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From the Ashes: Glimmers of Light (ch. 24)
🕑 Added 2023-02-04 15:50:23 +0000 UTC"Tell Durian I want our people out of Edgehall. The whole alienage," I told the runners. "It's located outside the city and it's right fuckin' dead in the hordes’ path. Get them all out. Kicking and screaming if you have to," I continued, sitting on a stump of a tree. A number had been felled to build up fortifications around Lothering. They wouldn't do much, but I suppose it was better than nothing. "Same for South Reach and Gwaren -- they're lost. They just don't know it yet." Alim would be reluctant, but Shianni would obey. I already sent her, Alim, and Durian letters about it from the ravens that had fled to Lothering when the ogre came. The runners were to provide extra muscle when it came time to leave.
"What about the humans?" A runner asked, his eyes wide and his face pale.
"What about them?" I questioned, an edge in my tone. The answer was instinctual. I didn't need to even think about it. My lips thinned after a second as I swept my eyes over the Rabbits that escaped Ostagar -- fifty of them in total. I was sending them out in two groups of twenty-five. After a second, I let out a sigh. "If the humans want to come, they're welcome to, but my priority is the elves."
Not everyone would want to leave. The humans might dig their heels in when it came to all of their servants leaving them. As much as I would like it to, it wouldn't be a quick and easy get in and get out. Not to mention, it would be a long road to Denerim. The Rabbits would group up there and in Amaranthine -- the two most likely places that would be overrun by refugees.
"And this," I said, handing a letter to the group that would be heading to Shianni, "is Grey Warden business. Give it to Shianni and tell her it's for the Warden Commanders in Orlais, the Free Marches, and Nevvara," I instructed and the elf stood a little taller at being entrusted to deliver such an important message. It wasn't as important as he thought. It was more or less detailing that shit was fucked and so were we, so if they had any assistance to offer then it would be appreciated.
"Do you all understand your tasks? Lives are on the line, people. Thousands of our kind. We need to get them out first because we all know that if we don't leave first, we will leave last," I spoke, earning a round of nods. "Go see the quartermaster about camping supplies and rations. And this," I said, reaching into my bag and gifting each group fifty silver each, "Is bribe money. You're welcome to whatever is left so be stingy, yeah?"
I got more than a few cheers at that before the elves began to break off, going to leave immediately. The sooner they left, the better it would be for everyone. I watched them go and caught sight of Morrigan and Theron waiting for me to rejoin them. Morrigan seemed suitably impressed with me as she watched the elves go. Theron watched them as well, a faintly conflicted expression on his face.
"I see that you have no trouble prioritizing," Morrigan remarked, proving that she heard the exchange. "T'is a good thing. It is why you so effortlessly took control over this merry band," she continued, making Theron grimace.
"Can they be trusted to follow through?" He asked, and I could see that he was looking for a reason to go back to the Dalish. He would know that Gwaren was near the Tiger forest.
"I'm a fan of redundancy. I sent letters ahead of them. If they don't show up, then it means I couldn't trust them," I answered, standing up. "And if you mean that they'll go running off to save the humans -- I'm not sure if you were told, but my Rabbits have a joining ritual. Those fifty elves? Each and every one of them murdered a human in cold blood as their initiation to the gang," I informed and it seemed that Theron hadn't known that.
He glanced back at them, not thinking that they were cold-blooded killers. "I… see," he muttered and I could see him struggling to fit the information into his ironclad beliefs. That city elves were boot-licking cowards that bent to the will of the humans.
"Do you truly intend to let that singing cod amongst us?" Morrigan questioned, the cod in question being Leliana. There was a clear note of disapproval in her voice. I really had no clue what her issue with Leliana was. Morrigan just seemed to take an instant dislike to her.
"I am reluctant to trust anyone that says they work on behalf of the Creators," Theron seconded.
