This post's authors have general content warnings that might apply to the current post.
View Flat HTML
View Metadata
Search Post
The Alienage in Denerim is not what you'd call a nice place to live, but it's calm, and it has some nice scenery. Enormous tree, shanty-huts, that sort of thing. And the people are always interesting.
One of those interesting people is standing shadily on a street corner and looking at nearby elves. One of his hands is in his pocket. He's unusually dark for someone in Ferelden. Unusually human, too, though he's hunched over so that it's not immediately obvious. And he's muttering to himself, which is a sure way to make people not want to look at someone.
The things he's muttering to himself aren't the ravings of a madman, though. "Not her, I'm sure she'd just rupture... couldn't get him... promising. Excuse me, young man?" he quavers in the voice of an old beggar. "Spare a silver?"
Valendrian's eyes widen in shock. "Blood mages? Sacrificing- Maker preserve us. I knew that some were missing, but... this is not good. Duncan, what can be done about this?"
Duncan sighs. "This is... troubling. But the Blight must take priority. I must go to Ostagar, but I will make sure the guards are informed of this and it is made clear that I expect results."
"The guards? Duncan, they would leave every elf in the city rotting in the streets but for the smell!"
"That may be true, old friend, but they know well enough to fear me. I will return from Ostagar in a few weeks, and if one elf has gone missing then the guards know there will be hell to pay. And I will tell Loghain of this; I know that I can trust him to defend the people of this realm."
Duncan sighs. "This is... troubling. But the Blight must take priority. I must go to Ostagar, but I will make sure the guards are informed of this and it is made clear that I expect results."
"The guards? Duncan, they would leave every elf in the city rotting in the streets but for the smell!"
"That may be true, old friend, but they know well enough to fear me. I will return from Ostagar in a few weeks, and if one elf has gone missing then the guards know there will be hell to pay. And I will tell Loghain of this; I know that I can trust him to defend the people of this realm."
"I am Duncan, commander of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden," says Duncan, taking in Tev's appearance with the eye of a man who knows what he is looking for. "Currently recruiting potential Wardens to fight the impending Blight. And yourself?"
"Son, you apparently just killed blood mages and trained mercenaries in a building full of demons and you don't have a scratch on you," Duncan says seriously. "If you didn't want to join, I would be forced to carry you to Ostagar myself. I can only thank you for making this easier on my back."
moreperfect
"Yeah, I think I weigh about three times what I did this morning," Tev says agreeably. "All right. You have yourself a recruit."
Duncan grins and claps a hand on Tev's shoulder. "Excellent. What preparations do you want to make before heading out? Do you have a family or loved ones you want to say goodbye to?"
moreperfect
He shakes his head. "I could go get my change of clothes, but I don't think they fit me anymore. And I think the blood mages did something with my shoes. Do Grey Warden recruits get shoes?"
"Traditionally, yes. I believe shirts are included in the recruitment package as well. And perhaps a sword, unless you'd prefer to just bash your enemies with your priceless artifact."
"I think we will, if only for appearances' sake. You can still mostly bash your opponents with the artifact."
"I've already been through the rest of the Alienage and haven't come up with any other potential recruits, so if you're ready to go then we can be on our way. Probably stopping in the market square for clothes and sword and... probably food, unless you're somehow not hungry after tripling in size."
"There's an excellent Orlesian place I've been missing lately, unless you've got some suggestion. Though we'd have to get you shoes and a shirt first, their policies are quite clear."
"Good, good. Valendrian, it's been wonderful to see you. I will have the captain on this blood mage issue, and Loghain will be informed as soon as I get to Ostagar. I'll see you again soon. In the meantime, dareth shiral, falon."
"Dareth shiral, lethallin." Valendrian turns to Tev. "I will mourn the deaths of our kinsmen, but you honor them by using the power you have been given to protect our world from the Blight. I am proud of you, Sentevlan. Dareth shiral, lenaan. May the Maker watch over you."
"Dareth shiral, lethallin." Valendrian turns to Tev. "I will mourn the deaths of our kinsmen, but you honor them by using the power you have been given to protect our world from the Blight. I am proud of you, Sentevlan. Dareth shiral, lenaan. May the Maker watch over you."
Duncan leads him into Market Square, and brings him into a store advertising vanilla scent "the finest selection of clothing this side of Orlais". In a whirl of measuring tape and cotton, Tev is provided with five travel-appropriate outfits that actually fit him, and two pairs of very sturdy (and moderately fashionable) boots. And fifteen pairs of socks. "It's in the mountains, extra socks are a good idea."
moreperfect
This is more clothes than Tev has ever owned at once.
"Thank you," he says, very sincerely.
"Thank you," he says, very sincerely.
Duncan looks sad, for a moment, but the sparkle returns to his eye quickly enough that it may not have happened at all. "So! Orlesian food. Ever had it?"
"It's excellent, as long as you stay away from the snails. Lots of good seafood, and their bread alone is half worth the price of the meal. Which is saying something. Come along, I'll introduce you to the wonders of Orlais." He pauses. "Not those wonders. The food wonders."