AUTHOR'S NOTES

Hello readers how are you.

As a budding writer, your reviews are very important to me, so I will be responding to your reviews.

Ltbutterfly287—yeah, I think so too, it felt like a good idea at the time, but now, looking back at it, it's kinda silly.

Guest—yeah, that's what I'm trying to go for.

Guest—all the origin stories will play a role in the story, and as for the other stuff, you will have to read the new chapters that are coming. Your elder scrolls idea is a great one, but sadly I won't be able to write it anytime soon, maybe after im done with one of my stories, then ill have free time to write it, but its an awesome idea.

Blaze1992—ha-ha, who says the airship will fly on the first try, that would be like running before they can walk. No some things will not so easy for our heroes.

Enjoy the story, and feel free to leave a review if you have any comments or questions; this will help the story get better.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Dalish

Alex quickly assessed the battlefield, his sharp gaze taking in the positions of the ambushing bandits. Fourteen in total: six archers positioned on raised terrain, three to the left and three to the right. Seven melee fighters formed the frontline, led by the olive-skinned elf who had given the order to attack. Behind them, a mage loomed, already preparing her next spell.

This is doable, Alex thought, tightening his grip on his sword, Oathkeeper. He adopted his battle stance and barked out orders.

"Leliana, take out the archers on the left. Lynna, focus on the right ridge archers. Both of you, stay under cover of that fallen log! I'll handle the melee fighters."

Without hesitation, Leliana and Lynna switched to their bows, moving quickly behind the cover of the fallen log. Leliana's fingers deftly notched an arrow, her expression sharp with focus, while Lynna took a steadying breath before drawing back her bowstring.

Meanwhile, Alex surged forward, closing the distance between himself and the charging bandits. Just before impact, he unleashed a Mind Blast, sending a psychic shockwave outward. The effect was immediate—several bandits stumbled, momentarily stunned, their weapons momentarily slipping from their grasps. Alex seized the opportunity, stepping forward and swiftly beheading two of them—a man and a woman—before the others could react.

One of the remaining bandits recovered quickly and lunged at him with a heavy downward swing. Alex parried the blow, sidestepping to avoid another attacker's thrust. With a swift spin, he dodged another blade aimed at his ribs, twisting his body into a hanging parry before cleanly decapitating another enemy in one fluid motion.

The bandits hesitated, their confidence shaken as they instinctively retreated a few steps to put distance between them and the Warden. Alex wasn't about to let them recover. He thrust his free hand forward, summoning a burst of flames. A Flame Blast erupted against the nearest bandit, his screams filling the air as fire consumed him.

The remaining two shouted in rage and charged, their attacks synchronized. Alex moved with precision, weaving between their swings as steel whistled past his ears. He expertly blocked one blow while twisting away from another, his body a blur of movement as he danced between their attacks.

Then, with practiced fluidity, he rolled behind them, extending his palm toward the enemy mage who had been launching spells at Leliana and Lynna. Winter's Grasp surged from his fingertips, tendrils of frost encasing the woman in a prison of ice. With a flick of his wrist, he followed up with a Rock Fist spell, shattering her frozen form into glistening shards.

Three bandits remained, but Alex had no intention of prolonging the fight. He focused his energy into Oathkeeper, channeling magic into the blade. The weapon resisted, the strain threatening to shatter it, but he pressed forward. Swinging it in an arc, jagged ice spikes burst forth, hurtling toward the remaining men.

The olive-skinned elf, displaying quick reflexes, grabbed one of his own comrades, shoving him forward as a human shield. The unfortunate man took the brunt of the ice spikes, while the last remaining bandit was also impaled. The elf barely managed to avoid the worst of the attack but was thrown off balance.

Alex capitalized on the opening, sending another Rock Fist directly into the elf's chest. The impact sent him sprawling to the ground, unconscious.