I shrugged, "Who am I to resist the will of the Maker?" I questioned, striding past the two to enter Lothering once more. "And she's seen combat. She moves like a thief. I'm personally more concerned about her being Orlesian than her vision of the Maker, but I'll take what I can get." I decided, making Morrigan's lips curl back.
"Are we truly so desperate?" She questioned, earning a flat look.
"Given the odds are that we're all going to die screaming in horrible antagonizing pain… yeah, kinda," I told her and that made her look off to the side sharply. My gaze then slid to Theron, "And if you want to fuck off back to the Dalish, then feel free. Better now than when I think I could count on you." I added, heading to the stables.
"Do you truly expect so little from me?" He questioned, his tone sharp.
"You're Dalish. I've learned not to expect anything from you." That shut him up right quick, much to my surprise. I thought he would protest. Maybe leave in a huff. Instead, he followed behind me, simmering with anger but following all the same. I still wouldn't expect anything from him beyond pulling a runner when he could, probably when it was most inconvenient for me.
Morrigan watched the exchange with dull amusement, but also said nothing as we entered the stables. It was filled with horses with a pen on the edge of the city filled with more. I saw a human rubbing a horse down with some straw, his face weathered and grey, and when he took noticed of us, his eyes tightened.
Then his gaze lowered to my chest and the griffon emblazoned upon it.
“Yer the Wardens?” He asked, his accent so thick that I could only guess exactly what he was saying. “No one said nuthin about elves.”
“Because they wanted to surprise you. Surprise. We need to collect five horses,” I responded, my tone dry and inviting. He squinted at me, not at all pleased with my tone. I smiled at him, waiting for him to dig his heels in.
He looked away, “Hmph. Sum soldiers told me ye’d stop by. Five horses, issit?” He muttered, his tone grumpy as he began to display the horses. Morrigan and Theron both turned their noses up to the creatures.
“Hideous beasts. Halla are far more graceful. Nor do they smell,” Theron muttered, squinting at a chestnut brown horse that looked at him. His nose flared, baying, and I figured that the horse was similarly unimpressed with him.
“I do not need such an animal to travel,” Morrigan declared, her tone haughty. I cocked an eyebrow at her, making her turn up her chin at me, but she made no effort to explain. I shrugged my shoulders while I approached the horses. I got used to riding them on the march down. Sad as it was, the horse I rode on was likely darkspawn food.
Channeling magic to my throat and ears, I spoke in a low voice to a black horse with a black mane, “You don’t look like you scare, easy, do ya’?” I questioned, stroking the horse's neck.
The horse looked at me, dark eyes blinking in mild surprise. “I don’t,” the horse bayed in response.
“Good. We’ll be leaving the village with five of you, and where we're going, we’re going to need the bravest horses around. Won’t kick us off when they’re a little startled. You know four others like that?” I asked the horse, earning what sounded like a chuckle before the horse wandered off to gather up four other horses. Elissa gave me five, so I would be taking five.
“T’was a most interesting display of magic,” Morrigan remarked, her gaze sharp with interest. “It understood you? What did it say? Where did you learn such fascinating magic?”
Theron looked at her. His face wore an ugly scowl -- which was normal for him -- but his eyes held a deeper anger. The kind that I half expected him to draw a blade over it and try to slide it between Morrigan’s ribs. “It is elven magic. It is not for you, shemlen,” he spat at Morrigan before turning his glare to me. “He learned it in an elven tome that he hoarded for himself.”
“To my memory, I shared that tome with Merrill. I shouldn’t have, in hindsight. Forgot half the damn book on my way back to Denerim,” I responded while Morrigan glared angrily right back at Theron.
“You said you found us by accident, Azoth. That was a lie. Merrill knows the same spell and she spoke to Bright Feathers,” Theron spoke, making me frown. Oh. Right. Bright Feathers, the first bird I ever spoke to. Hard to recall, really. I wonder how he was doing?
