Companion Chatter

Almost immediately following the meeting with the king, you set out to find your companions. There is some time before anyone will depart, perhaps a week, as the politicking and planning takes place. In that time, you want to ascertain that everyone is where they can do the best good.

Finding said group is a little challenging. Ranger is gossiping with some of the older soldiers, so he at least is easy to find. The others, less so.

Morrigan is up a tree either hiding from people, staring at spiders or eating birds, she is rather cagey on the exact reason. Merrill you have to physically drag away from the basement where she is doing research. Maeglin has taken over the forges, which are actually under siege by the other smiths. Frankly, finding Xandar having an argument with one of the Templars is almost a relief in contrast.

"Alright, what's goin' on kid." Ranger asks, once they are all gathered.

Maeglin is muttering to himself and examining the Persilima in detail, seemingly uninterested to what is happening around him. Merrill is also muttering to herself. Morrigan is muttering insults about you not at all to herself. Xandar at least is paying attention.

"Well, as you may be aware, the lords of Ferelden just met to decide what is happening going forward." You inform them. "I am here to relay those decisions to you and to plan for how we will act upon those decisions."

That gets most of the group's begrudging attention. Well, Morrigan is begrudging. Maeglin, interestingly enough is an exception.

"Maeglin, please stop staring at the Persilima." You ask the elda. "I assure you it will still be there when I have finished speaking."

"This is important." Maeglin hisses distractedly.

"I would have thought that you would know better than to allow anything Silmaril related to consume you like this." You snap back. "Hast thou learned nothing from the tale of Fëanor?"

Maeglin gives you an annoyed look, but focuses on you at least enough that you can continue. However, before you do so, Merrill interrupts.

"Ok. I think I get what that was about, but seriously, what's going on here?" She asks.

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"Whenever you talk to Maeglin you're always dropping these references to stuff that I've never heard of, or am only sort of familiar with." Merrill explains.

You tamp down on your immediate response to deny the accusation. On reflection, you suppose you do to a certain extent.

"I suppose I do." You reply evenly. "As do all peoples. Contrary to how it may appear, I am not a native of this land. As such, I cannot reference cultural moments or tales with any particular ease. In fact, the manner in which I speak to Lomion is closer to my natural mode of speech than what I am saying now."

There is a momentary silence as the group processes what you have said, then Ranger says. "I 'spose that's all well and good, but isn't it a little rude to be doin' that sort of thing when there's other folks in the conversation?"

"Is that not a touch hypocritical of you to say?" You ask. "After all, it is not as though anyone here is shy about doing the very same, regardless of the fact that I understand far less than it seems."

"Honestly, this whole line of conversation is pointless." Morrigan interjects. "It is not as though it matters. Even if he has anything to say worth listening too, it's not as if obscure cultural artefacts are useful to a conversation."

That leads to an extended pause, with you joining in the slightly shocked response this time.

"Were you, perchance, raised alone?" Maeglin asks.

"No." Morrigan replies sarcastically. "I was raised in a tiny quaint village of Chasind by my mother, the wicked witch of the swamps."

Extended social isolation explains so much about her personality.

"Morrigan's horrifying and tragic backstory aside." Merrill says. "Even if you don't always understand what's going on, we do explain what we mean."

"That is because I ask questions." You point out. "Which you, hitherto, have not."

"Wait, ya mean that if we wanted to know what ya were talkin' about, all we had to do was ask?" Ranger, well, asks.

"It's not that easy though." Merrill complains. "You both speak really fast and you're incredibly intense a lot of the time…"

"Tough." Maeglin retorts. "Suck it up or interject. Do not make your cowardice our problem."

"Perhaps." You speak before Maeglin can start a fight. "If you have any questions, I can take some time to answer them now, before we begin our discussion of what was discussed by the lords."

"I've got a question." Ranger says. "Hey Mayglen, what's yar problem with humans?"

"None of your business, human." The Noldo in question snarls.

"Historical conflict and personal conflict." You supply.

"That's it?" Ranger asks.

"The full details are both time consuming to relay and likely to cause Maeglin to challenge me to a duel." You state, pointing to said elda who is glaring at you.

"What about those words you threw around?" Xandar asks. "They kind of sounded like names."

"Ulfang and Bór?" You clarify.

"Yeah, those." Xandar nods.

"They are names, of two of the easterlings who were sworn to my brothers and I." You explain.

"That doesn't explain the context, fool." Morrigan points out lazily.

"I thought that you believed an understanding of cultures beneath you, witch." You reply in a completely neutral tone.