With the battlefield mostly cleared, Alex turned his attention to the ridges. Lynna was fending off two enemies at once, her twin daggers flashing as she expertly weaved between their strikes, slowly whittling them down with precise counterattacks. Leliana, still using her short bow, seamlessly switched between arrows and her dagger, fluidly incorporating kicks into her fighting style.

Moments later, both women finished their opponents and made their way toward Alex, their breathing steady despite the exertion.

Lynna surveyed the bodies strewn across the battlefield, her green eyes narrowing. "This was no ordinary bandit ambush," she muttered. "These people were trained."

Leliana nodded, her Orlesian accent carrying a note of certainty. "These were assassins. It would seem Loghain is hiring professionals to kill you."

Alex sighed, rolling his shoulders to shake off the tension. "Wonderful," he muttered, a part of him wondering if the others had run into similar ambushes on their missions. His eyes fell upon the unconscious elf. "This one was the leader. Maybe he can tell us who hired him."

The three of them walked over, and Lynna unceremoniously kicked the elf in the leg. He groaned, his eyelids fluttering open. "Ohhh, I thought I would wake up dead," he murmured groggily. "Or not wake up at all, as the case may be. But I see you haven't killed me yet. How fortunate for me."

Alex crouched down; his expression impassive. "Well, assassin, today's your lucky day. I have questions." He twirled his fingers, arcs of lightning crackling between them. "You can either answer them the easy way, or I can make this hurt."

The elf glanced at the electricity dancing across Alex's hand, then let out a theatrical sigh. "Ah, so I am to be interrogated. Let me save you some time."

He introduced himself as Zevran and explained that he was a Crow, a member of the infamous Antivan assassins. His target? The Grey Wardens—specifically Alex.

Alex's brows furrowed. "The Antivan Crows?" He had only heard of them in passing, mostly from Fergus, who had once called them the best assassins in Thedas. "Who hired you?"

Zevran smirked. "A rather taciturn fellow. Loghain, I believe his name was."

Alex exhaled sharply, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. "Of course, it was Loghain. He's really starting to piss me off."

"You and me both," Lynna muttered.

"Are you loyal to him?" Alex asked.

"No, not at all," Zevran admitted easily. "I was contracted for a job. Nothing more."

Alex tilted his head. "How much were you paid?"

Zevran chuckled. "Ah, nothing upfront. Loghain dealt with the Crows, not me. I was simply assigned the task. You see, the life of a Crow is not for one who seeks riches and fame."

Alex chuckled despite himself before glancing at the others. "Any more questions?"

Leliana and Lynna shook their heads.

"Well, thank you for the information, Crow," Alex said, charging his hand with lightning again. "I'll make this as painless as possible."

Zevran's eyes widened slightly. "Wait! I can still be of use to you! Let me join you."

Alex cut the flow of magic, blinking in surprise before laughing. "You just tried to kill us, and now you want to join us? Why in Andraste's name would we let you?"

Zevran, unfazed, shrugged. "Because my contract is not yet completed. Even If I somehow return to the Crows, they will kill me for failing. Either way, my life is forfeit. At least with you, I keep drawing breath. And I do come with benefits—such as spotting future ambushes before they happen."

Alex considered this, then turned to Leliana and Lynna. "What do you think?"

Lynna shrugged. " I say kill him; he's not worth the risk."

Leliana shook her head. "I believe he wishes to turn over a new leaf. We should give him the chance."

Alex thought for a second, weighing his options, then extended his hand. "Betray us, and I will kill you in the most horrific way possible. Do you understand?" Zevran nodded. "Welcome to the team."

Zevran clasped his hand with a grin. "Oh, I do love a dramatic welcome."

Lynna folded her arms, her piercing gaze locked onto Alex as she jerked a thumb toward Zevran. "Is it wise to allow the assassin who tried to kill us not too long ago to join our ranks, Alex?" Her tone was sharp, edged with skepticism.

Leliana, standing beside her, watched Alex carefully, her expression unreadable, but her interest in his answer was clear. Zevran, for his part, simply stood there with an easy smirk, as if completely unbothered by the tension in the air.