“So Merrill learned something from the book? Good for her,” I dismissed his ire easily and with a shrug. “What do you want from me, Theron? An apology? Go fuck yourself -- I’m not sorry. I didn’t know any of you, I didn’t trust any of you, and I was afraid you’d cast me out when you found out that I lied about how I found you. And you know what? You bloody right did that.”
Theron threw up his hands and walked away while I scoffed, the black horse approaching with four others. Morrigan watched him go, “It may be unwise to push him further. He may very truly leave at this rate,” she remarked, casting me a glance. She sounded like she couldn’t care less, but the fact that she was saying something said otherwise. “This tome? What else did you learn from it?”
“A bit of this and a bit of that. The tome was about Druids and their spells. Didn’t possess all of them, though. Sadly. And I ended up forgetting a chunk of it before I made any progress with some spells,” I admitted. “It mostly involves animals and plants -- speaking to them and using magic to change them.”
“I would be most interested in learning this,” Morrigan remarked, striding closer to me, her eyes going half lidded as she tilted her head. A very familiar expression appearing on her face.
“I’m sure you would be,” I responded, not reacting to the expression or her close proximity. “I’m curious on why you won’t need a horse to travel on. I don’t suspect you intend to walk,” I remarked. Morrigan seemed oddly disappointed, but she inclined her head to me, acknowledging my point.
“I intend to fly. I know many magics that were taught to me by my mother -- many of which are very old, and some have been forgotten, save from her. Of them is the ability to take the forms of animals- ah, I see I have your interest,” Morrigan remarked, sounding pleased.
I thought on the Tower of Ishal. “I don’t suppose one of those forms is a dragon?” I asked her, prompting Morrigan to sigh.
“Sadly, not. T’is not a form my mother would share. However, I can take the form of a giant spider, as well as a number of beasts -- wolves, bears, cats, and birds,” she informed.
A bird? “A raven?” I questioned, thinking back on the one that had been in the wilds, the only animal to be seen beyond ravenous wolves. Morrigan smirked, inclining her head to me, answering the question. “Well, it would have been nice to turn into a dragon, but I see your point.”
“What I purpose is an exchange of knowledge,” Morrigan said, watching me carefully. “Your knowledge of these druids, as you call them, in exchange for my knowledge of shapeshifting. T’is beneficial to us both,” she added as if I needed any extra convincing.
Shapechanging would be very nice. Being invisible was good, but being able to fly? To hide in plain sight as an animal? You could never have too many cards up your sleeves. If I had my way, I wanted a whole deck.
“You have a deal, Morrigan,” I told her. I had the journals in my bag. Morrigan smiled -- a genuine one, as far as I could tell. Like Merrill, she seemed to love the act of learning magic. She loved magic itself. With no shame nor reservation. It made me reflect on my own attitude to it.
I spent so much of my life hating my magic, suppressing it… and now, I treated it as a tool. I liked learning magic, but mostly because it would help facilitate my goals and ambitions. I didn’t love magic like she did, nor like Merrill. I wasn’t quite sure why, but that made me a little sad, I think. Like I was missing out on something great and wonderful.
The black horse nudged me in the back, nearly making me stumble into Morrigan, not at all content to be ignored, “I have gathered the bravest amongst us. We will require fine oats and plentiful grass if you and your herd wish to ride us,” the black horse uttered and I sighed.
“Yeah, yeah,” I agreed, already knowing the deal at this point. “Only finest of oats. I do solemnly swear.”
With the horses ready, complete with saddles and oats for them to eat for about a week, Morrigan and I went about purchasing everything else that we would need for the journey. Rations were in short order on account of all the refugees, but we were able to secure a couple of tents. Three of them -- one for me, Alistair, and Theron, one for Leliana, and one for Morrigan since she insisted on getting her own. We also got an assortment of gear I thought we might need eventually -- rope, bandages, climbing equipment, a lot of elfroot for stuff such as cleaning our teeth to brewing health potions.
