

You blink. "I suppose it makes sense for her to attend, but I confess I had not given it much thought."

"Between you and I, I think she is using this as a chance to catch up with Lanaya and the other firsts more than anything else." Marethari says conspiratorially.

"I suspect you are underestimating her commitment to her people." You answer.

Marethari's gaze becomes distant and fond. "I suppose, I am. In truth after recent events I shouldn't. But to me she will always be that young child following me about and copying everything I did."

You nod. "It is hard to look at those you raised and see the adults they are and not the children you remember. That said, I think you should be proud of Merrill, she has become a fine Dalish."

"I am proud of her." Marethari says. "Still, it seems only yesterday…"

The Keeper trails off. You wait for her to resume talking, but when it becomes clear she will not, you decide to change the subject.

"Tell me more of the other Keepers. Lanaya was not too sure how many would come, but I take it there are quite a few." You prompt.

Marethari starts, then blushes. "Oh, right. I'm so used to everyone knowing everyone at these things. Well, Ilshae and Thelhen I've mentioned, Ilshae's clan sticks closer to humans then Zathrien or I are, or were in his case, comfortable with."

"You also mentioned her first is missing." You remind her.

"Probably got killed by a human." Marethari says. "Nothing good can come of being so reckless."

You give the elf a flat look, before returning to the subject. "What of the others, how many in total?"

"Eight, counting Lanaya and I." Marethari says. "There's Lemlan, Birava and Varis. Oh, and Gisharel I suppose. Though who invited him I have no idea."

"Where do they all stand on the issue at hand?" You ask. "What factions are present?"

Marethari raises an eyebrow at you. "That's a complex topic indeed. Not sure I have the time before the meeting begins. I could introduce you to them I suppose, but are you sure that's the best use of your time?"

Your thoughts flash to Lanaya's response to your arrival, and the conversation you had not too long ago on.

"You are quite right." You say. "I do have something I need to be doing."

"Oh?" Marethari asks teasingly. "What on earth could be more important than talking to us stuffy old keepers about our, no doubt very well thought out, positions on this monumental topic."

You give the elf a flat look. "I already intend to speak to Lanaya, there is no need for the sarcasm."

Marethari gasps over exaggeratedly. "Oh no. Don't tell me there's a lover's quarrel afoot? Oh, poor Merrill, it will break her heart."

You give the cackling Keeper one last glare as you depart after Lanaya. She has not gone very far, and you are capable of far greater speeds then she is, even at a walk. You quickly catch up to her and gain her attention.

"What is it?" She asks sharply.

"I would speak to you." You reply. "I would know the source of this hostility and how it might be rectified. I believed our relationship was relatively cordial, so I am most taken aback by your sudden change in attitude."

"You…" Lanaya snarls, then stop. "You know what, fine. Let's talk about this."

The young Keeper leads you away from the main camp and into the trees. As soon as you are far enough away not to be overheard, she whirls to face you.

"You want to know what my problem is?" She says. "It's the outsider who keeps sticking his nose into our business. It was different at first, I could understand how the werewolves might bring in an outsider. I certainly wouldn't have listened to them. Then you were this weirdly helpful neighbour, kind of nosey but well intentioned."

The young elf grits her teeth and hisses. "But ever since I talked to Marethari about merging our clans things have changed. That human elf thing made me realise something. You've been getting yourself more involved in everything we do, spreading your influence."

"And you know what? I didn't care." She laughs bitterly. "You were helping, with Elvish, with Trade and all that. But things started to nag at me, bringing that Solas fellow here, pulling in the city elves things like that. It all came to a head when you tried to convince me that you, an outsider, knew the best path for my people."

"As I recall, you asked for my opinion, and I gave it." You remind her. "I even prefaced it by admitting that my knowledge was incomplete due to being an outsider."

Lanaya is surprised by your words. The clouds of her anger part for a moment, before they stubbornly close again.

"Then why are you here." She stresses. "Why are you coming to a meeting of the Dalish Keepers, where outsiders are forbidden. No, I realise what's going on. You've been ingratiating yourself with the nobility, with the spineless city dwellers and us. You want us to be nice and tame, more subjects for you to rule over."

"I am trying to rally the forces of the light in the face of an immense wave of oncoming darkness!" You yell in frustration. "I told you this!"

"A convenient excuse." Lanaya scoffs. "After the Blight there'll be something else I'm sure. Anything to keep us under your banner."