Alex took a slow breath, glancing at Zevran before meeting Lynna's gaze once more. "Lynna, you know the enormity of our task, what we need to accomplish. If we're going to succeed, we need all the help we can get. It's not wise to turn away capable allies."

Lynna's lips pressed into a thin line. She let her eyes roam over Zevran, taking in the assassin's relaxed posture and unreadable expression. Finally, she exhaled sharply through her nose and said, "He might think it's wise to have you with us, but I do not trust you one bit, assassin. I have my eyes on you."

Zevran chuckled, his golden eyes twinkling with amusement. "A wise choice, my dear companion. Not that it is necessary, but wise nonetheless."

Lynna scoffed and turned on her heel, striding away from the group. Leliana watched her go before offering Zevran a polite smile. "Welcome, Zevran. Having an Antivan Crow sounds like a splendid idea."

Zevran's smirk widened as he placed a hand dramatically over his heart. "Oh, you are another companion to be, then? I was not aware such loveliness existed among adventurers, surely."

Lynna rolled her eyes, unimpressed, while Alex merely shook his head, thinking, really dude?

Leliana, however, was less than amused. Her smile faded into a frown, and she gave Zevran a disapproving look before saying, "Or maybe not." She turned and walked away without another word.

The group continued on their journey, and another day passed before they had almost reached their destination. That night, they set up camp in the forest. Lynna and Leliana took charge of preparing the meal, a decision that did not go unnoticed by Alex. He had no doubt that Lynna had insisted on cooking because she still did not trust Zevran, likely fearing that the assassin might try to poison them. That left Alex alone with their new recruit.

Zevran stretched lazily before settling onto a fallen log, his ever-present smirk in place. "So, my fearless leader, you wish to interrogate me further?"

Alex smirked in return but kept his tone even. "Interrogate? No. But getting to know you better wouldn't hurt."

Zevran chuckled. "Ah, but that depends entirely on what you consider 'getting to know me.' Some things are best left to mystery, no?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "You dodge questions well. I suppose that's part of your training?"

Zevran tilted his head, considering. "Among other things." His voice carried a teasing edge, but Alex remained patient. The assassin leaned back against the log, fingers lazily tapping against his knee. "Very well. Since you are so insistent, I shall grant you a tale."

He shifted slightly before speaking again, his voice taking on a more neutral tone. "I was bought by the Crows when I was a mere babe. Raised among them, trained to kill, molded into what I am." He shrugged as if it were of no consequence. "It is simply the way of things."

Alex listened intently, reading between the lines of Zevran's casual words. There was a hardness there, a layer of pain buried beneath the nonchalant attitude. But before he could press further, Lynna and Leliana joined them. Lynna still wore a cold expression as she took a seat opposite Zevran, keeping her distance.

Zevran noticed, of course. His golden eyes twinkled as he spoke. "I assure you, my dear, lovely companion, that I mean you no harm. I am with you on this noble quest."

Lynna scoffed, shaking her head. "Until you decide to sell us out to someone with more coin, right?"

Alex remained quiet, letting them sort out their issues on their own. They were adults, after all.

Zevran placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. "Oh, my dear, how you wound me. I have already pledged myself to your cause; why would I betray you now?"

Lynna gave a short, humorless laugh. "I'm sure your masters got the same excuse. And look where that got them. You turned on them the moment you failed your task. What's stopping you from doing the same to us, assassin?"

Leliana shifted slightly, as if about to speak, but Alex caught her eye and gave her a small shake of his head. She hesitated but relented, choosing to stay silent.

Zevran sighed, a hint of weariness slipping through his usual smooth exterior. "I understand your concerns, dear companion. And while I am certain there is nothing, I can say to ease your mind, I will give you my word that I am with you until such time you deem it necessary to release me from your service. Until then, I swear my loyalty."