The entire assortment cost me thirty silvers -- an extortionate amount, but everyone was buying the same supplies for their own journeys. Demand was high and supply was low, as it were.
We made our way to the tavern, a low building that didn’t look at all equipped to handle the number of people that were inside of it. It was bigger than I would expect for a village of this size, but that was probably because it saw a lot of through traffic of people making their way from one end of Ferelden to the other.
Once inside, it was fairly simple to pick out Alistair and Leliana. The former’s Grey Warden attire stood out as much as Leliana’s Chantry attire. The people gave them both a wide berth out of respect or fear, letting us approach with ease to take a seat at the table and Alistair waved us over to sit down. I left the two together since I figured their shared religious background would be common ground.
"Where is Theron?" Alistair questioned, earning a shrug from me.
"Run off to sulk, I imagine," Morrigan noted, scornful.
Alistair gave me a pointed look, "You're too hard on him, Azoth. He's away from everything he's known, away from his people. I thought you would be more understanding," he pointed out and I shook my head.
"Then he should go back to his people," I retorted and the sharp look became a glare. "It sucks that he's been separated from his clan and family. It does. Heart goes out to him about it. And I don't hate him or anything. I just don't like him or the Dalish and I have no problem telling him as much," I responded to the accusatory glare.
"Yeah, that's the problem," Alistair remarked, a sigh in his voice. "The rest of us are human, so we can't exactly approach him without him getting… cagey. And you treat him the worst out of all of us."
I shrugged, unrepentant and I was saved from the conversation when a human barmaid approached. "Milords, we have a warm pot of stew if you would like some. And we still have ale, despite everyone's best attempts to drain us dry." In response, I pulled out a bag of coppers and stacked then on the table. The barmaid's eyes widened a fraction before she scurried off to give us our order.
Seizing the chance, I changed the topic. "We have horses and tents. Enough for all of us."
Alistair nodded his head at me, "Right. I was asking around about that. So, if you don't mind me asking, Azoth… how much money is in that bottomless bag of yours?"
"Don't worry about it," I responded, making his eyebrows draw together.
"You keep saying that about things I should be worried about. Like, for example… when was I supposed to start worrying that you were an apostate?" He asked me, a faint accusation in his tone.
"Roughly the same time that I busted out in demons, I imagine," I said, crossing my arms. Leliana seemed delighted.
"You are a mage? How incredible," she noted, no signs of the fear that learned to expect when my magic was revealed. I didn't at all care for the fact that the secret was getting out. However, I did understand that this conversation was bound to happen at some point. I just wished Alistair would have had it in private.
"That's not a concern. Anymore, I mean," Alistair said, his expression pinching. "Grey Wardens can't be possessed unless they want to be. At least, that's what… Duncan told me." He explained, his expression tightening at the mention of his mentor. "But you didn't tell us. Any of us. Why?"
Morrigan scoffed, but I answered. "It's not something I go about shouting from the rooftops."
"Have you had any training? I've never seen magic do that before. You… turned us invisible at the tower. And you made yourself look like a darkspawn?" Alistair questioned and Morrigan looked very interested in that. Alistair really had no concept of subtlety.
"Illusion magic," I answered. "And no. No formal schooling. Found a couple of books that got after killing an old demon that lived in Denerim, but that's about it."
Leliana seemed interested but Alistair spoke, "Demon…?"
"Don't worry about it," I told him with a sharp smirk. A second later, the food and ale arrived -- the stew was filled with a dark broth, chunks of meat, and vegetables while the ale itself was also dark. A basket of bread was also offered and my stomach made it known how empty it was.
"Well, I'm worried. About a lot of things. Like you choking," Alistair added when I began wolfing the stew down, dunking my bread into the stew before taking a massive bite out of it. It wasn't ever particularly good stew -- the meat was chewy and lean, the vegetables were undercooked, but it tasted absolutely delicious. I gulped down the ale and before the others even managed to get halfway done, I was polishing off my bowl and I still felt starving.