The witch rolls her eyes. "Merely highlighting your inadequacies, barbarian."

"Who were the easterlings?" Xandar asks with bright eyes.

"They were one of the races of men that we met in Beleriand." You raise your hand to forestall the question on Xandar's lips. "Beleriand was the land I was in before I arrived in Thedas."

For a time you answer questions to the best of your abilities. There is hardly time to relay many of the tales that you reference and some matters of history are too unwieldy to be discussed. Still, you do what you can.

From there you move to a discussion of the meeting and what was decided. In particular, you are focused on where your party will be going for the next month or so.

"I intend to travel to Orzamar." Maeglin proclaims. "I have spoken to the occasional surface dwarf and have long desired to see the fabled capital of the Naugrim."

"That word means dwarves. Literally 'the stunted folk." You supply for the others.

"I think we picked it up from context." Merril replies dryly.

"It will hardly be comparable to Khazad-Dûm." You continue, speaking now to Maeglin. "If you go in with such expectations, you shall be disappointed."

"I am hardly a fool, incapable of noticing the minor difference in names." Maeglin scoffs. "I have heard from my contacts that it is a city unrivalled in Thedas. I would see it. Besides, I weary of being surrounded by humans at all hours. The company of the dwarves would be welcome."

"We weary of your company also." Morrigan says. "Replacing you with a dwarf is an excellent idea. How about that Aeducan girl?"

Ignoring Morrigan, you reply to Maeglin, "Good. Given all possibilities then your going to Orzamar can only be advantageous. While you are there you can lend your expertise to the envoys?"

Maeglin grimaces but nods.

"Thank you. I had planned on going there myself, but if you are already there…" You trail off, weighing your options in your mind.

Ranger speaks up. "While yar thinkin' I was figurin' that I'd be stayin' with the army. I've got no problems goin' anywhere, but figured if ya're lookin' for a scout, they'd be needed here."

"You surmise correctly." You answer absently, idly squashing the irrational urge to keep him close, keep him safe. "You might also serve the Grey Wardens in a similar role, but I believe they have some kind of advantage in that department."

"Haven't got a problem with that." Ranger says good naturedly. "Better than the last time I tried to join up anyhow."

"Excellent." You state then, eager to move on from that potentially painful memory, turn to Merrill. "Would you be willing to accompany the Grey Wardens as they try to use their treaties?"

"Oh." Merrill looks a little taken aback. "Uh, well, in principle I'm happy to, but I was kind of hoping to speak to Avernus more. That project he's working on is fascinating and I have so many ideas!"

You pause, considering. "Well, if you think that is a better use of your time, then by all means. I was merely thinking it might be a good idea if they had a Dalish Elf with them when they spoke to whichever clan they head to."

"Why would they speak to…" Merrill trails off, expression slowly transforming from confusion to shock. "Oh, Varda, we're signatories to the treaty."

"Do not use the Lady of Stars' name as a curse." Maeglin chides her coldly.

Merrill's cheeks flush. "Sorry, I just. I need to contact the Keeper. We need to speak to the council. Oh, Valar, sorry, we're going to need to call in clans from all over. It's going to take months!"

"I am sure that if it is truly important that another could do so." You reassure her. "Brecilian is not far away and I am certain that Marethari is more than capable of fulfilling the duties required by treaty."

"No. It's." Merrill takes several long moments to breathe deeply and clam herself down. "My clan is a signatory to that treaty, that means the Wardens can, theoretically, call on my help any time. More importantly, as a First of the Clan, I have a duty to act upon the responsibilities placed upon us."

"Additionally, I am certain she would rather her clan go to war with other Dalish rather than fighting alone." Maeglin observes.

"I'll help!" Xandar exclaims, thrusting his hand into the air. "I know all sorts of people and I bet other teacher could help. He's always looking for 'them' and finding hidden messages."

Merrill looks to you, and you hesitate. Part of you wants to keep Xandar near you or leave him with the army.

After some thought you ask her. "Would he be helpful?"

Merrill nods slowly. "More mages are usually a good thing, plus he can take messages to Lanaya."

"Very well, then he shall accompany you." You state.

For your part, you want to go to Orzamar. You recall the dwarves of the Legion of the Dead, and idly speculate about the chance to launch a counterattack. Further spending time with Maeglin is an attractive prospect. While you are not 'sick of being surrounded by humans' you do long for days among your own kind.

Yet, there is an obvious gap in where your allies are going, and a place that has been one of the flashpoints for many of the arguments that have taken place among the nobles of Ferelden.