Lynna studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without another word, she placed her now-empty plate on the ground, picked up her bow, and stood. "I'm taking first watch. See you in a few hours."

With that, she gracefully climbed up a massive tree and disappeared into the canopy.

Alex sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched her go. Well, that went well.

Morning broke over the forest, casting dappled sunlight through the dense canopy as the group pressed forward. The air carried a crisp freshness, but the tension among them had not eased. Soon, the unmistakable signs of a Dalish outpost came into view—a barricade of sharpened logs and high platforms where elven sentries watched silently from above. A few Dalish hunters stood on it, taking in the morning breeze.

Lynna came to an abrupt stop, holding up a hand to signal the others. She turned to Alex, her expression firm but calm. "Allow me to handle this, Alex."

Alex studied her face for a moment, then nodded. It made sense; she was Dalish, after all, and would have the best chance of ensuring their safe passage.

A faint smirk tugged at Lynna's lips as she stepped forward, leading the group toward the guarded entrance of the outpost. As they neared, a female Dalish hunter descended gracefully from a nearby tree, bow in hand, and approached them cautiously. Her sharp, almond-shaped eyes locked onto Lynna as she spoke in rapid Elvhen.

Lynna responded in the same tongue, her voice even and respectful. The hunter narrowed her eyes slightly, listening intently before replying again, her gaze flickering briefly to Alex, Leliana, and Zevran. After a brief pause, she addressed them in heavily accented Common.

"I shall bring you to the Keeper, Wardens. Might I suggest you keep your hands to yourselves and remember that our arrows are still trained on you?"

Alex dipped his head slightly, his voice steady. "We understand."

The hunter stepped aside, gesturing for them to proceed into the encampment. As they moved forward, Zevran leaned toward Leliana with a low chuckle. "Friendly bunch, aren't they?"

Leliana shot him a knowing glance. "With the way humans have treated them, I understand their caution. Wouldn't you?"

Zevran tilted his head, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a small smile, he added, "In case you haven't noticed, Leliana, I too am an elf. My mother was Dalish, in fact."

Their conversation faded as Alex increased his pace, catching up to Lynna, who walked just behind their guide. He saw the rigid set of her shoulders, the slight tension in her posture, and he decided it was time to address what had been simmering between them since Zevran joined.

"Lynna," he said, keeping his voice light yet firm. "So, you and Zevran, huh?"

She turned her head slightly, a frown already forming. "Ask what you will, Alex."

He chuckled, sensing the irritation in her voice. "Alright, I get it. Maybe it wasn't the smartest move to recruit an assassin who just tried to kill us. But we need all the help we can get if we want to defeat the Darkspawn. After that, he can leave, and we'll never have to deal with him again."

Lynna stopped in her tracks and turned fully to face him; arms crossed. There was no malice in her eyes, only frustration and an edge of exasperation. "You know, Alex, you're a good leader, a good friend, and an even better warrior—but sometimes, I forget how naive and idiotic you can be."

Alex raised an eyebrow, surprised at the bluntness of her words, but he kept silent, letting her continue.

"He's an assassin, Alex. With a contract out on all of us. Just because he failed once, do you really think he won't try again? That he won't wait for the right moment? And all because he gave us his word?" Her voice dripped with skepticism. "A vow, I'm assuming, he also gave his masters. Masters he just betrayed, just to keep on breathing. That's the man you want at our side, all in the name of stopping the Blight?"

Alex let out a slow breath. He had considered these same arguments himself, had weighed them carefully before making his decision. Before he could respond, however, their Dalish guide halted, turning to face them with an unreadable expression.

"We have arrived," she announced. "I will now take you to the Keeper."

Lynna cast one last sharp look at Alex before turning away, stepping forward to follow their guide into the heart of the Dalish camp. Alex sighed and rubbed the back of his neck before trailing after her, already knowing this conversation was far from over.