"I'm more surprised that you had no idea," I told Alistair, waving the bar made down for seconds.
Alistair's gaze flickered to Leliana, who was silently watching the interaction. During that time, Morrigan slipped in a barbed comment.
"A templar never noticing a mage right under their nose? I am so very shocked," she remarked, narrowing her eyes at Alistair.
He seemed to debate on answering as I quickly ate my second bowl of stew, "I can't sense mages. I left the order before I took any vows, but I still have the abilities of one. The only difference between me and other templars is that I've never taken any Lyrium," Alistair told us in a low tone. Leliana didn't seem surprised -- given she lived in a Chantry, I wasn't surprised about that. Morrigan seemed surprised, though. "New Templars can only really sense a mage when they're casting magic. The effect gets more pronounced as you get older and you drink more of it. The older Templars, they can sense when the fade is thin and the presence of spirits, just like a mage can."
Huh. Interesting. I hadn't known that. The information was useful -- it meant that I couldn't cast at all around Templars without being discovered.
"So, if I hadn't cast in front of you, you never would have known? Good to know," I muttered.
"That, and you don't use a staff. Why is that? All mages use a staff. Even Morrigan does," he pointed out, casting a mild look in her direction. I finished off my second bowl and Leliana, in an act to butter me up, slid her hardly touched bowl of stew over to me and I helped myself to it. My stomach felt as vast as my bag of holding.
"Can't. I tried when I was with the Dalish, but all I got was a fissile and a pop. It's easier for me to cast with me hands," I said, quickly working through the third bowl of stew. "Merrill -- the First for the Clan -- said I was missing out on power and mileage when it came to mana, but it's never been much of a problem before." At least, not until I rescued Theron. That had been the first time I had felt that hollow feeling.
Morrigan narrowed her eyes at me, as if I were a puzzle that she was trying to figure out.
"Well… I would have appreciated the heads up, Azoth. No more secrets?" He requested, giving me an expression that could be best described as puppyish.
"I'm not sure you want to know my secrets," I told him, polishing off my third bowl of stew with the last piece of bread. I finished off my flagging of ale and let out a content sigh, my stomach no longer trying to consume itself. Even if it did feel like I could still eat another bowl or two.
"Not ominous at all," Alistair muttered while Leliana giggled.
"I see rumors about Grey Warden appetites are most deserved," she remarked as I began to eye Morrigan's bowl. She waved me off, not letting me near it and the action was punctuated with a glare that I would lose fingers if I tried. "If you would excuse me, I must tell the Revered Mother that I intend to depart with you."
She wasn't a normal Laysister. That much was certain. Her gaze was just a little too sharp. There was a story there. And, human or not, we could use all the help we get.
"We'll be setting out with the army," I told her, letting her know she had time to prepare. Or back out if she had second thoughts.
In response, Leliana curtsied before walking off with a smile on her face. I watched her go, once again noticing how gracefully she moved. Looking back at the others, Alistair looked faintly amused.
"You dog," he remarked while Morrigan scowled at me.
"She moves like a killer," I remarked, standing up. "Don't know who or what she was, but she certainly wasn't always a member of the Chantry." I continued, making Alistair nod ever so slightly. Morrigan hastily finished her stew before following us out. "We gave Theron enough time. If he's going to run off, he'll be gone by now," I continued, leaving the tavern.
I honestly thought he would be gone, I reflected as we entered the village. I had no clue where he would be, likely on the road to the Brecilian forest, but Alistair led the way. He didn't say it in words, but it seemed that experienced Grey Wardens could sense each other. That was good to know.
Instead, we found Theron on the edge of the village, standing before a cage that had a man in it. It wasn't a particularly large cage to begin with, but it was five sizes too small to fit the man inside of it. They stood hunched over, knees bent, shoulders squeezed together. They wore a pair of ragged pants without any shoes or a shirt, revealing dark brownish gray skin with white hair in a rough row of braids.