"I could not care less what banner you rally under as long as you rally." You stress. "This is not a small problem that affects some and not others, this is a tide that will swallow all the free world!"

"Then why do you oppose the selection of a queen?" Lanaya shouts. "If you don't care what banner we rally under, why can't it be our own!"

You pull back your anger, trying to inject some calm into the discussion. "For a multitude of reasons. I fear that such a position would become a beacon for strife and division, especially without the weight of tradition behind it. Further, it is simply impractical, your people are too fragmented for a king to wield any true power."

"You can't know that." Lanaya protests.

"I can, I have seen it." You reply. "The Noldor, my people, once pledged loyalty to only a single king, but division overtook us. By the time of Gil-Galad there was a genuine possibility that his host would have met mine in battle. When central control collapses it can be almost impossible to restore."

"I could do it!" Lanaya claims.

"Perhaps, but can you do it in two months?" You ask. "That is the timetable you are on. The Blight is not in a year or a decade, it is nigh upon us. Two months at most."

"You can't know that for sure." Lanaya tries, sounding unsure.

"Keeper?" A voice interrupts you before you can capitalise. "Sorry to interrupt you, but the Moot is about to start."

Lanaya nods to the messenger absently. "Yes, of course. I will be right there."

The messenger nods, glares at you, then departs.

You try to continue the conversation, "Lanaya…"

"No. The time for words has passed." The Keeper says, eyes hardening. "Now is the time for action."

With those words, the young elf walks away from you, her back held rigidly straight. With a sigh you follow her. On the way to the meeting you consider your plans, and how you will approach the Moot.

One by one the Keepers come to a specially cleared area in the forest. It stands away from the main camp a short distance, enough to make it difficult to eavesdrop. A set of stones have been arranged in a circle, one per keeper. There are a number of banners bearing the iconography of each clan.

You lean against a tree at the edge of the clearing, watching from a distance. Most of the keepers come alone, but some have brought their Firsts. Each takes their place, standing before their banner in silence. When the last has arrived, Lanaya steps into the centre of the circle and speaks.

"I extend my gratitude to those who have come to this meeting." She bows slightly. "I hope that here, in the sight of the gods, we might share in their wisdom."

She steps back and Marethari steps forward.

"I am Marethari descended from Sabrae and Keeper of the Elvhen ways. I hear your words and second your request." She intones.

It seems that this is some kind of ritual, for each of the others steps forward and says the same, though each of them claims to be descended from a different person. It is unclear how the order is decided, as there seems to be no clear pattern to it.

You assumed it was age at first, but Gisharel is older than Marethar. Or so you think, human ages are a mystery to you, but he has a beard which would be a sign of great age among the Eldar. Your maternal grandfather aside.

When the ritual is done, Lanaya speaks. "Again, I thank you all for coming. I have called this council to discuss the future of our people. How many of you have wondered how long we can continue to live as a dispossessed collection of tribes without a home?"

A few of the elves look thoughtful at her words, but several shrug or do not react at all. It is not the strongest opening, but it is perfectly serviceable.

"Well, I have." Lanaya continues. "And I am appalled by what I found. We have grown complacent."

These words land much more effectively, causing scowls and angry muttering, but the power of tradition seems to prevent any outright yelling.

"Yes! Complacent!" She yells. "Did our ancestors not swear to reclaim the Dales? Yet what do we do? We skulk in the forests and by the edges of human settlements, considered little better than bandits!"

"She looks at each of the Keepers in turn. "How are we to reclaim our homeland like this? Where are our plans? Where is our army? With the full might of the Emerald Knights we could not stand up to the might of humanity and yet we sit and do nothing as our strength dwindles ever further away."

The young Keeper thrusts her arm in the air. "I say no more! What we need is leadership. We all need to step up and work together, and that is not possible with us so divided internally. What we need is a single leader, a queen to unite the clans and lead us back to our rightful home!"

Lanaya stops speaking, and you can see her words at work. A number of the Keepers are bristling in indignation, you would guess these are the traditionalists, while others are looking about with the light of ambition gleaming in their eyes.

At this point Marethari steps into the centre of the circle, likely aided by whatever seniority had her speaking first. She looks about at the other Keepers tiredly, her gaze lingering on Lanaya for the greatest amount of time.