The group stepped cautiously into the camp, their eyes scanning the surroundings. The ruins bore the unmistakable markings of ancient Tevinter architecture—tall, worn pillars rising like the bones of a long-dead civilization. The Dalish elves had transformed this forsaken place into a temporary refuge, their Aravels arranged in careful clusters, forming a semblance of order within the crumbling remains.

As they walked deeper into the camp, Alex took in the sight of wounded elves lying on makeshift stretchers, some being tended to by healers murmuring incantations over them. Others worked diligently, mending arrows and checking their weapons, their eyes darting to the newcomers with wary suspicion. The tension in the air was thick, a silent warning that outsiders were unwelcome.

The hunter leading them, guided them to the heart of the camp, where an elven man stood observing their arrival. He was bald, his face lined with the wisdom of experience, though his body seemed no older than thirty-five. He wore flowing, nomadic robes, embroidered with symbols that spoke of authority and knowledge. Yet, when he fixed his gaze on them, his amber eyes held an ageless depth, as if he had seen centuries pass before him.

The Hunter approached the man and greeted him in Elvhen, bowing her head slightly in deference. The elf, who Alex assumed was their leader, returned the greeting with a solemn nod before shifting his gaze toward the newcomers. Lynna stepped forward and greeted him in Elvhen, her voice respectful yet firm. The man acknowledged her with a slight smile before turning his attention back to the hunter.

"So, who are these strangers, Mithra?" he asked in the flowing cadence of the Elvhen tongue. "I have little time to spare on outsiders today. Please tell me why they are here."

Mithra gestured toward Alex and Lynna before replying, "These ones claim to be Grey Wardens and wish to speak with the clan. I thought it best to leave the matter in your hands, Keeper."

The elven man, now confirmed to be the Keeper, gave a slow nod. "That was wise, Mithra." He then spoke briefly in Elvhen, and Mithra responded in kind before bowing once more and stepping away.

Turning fully to face them, the Keeper introduced himself. "I am Zathrian, Keeper of this clan. It is my duty to guide my people and preserve the ancient lore of our kind." His gaze settled on Alex with quiet scrutiny. "And you are?"

Alex took a step forward and, with as much respect as he could muster, replied, "I am Alexander Thompson, acting Grey Warden commander. It is an honor to meet you, Keeper Zathrian."

Lynna spoke next, straightening her posture. "I am Lynna Mahariel, also a Grey Warden and once of Clan Sabrae. It is good to meet you, Keeper."

Zevran smirked as he stepped forward. "Zevran Arainai, a humble traveler seeking adventure."

Leliana followed with a warm but measured smile. "I am Leliana, a companion seeking to aid the Wardens."

Zathrian inclined his head, acknowledging each introduction before letting his gaze linger on Alex once more. "Manners, from a shemlen?" He arched an eyebrow. "Curious."

Alex fought the urge to roll his eyes. He had dealt with worse prejudices before, and he wasn't about to let personal offense get in the way of their mission. "We came here seeking aid," he said, keeping his voice even. "The Blight threatens all of Thedas, and we need allies."

Zathrian's expression remained unreadable. "I imagine you have come in accordance with the ancient treaties," he mused. "The ones our ancestors signed with the Grey Wardens."

Alex nodded. "That's correct. We seek to honor those agreements and ask for your aid against the coming Blight."

A heavy silence followed. The elves nearby, who had been tending to their wounded or going about their work, slowed their movements, clearly listening to the conversation. Zathrian let out a weary breath, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I had already sensed the corruption spreading from the south," he admitted, his tone heavy with resignation. "The existence of the Blight is not news to us."

Lynna glanced around the camp, taking in the wounded and the somber expressions of the elves. She turned back to the Keeper and asked, "We noticed your people are not well. What happened? Were you attacked by bandits?"

Alex was wondering the same thing. The Dalish were skilled warriors and fiercely independent; whatever had caused this suffering must have been something formidable.

Zathrian exhaled slowly, a grim look settling over his face. "This will require some explanation," he said, his voice tinged with a sadness that made Alex uneasy.