Theron looked over as we approached, his lips thinning when they landed on me. “The humans claimed to have captured a Qunari,” Theron informed, looking at the man in the cage.
“A Qunari?” Alistair questioned, as the Qunari in question shifted his head to look over at him. I saw he had indigo eyes. A few shades lighter than my own.
“You are the Grey Wardens? I am not impressed,” the Qunari remarked, his tone rough and haggard, but strong. His lips were chapped, his eyes bloodshot, and there was a hollowness to his cheeks that sported a few weeks growth of a beard.
“Me neither,” I returned. “People always said Qunari are ten feet tall, taller if you count the horns, and can rip a man in heavy plate apart with their bare hands. Mum used to say if I didn’t behave, the Qunari would snatch me right up to brainwash me.”
The Qunari scowled at me but said nothing, letting Theron talk. “His name is Sten of the Beresaad. He let himself be captured after he murdered a family of humans. I reckon he could break out now if he wanted to.” He voiced, looking at me, an edge in his voice.
“I do not want to,” Sten spoke up. “Leave me to die in peace. Thirst should claim me in the coming days.”
“I’ve offered him atonement. With us. Fighting the darkspawn,” Theron spoke and I was surprised that he was including himself in that ‘us.’ “He is a warrior. As you said, we are more likely to die screaming in horrible pain than we are to succeed, so we should take as much help as we can get.” Theron continued, throwing my own words right back at me.
I cocked an eyebrow, turning my gaze to Sten, who seemed to find it curious that I had the final say. He saw the unspoken question in my eyes and provided an answer. “If you truly are Grey Wardens, then I will seek atonement for my actions with you, fighting darkspawn. Failing that, in battle.”
I thought about it for a moment before I shrugged my shoulders, “Meh. Why not?” I questioned, casting Knock and Silence upon the gate before I swung it open. Sten blinked in surprise, his gaze going to the iron door that was opened. I wonder what he was thinking.
“You can’t be serious,” Alistair immediately began to gripe.
“T’is a wonderful idea. The Qunari is physically powerful as he is. Fully armored and well fed, perhaps we shall be a little less likely to die in horrible agony. T’would be most preferable,” Morrigan voiced, a laugh in her tone.
Theron nodded at me, as if I did him a favor. However, Sten looked conflicted for a long moment before coming to a decision. Slowly, he stepped out of the cage, rising to his full height. He was tall. A full head and shoulders taller than Alistair, who was fairly tall himself. I hardly came up to his chest and two of me could have fit in his broad shoulders.
I could hear his body protesting the strain, popping and cracking as he straightened out. A faint groan escaping him as he did so. He offered me a small nod, “I shall follow you into battle.” I suppose that was that. Quite the malty crew I was gathering.
“Come on. Let's get you kitted out,” I decided, waving him back into the village, only to pause when I felt something. I almost dismissed it until I saw Alistair's reaction, telling me that it wasn’t just me that felt it. Theron just seemed puzzled. Alistair’s gaze snapped to the side, going to the treeline near the imperial highway.
“Darkspawn,” he informed, drawing his sword and taking action. “A small band. Scouting party,” Alistair informed as I cast a glance at Sten, as well as Leliana, who approached and stared at Sten with wide eyes.
“Looks like we’re having a trial by fire,” I informed them, drawing Keening Blade and Fang as I followed Alistair out of the village. The others quickly followed behind, Theron and Leliana with bows, Morrigan her magic, while Sten had nothing but his bare hands. I caught sight of where Alistair was running -- Lothering was seated upon the intersection for the imperial highway. There was a road that came up from Ostagar, as well as the road that looped around the country.
The bridge that was meant to go over the valley had collapsed at some point, but a road had been established to connect the two pieces of road. It was upon the bridge, which would lead westward, towards Redcliff, that we saw a trade caravan -- one that was likely heading down south to Ostagar to take advantage of the army. I guess they didn’t catch word that the army was gone.