With a sigh she says, "I wish I could stand here and claim that Lanaya's youth is making her impatient. That she simply does not realise that all things have their time and place. Sadly I cannot, for we have lost sight of our goal."

Her words cause the other Keepers to start re-evaluating what is happening. You suspect they deem it likely that Lanaya and Marethari are working together and scrambling to figure out how that shifts the balance of power.

"Yet, I cannot agrees with her conclusion." She says, causing yet more murmurs as conclusions are re-examined once more. "A single leader is unwieldy, and worse flies in the face of our traditions."

Several people are nodding along as she continues. "We have always been independent, each of our ancestors fled alone, with only those they could convince to follow them. We have maintained this lineage, and it would be foolish to abandon it now."

Marethari pauses, leaning on her staff and sighing again. "Still, I think it is time we started to cooperate more. We cannot continue to act independently, as our strength only fades. How can we spread ideas, plans and organisation amongst ourselves if we only meet every six years? I propose the creation of a permanent council with the explicit aim of reclaiming the Dales before our lifetimes are over!"

This revelation shocks the Keepers, and several fight to be the next one to speak. You suspect they consider the timetable to be too short. They are unaware of Merrill's discovery. Idly you wonder why Marethari has not chosen to reveal it at this point, is it perhaps to avoid accusations of bribery?

Arguments go back and forth over the course of the afternoon. Gisharel attempts to argue a case for normalising relationships with human kingdoms. He has some interesting points, about the need for allies and the trouble with not being considered a political entity.

He is shouted down.

"Human loving fool!" One says.

"You would have us all bend the knee for a collar!" Another yells.

"Why are you even here!" A third exclaims.

It takes hours for the meeting to get anywhere. Each Keeper speaks, in favour of one position or another, while making it clear that they could be swayed another way. It is all political games, and it makes you tired just watching it unfold.

The proceedings end up taking two days. In the breaks for meals and sleep there is a furious rush of backroom dealing and personal connections. As an outsider you are not included in such things, though you could have gotten involved if you wished. Yet, Lanaya's words have struck at something within you, and you deem it best to remain neutral for now.

Sometime after lunch, a significant enough block of Keepers have been brought together to sway the few who are truly married to the concept of the status quo, or a new king.

"We are agreed then?" Lanaya asks, defeated. "We shall all gather once per year as a collective body to communicate and coordinate as a group? We all swear, in the sight of Mythal and El'gar'nan, to come to the defence of any group that is attacked, and to move together."

Assent comes from the group, reluctantly from the few holdouts of Lanaya's factions. The staunchest traditionalists storm out of the gathering, refusing to be party to the matter, but that is but one or two (you are uncertain if the two who leave are Keepers or if one is a First).

Idly you wonder if you should have intervened at some point. It was something you had always been willing to do, yet it seemed that nothing you found objectionable had been agreed on, so you decided not to. There is little point in accepting the rights of others to rule themselves, if you then micromanage their decisions.

It actually reminds you of the Union, which is either an auspicious sign or a deeply inauspicious one.

You cannot decide which you think it is.

Report Time

"How has the week been." You ask Anneth.

"Truth be told, it's been quiet." She admits. "Without the spiders and Sylvan it's as if we have nothing to do."

You nod. "Any darkspawn?"

"Nothing concrete." She replies, wincing. "We've seen some tracks that might be them but could also be dwarves. Hard to say."

"Keep an eye out. If possible, find the paths those we saw earlier in the year took to arrive. I would know where my foe is." You order.

The officer makes that strange gesture to her forehead. You have come to learn that it is called a salute and is used by soldiers when showing respect to their commanders.

When the Ranger has departed, you read over the latest correspondence from you informants. Sadly, there is relatively little of interest. Mostly confirming things you already knew, and some pricing information that Martin might find useful. There is one section that catches your attention.

There's a bit of commotion up north. Launduril says that some 'big heroes' are visiting. What a pair of Grey Wardens are doing here, I have no idea. Teyrn's still up in Denerim, so it's not like they need to talk to him about anything. Figures you'd want to know, considering your 'constitution' shall we say.

Are your spies, you mean informants, under the impression you are a Grey Warden? You know that it is a rumour that has been floating around your staff and the local area, but you thought you had addressed those claims already.

Writing a letter to remind your employees that you are not, in fact, a Grey Warden, you reflect on the news. What are a pair of Grey Wardens doing here?

The Dalish maybe?