The group exchanged glances, bracing themselves for what was to come.

The Keeper led the group toward the heart of the camp, where a makeshift infirmary had been set up among the ancient Tevinter ruins. The moment they stepped past the first row of cots, a wave of anguish hit them.

Elves lay writhing in pain, their bodies drenched in sweat, their eyes wild with torment. Some thrashed against their bedding, barely restrained by the hands of their kin, while others groaned in agony, their voices hoarse from screaming. The scent of herbs and poultices filled the air, but it was not enough to mask the sickly, unnatural stench that clung to the afflicted.

Alex slowed his steps, his stomach tightening as he took in the scene before him. This was no mere sickness, no wound from a bandit's blade. There was something darker at work here. His gaze flickered to Lynna, and he saw the color drain from her face as she took in the suffering of her people.

Her hands trembled at her sides, her usual composure cracking as she stared at the moaning, fevered elves. For a moment, she looked as if she might be sick.

Alex hesitated before reaching out, placing a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the contact but then exhaled softly, bringing one hand up to rest over his. She squeezed it briefly, grounding herself in the moment, and when she turned to look at him, she mustered a small, appreciative smile. It was weak, but it was there.

He nodded in return.

Lynna took a deep breath and straightened her posture. Whatever pain or guilt she felt, she buried it deep as she turned back to follow the Keeper.

Zathrian came to a stop near the center of the infirmary, his expression one of deep sorrow. He swept a hand over the wounded elves, his voice heavy with grief as he began to explain.

"The clan came to the Brecilian Forest, as is our custom," he said. "We know the dangers of this place well. We are always prepared for them. But… we were not prepared for the werewolves."

At the mention of the creatures, Alex noted how some of the Dalish nearby tensed, as if the very word sent a chill down their spines.

"The beasts ambushed us," Zathrian continued, his hands curling into fists. "Though we fought back and drove them off, many of our warriors were bitten. And now, even with all our skill in healing magic, we cannot save them." His gaze darkened as he looked over his fallen kin. "Soon, they will turn. And when they do, we will have no choice but to slay them."

A heavy silence settled over the group.

Alex mulled over the words carefully. This attack—it didn't feel random. There was intent behind it, a strategy that went beyond simple savagery. The werewolves had planned the ambush. They had targeted the Dalish with purpose. But why?

His mind raced through possibilities before he finally spoke.

"Why?" His voice was calm but firm. "Why did these creatures attack your people?"

Zathrian's brow furrowed slightly, irritation flashing in his pale eyes.

"Why not?" he countered, his tone clipped. "They are monsters—mindless beasts driven by bloodlust. They do not need a reason to attack."

Alex narrowed his eyes slightly. Something in the Keeper's response felt… off. Too dismissive.

Lynna, who had knelt beside a feverish elven girl, gently brushing damp hair from her sweat-slick forehead, looked up and said, "But Keeper… if they are mindless, then how do you explain the ambush?"

Zathrian's lips pressed into a thin line.

"We were always taught that werewolves are little more than rabid animals," she continued. "Yet, what we're seeing here suggests something else entirely. This was a coordinated strike, not just wild creatures stumbling into your camp by chance."

Alex nodded, crossing his arms. "That's exactly what I was thinking. There's intelligence at work here."

Zevran, who had been standing slightly apart, tilted his head thoughtfully before stepping forward. "If I may?"

Alex gestured for him to continue.

Zevran smirked slightly. "I believe our dear Warden is correct. An ambush requires planning. Coordination. Which suggests not only intelligent, but something much more personal, this was not a mere attack, but a targeted strike, with a purpose, to send a message." His golden eyes flickered with amusement. "A rather violent one, but a message nonetheless."

Lynna shot him a sharp glance, but she did not refute his words. Even Leliana, who had been quietly observing the conversation, nodded in agreement.

The idea that werewolves had planned this? That they had the intelligence to execute such a precise attack? It was unsettling.