I saw the exact moment that the darkspawn began to materialize, digging up from the ground and pouring from the treeline, falling upon the caravan. The ones beneath the ground rushed the caravan guards who did a piss poor job of guarding the caravan, they panicked and screamed along with the merchants. The genlocks that dug up from the ground fell upon them, ripping them apart, and making an avenue of attack for the main party.
The darkspawn sensed our approach just as we sensed their attack. It was a small party of about fifteen darkspawn, but half of them pivoted to charge at Alistair and I. Two arrows flew over us, striking the darkspawn a moment before another was consumed by fire. A hurlock clashed against Alistair, who accepted the blow with his shield before he hacked at it.
Casting Minor Illusion, I forced a genlock to dodge a lob of imaginary fire I sent at it before sprouting another arm from my shoulder, forcing a hurlock to block an imaginary blade. With his weapon out of position, I thrust Fang up under his chin, skewering his brain. Stepping forward, I cast Entangle at the other charging darkspawn, making three of the six that charged fall flat on their faces.
Leliana and Theron dropped two of the charging ones while I killed the genlock. Sten dealt with the hurlock, dodging a sword swing with surprising deftness before ripping the square shield from its grasp before beating the darkspawn to death with it. Morrigan targeted the fallen darkspawn, killing them before they could stand. At the same time, Alistair and Sten began to charge toward the caravan.
The guards finally got their act together, putting up a defense. They were struggling against the darkspawn and their savage attacks. I saw one with blood splattered across his face, and even if he survived the battle, he would die of blight sickness. I thrust Keening Blade into the back of a hurlock before beheading it with Fang, casting Create Bonfire and Control Flame to engulf another two darkspawn.
The darkspawn fell quickly under our combined assault. Sten was giving me a heavy gaze, and I could feel the judgment that I had learned to expect when it came to revealing my magic. So, I cocked an eyebrow and smiled at him, waiting for it, only to be approached by the merchants of the caravan instead. Or, rather, they approached Alistair.
“You really saved our hide there, serah!” The dwarf stated, a neatly groomed beard of dark brown hair that matched his hair. His clothing was fine enough, clear enough that he wasn’t a poor peasant, but well worn. The same could be said for the man that stood next to him. An older man with well worn clothing and a face that spoke of hard living. “The names Bodan Feddic.”
“Er,” Alistair said, looking to me and I had to swallow a laugh at his evident panic. The dwarf also glanced at me, seemingly faintly surprised but not exactly displeased. The human, trying to provide a good impression, approached.
“As my colleague said, we would be far worse off without your timely arrival,” he spoke, his tone faintly Orlesian. “I am Felix de Grosbois,” he introduced himself with a sweeping bow. “A reward is in order, I believe,” he decided with due gravitas.
I knew when someone was puffing themselves up. Leliana spoke up, “No, missure, that will not be necessary!” She decided, making Morrigan scoff.
“If he desires to reward us, t’would be the height of foolishness to deny him,” Morrigan rebuked, narrowing her eyes at Leliana as if she had taken money out of her pocket.
“Please, I insist,” Felix decided, going back to a wagon and pulling out a blocky golden looking rod. I schooled my expression, but for a moment, I thought he was offering fifteen sovereigns worth of gold. “This is a golem control rod -- the golem it controls is over in Honnleath. It’s not valuable itself, but, to Grey Wardens fighting the darkspawn in time of a Blight…” He trailed off, handing me the rod. “The command words are Dulef Gar.”
“What?” Bohdan questioned, blurting the word out. “That’s no dwarvish I’ve heard before,” he remarked.
Felix looked a bit put out, but I ignored them in favor of taking the control rod.
Two apostates, a templar, a Dalish Elf, an Orlesian laysister with a sordid past, a Qunari warrior that murdered a family. And now, possibly, a golem.
Maybe this whole saving the world business won’t be so difficult after all.