"For my part, I shall be going to Orlais." You state.

"What about Morrigan?" Asks Xandar.

Morrigan says "I'm not letting you out of my sight for a second. Mother said I had to help you, so I will, but I'm not your lacky."

"Well." You state into the silence that develops after that. "I suppose we are both going to Orlais."

Loghaine Laments

Teyrn Loghaine had not been his usual self during the meeting. As your own conversation with your companions winds to a close, you deem it wise to seek him out. Whether his ego needs to be soothed from losing the argument over Orlais, or if something deeper is happening, you have invested too much to allow him to become an enemy now.

The location of his tent is public knowledge, and you find it without too much effort. He is not there when you arrive, likely off briefing people you would guess. You settle down to wait nearby.

Eventually, as the sun sinks low on the horizon, you see the Teyrn limping through the camp. When you stand to greet him, his brow draws down into a frown. He stomps as best he can up to you.

"Well, here to gloat?" He growls. "Go away then. I have no interest in listening to any more grandstanding."

"I am not in the habit of gloating to those not my enemies." You reply, mostly truthfully.

"Oh." The Teyrn asks bitterly. "We're not enemies, are we?"

"Opponents in certain political arenas perhaps." You allow calmly. "However, I would hope that you would understand that if I were your enemy then I would do far worse than disagree with policy."

"Do I?" Teyrn Loghaine asks pointedly. "I do not think we know each other particularly well."

You stop the human and look him in the eyes. "When our positions were reversed, I came at your invitation, that we could work the matter out like civilised beings. Are you unable to extend the same courtesy to me?"

There is a long moment of silence, before the Teyrn sighs. "Come in."

Teyrn Loghaine's tent is extremely frugal. There is a bed roll, some documents and a chest of belongings, and no more. Even your tent has some bedding and extra blankets, and you do not suffer from random aches and pains the way humans apparently do past around thirty years of age.

"I hope you're not expecting a drink or anything of the like." Teyrn Loghains states brusquely. "I am neither in the mood, not do I have any supplies."

"I had no such expectations." You reply, long accustomed to the poor hospitality of Thedas in general. "All I desire is to discuss the meeting and other events of the past week or so."

"Letting Orlais into the kingdom is a mistake." Teyrn Loghaine proclaims.

"I am aware, as you are aware I disagree." You reply. "I thought I had given a rather persuasive argument about why it is the best option at the meeting."

"They can't be trusted." The Teyrn growls. "They'll betray us, attack Denerim while we're not looking."

You pause, more to allow him to feel that you are taking his words seriously than for any great need for thought. "That is a risk, true. How could we mitigate that risk?"

Teyrn Loghaine blinks in surprise, then immediately suggests, "Don't let them into the kingdom."

"That ship has sailed." You observe evenly. "What can be done to mitigate the dangers?"

"There's nothing stopping us from simply not letting Orlais' armies pass the border fortresses." Teyrn Loghaine grumbles.

You sigh. "Teyrn Loghaine, you are a soldier, are you not? Why are you wasting time wishing for an ideal situation. If such things happened on the battlefield, what would you do?"

The Teyrn takes a deep breath and fixes you with a stern glare. "Why do you care? You've made it more than clear that you think my concerns are groundless."

"Because you disagree." You remind him. "The art of negotiation and diplomacy is compromise. I think we need Orlais regardless of any perceived danger, that not having them endangers Ferelden more than the alternative. You however, see some kind of danger in allowing them in, and I think the best thing to do is take any steps to minimise that danger as much as possible."

"Eliminating the danger would be far better." Teyrn Loghaine grumbles.

"One cannot eliminate danger from war." You retort. "All one can do is manipulate the odds in one's favour."

The old man sighs quietly and is silent for a long time. He sags down into a chair and rubs a hand over his closed eyes. Absently, and likely unconsciously he reaches down to itch at his bandaged leg.

Then the eyes snap open, gleaming with keen intelligence. "We'd need to hold the border fortresses. That way we can strangle their supply lines and deny reinforcements."

"You would need someone who you could trust not to unilaterally deny entry." You point out. "As some supplies and reinforcements may be necessary."

"We'd have to look at communication too." Teyrn Loghaine muses, rubbing his chin. "There'd need to be some way they could verify whether or not it's an Orlesian plot."

"Or there would need to be someone of high authority who could decide that on their own initiative." You point out.

"True." The Teyrn grunts. "But who?"

This is a matter you do not leap to answer. It is a serious question and you will treat it as such.