Yet, despite the clear evidence, Zathrian waved a hand dismissively.

"I doubt that," he said, his voice laced with finality. "These creatures are driven foremost by their rage. Any thoughts they may have beyond that are secondary at best."

Alex frowned but let the matter drop. He wasn't convinced, but pressing the issue wouldn't accomplish anything right now. There were more immediate concerns.

"So…" he said, glancing back at the suffering elves. "Is there no way to help them? To make a cure?"

Zathrian's face darkened, his usually composed expression clouded with something unreadable—perhaps regret, or something deeper.

"That," he said slowly, his voice grave, "is a complicated question."

His gaze swept over the infirmary, lingering on the elves who lay motionless, feverish, and suffering. A few moaned in their sleep, lost to whatever nightmares haunted them. Others, still conscious, stared at the ceiling with vacant, glassy eyes, their chests rising and falling with labored breaths.

"This affliction is no ordinary disease," Zathrian continued, folding his arms into the sleeves of his robe. "It is a curse—one that runs rampant through their blood. It is relentless, inescapable. If left unchecked, it will either consume them entirely, leading to their deaths… or transform them into monsters." His jaw tightened. "And when that happens, we will have no choice but to put them down."

Alex exhaled sharply, his mind racing through the implications of what the Keeper had just said. A curse? Not a disease, not a poison, but magic—dark, powerful magic that twisted the afflicted into something inhuman.

Zathrian turned his piercing eyes back to them, his voice heavy with meaning. "The only way to lift the curse is to strike at its very source."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "And that source would be?"

The Keeper studied him for a moment before responding.

"There is a great wolf deep within the forest," he said at last. "We call him Witherfang. It is from him that the curse originates. His blood is the key to this affliction, and through it, the curse spreads." Zathrian let that statement hang in the air for a moment before continuing, "If Witherfang is slain and his heart brought to me, I could use it to destroy the curse."

Alex considered that carefully. The logic made sense. If the wolf was the source, then eliminating it could very well be the only way to undo what had been done to the Dalish.

"Simple enough," he said.

Zathrian let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it.

"Do not be so quick to assume," he warned. "This is no trivial task. We have tried before. Many times. I sent a group of hunters into the forest a week ago in search of the beast." His voice grew somber. "None have returned."

That made Alex pause. A week. No survivors.

This wasn't just a simple hunt—this was something far deadlier.

He turned his gaze to Lynna, who had risen from where she had been kneeling beside the sick elven girl. She stepped up beside Leliana, arms crossed, expression unreadable. But Alex could see the same questions forming in her mind.

"Why didn't you try to get outside help?" she asked, her voice careful, though there was an unmistakable edge to it.

Zathrian scoffed at that, shaking his head. "Help?" he repeated bitterly. "And tell me, Grey Warden, where exactly would that help come from? The shemlen? The children of the stone?" His lips curled slightly. "Do not be naïve. The humans and dwarves care little for the struggles of the Dalish. We are alone in this, as we have always been."

Lynna flinched slightly at the venom in his tone, but she said nothing.

Alex, however, remained unfazed.

He knew the Keeper wasn't wrong. The humans certainly wouldn't raise a hand to aid the Dalish, and the dwarves had their own problems to deal with beneath the surface. The elves had no allies in this fight. They never had.

But something about this situation didn't sit right with him. There was more to this than Zathrian was letting on. He was downplaying something—or he knew more than he was willing to admit.

Either way, it didn't change the reality of their mission. They needed the Dalish to uphold their part of the Grey Warden treaty. And that meant solving this werewolf problem.

Alex met Lynna's gaze, and in an instant, he knew she was thinking the same thing.

Leliana, ever perceptive, inclined her head slightly in understanding.

Zevran only smirked, as if entertained by the entire situation.

Alex exhaled and turned back to the Keeper.

"Fine," he said, his voice resolute. "We'll deal with your werewolf problem."