"Well, I suppose the question really is what qualities will the person guarding the border need?" You ask, more thinking aloud than asking the question.

"Loyalty. " Teyrn Loghaine answers immediately.

"Reliability and a certain experience in command." You agree. "Ideally they would need either the ability to communicate quickly, or sufficient authority to rally locals and requisition forces."

"Lydia would…" Loghaine's expression twists in pain. "Lydia would have been a good choice."

"Yes." You reply sympathetically. "Bann Caulfield would have been a good choice also."

"Wasn't he the Bann of Kinloch? I thought he was here." Teyrn Loghaine says with a frown.

"He was killed trying to reach his wife in the tower." You reply. "That was in the initial assault, he had been dead for nearly an hour by the time I reached his position."

Teyrn Loghaine closes his eye for a moment and you have the rather unique experience of seeing a human look, to your eyes for the first time, truly old. Though, perhaps tired would be the better term, given how closely such concepts are tied in your mind.

"So many." The Teyrn mutters quietly. "We lost so many."

You allow a moment of silence to pass in respect before you say, "We will not allow them to be forgotten, nor their sacrifices to be in vain."

"We?" Teyrn Loghaine asks with a bitter twitch of his lip.

"I have my own comrades to avenge. Fingon, Oropher, Bor and more." You state quietly. "Too many to name."

There is another moment of silence before Teyrn Loghaine speaks again. "We have departed from the question at hand. Who would you recommend for the position."

There is a long pause as you put your thoughts in order. "I would suggest the Grey Wardens."

"Out of the question." Teyrn Loghaine replies immediately.

"They are a neutral party, with broad mandate to recruit and conscript." You argue. "They are the perfect group to watch the border."

"They have no loyalty to Ferelden." Loghaine protests.

"Their duty is to oppose the Blight, which they cannot do if Ferelden and Orlais are tearing each other apart in a war." You point out.

"Ha! Their supposed 'duty' did not stop them trying to take over Ferelden, did it?" The Teyrn argues back. "What's to stop them from doing it again."

"There is an actual Blight currently present." You contend. "They cannot simply ignore it to play politics, any more than you can."

"You yourself know that most people are more than content to play at politics even with the Blight." The Teyrn says, conveniently leaving out that until recently he was one of them.

Perhaps he still is.

"Duncan and the other Wardens have been nothing but dedicated to their duty thus far, what reason do you have to believe that will change?" You ask.

"It is not them I distrust." Teyrn Loghaine lies. "It is Orlais. If they thought it would advantage them to give Orlais Ferelden they would. Andraste's sake, most of them are Orlesian!"

"There are those who are not though." You point out. "Surely, they would be far more loyal to stopping the Blight than to any perceived institutional loyalty. Some have been Grey Wardens for less than a week."

"Like who?" The Teyrn asks, more calmly now but still unamused. "The dwarf? Please, what interest does Orzamar have in who rules the surface, as long as they distract the darkspawn."

"Why not Alistair?" You suggest. "He was a templar and seems a rather sensible choice, a touch naïve admittedly, but a good man regardless."

Immediately the Teyrn's face becomes as ice. "Never."

"Why?" You begin.

"Alistair will never hold any official position of command so long as I have anything to say about it." He says with unwavering finality.

You get the impression that in most cases that would be the end of this conversation, however, the goodwill you built earlier is clearly carrying you. When you pause and do not press for Alistair Teyrn Loghaine visibly relaxes.

"Well, if Alistair is not an option." You state. "Then I suppose the only choice is you."

"I cannot." The Teyrn protests. "I have to return to Gwaren to muster the militias and start raising new forces."

"You could do that through intermediaries." You point out. "Many of your Banns were aged and had children. They could do so on their own land, and likely would need to regardless."

"Perhaps, but there are my personal holdings to consider." Teyrn Loghaine states. "I hardly have anyone I would trust with my personal authority."

For a long moment you think, then an idea hits you. "What about your daughter?"

"Anora? What about her?" Teyrn Loghaine asks.

"Is she not your heir?" You observe. "As well as Queen of Ferelden, if anyone both is uninterested in harming you and has the authority to act in your stead it is her."

"Ah, well, she needs to run the kingdom while Cailan is away." Teyrn Loghaine argues.

You shrug. "Can she not do that from Gwaren? I understand the importance of capitals, but at least among my people kings can still rule while in places other than Tirion."

"It's not that simple." The Teyrn grumbles.

"Perhaps, but is it possible?" You ask.

"Theoretically." He admits begrudgingly.

"Is there a better option?" You press.

His silence is all the answer you need.