There's a woman waiting - lurking, perhaps, might be a better verb - off the roadside near a bend a couple hundred feet from the edge of the encampment. Her eyes flicker over the three of them, lingering briefly on Alistair's armor as she steps into view and walks towards them.

"Please, ser, this is important, I have information for the grey wardens but the soldiers wouldn't let me into the camp, not even under guard, please ser it's about the blight -"

Draconis stares blankly. Alistair moves to step out in front of them, like they need to be protected - which, uh, maybe they do, they've kind of both been killed in the past day or so, that's not a great track record. But she's pretty sure the first of the labors is to stop the blight, and the wacky spirit things have kind of thrown her a bone with the whole not-getting-her-friends-killed thing, so she figures she should probably at least attempt to repay them in kind.

She steps out in front of Alistair, puts on her most diplomatic smile, and does her best to ignore how much her throat hurts right now. "Hey. What'cha need?"

A brief moment of confusion - the elf doesn't look like an officer - but then Malak's focus shifts and - 

(- The elf looks tired - Fade, she looks half-dead - might be more willing to listen just out of sheer exhaustion, might be willing to let Malak in just so she'll be someone else's problem, less likely to spot a misdirection or falsehood - she's an elf, not used to being respected, being polite is an easy way to get on her good side - )

Malak shifts her balance slightly, stooping a tiny bit to bring her eye level just below the other woman's - "The grey wardens, ma'am. I have a report to make to their commander, Duncan, about the scouting expedition he sent into the wilds, but the soldiers on guard wouldn't let me in to make it. Said I obviously - " she gestures slightly at her Chasind clothing - "didn't have any real business in the camp and must be lying."

Aria tries to say something, but ends up choking on it. For a second, she sounds like she's about to cough up blood. Alistair says something in a concerned tone that she can't quite make out, and then Draconis moves his hands and says something else, and suddenly she can breathe again.

"Thanks," she rasps, but she feels like she can mostly talk now. She straightens up and looks at Malak again. "Sorry. We're a little worse for wear at the moment. But we're all grey wardens, and we're heading back to see Duncan now. We can take a message or try to get you in with us, up to you." 

"I doubt we can personally get unrelated civilians into the camp," puts in Alistair, frowning. "Particularly right now."

"...that's fair. We're sort of in trouble. But we can take a message - we're not in shoot-on-sight trouble, and they have to let us back in to tell us exactly how much trouble we're in."

Aria smiles as brightly as she's capable of, under the circumstances. Alistair groans.

"Ah. Well. I have information about this blight and about where his treaties are. And it's...complicated enough that I should probably explain it directly, rather than through intermediaries?"

Also she wants assurances of safety which a bunch of - disgraced? - junior wardens probably can't provide. But mentioning that would be impolitic.

"Yeah, that seems important. We might as well ask, worst they're gonna do is not let you in."

She actually has no idea what the worst the grey wardens can do is, given that Duncan straight-up murdered Jory the last time she saw him, but apart from that they've been all right so far.

She's sure the Wardens can do worse but it's not like she's got a ton of better options. Run away and join the Qunari, maybe. She's pretty sure she doesn't want to do that.

"Let's ask, then."

The guards on duty recognize them all, including Malak. Aria summons her best diplomatic smile and all of her confidence, cheerfully tells them that the four of them are all on official warden business, and silently prays that Duncan hasn't started a manhunt for them in the past day or so.

They glance at Alistair. Apparently his expression is consistent with them being on official warden business, because the guards allow them all in without a problem.

"Huh. Sometimes I'm conveniently wrong," says Aria, when they're well inside the gates.

"Convenient." She's still not optimistic. Being introduced to the Wardens' leader by a group who are in unspecified amounts of trouble for unspecified reasons is not the best introduction she could hope for, and it's not like her story would be very plausible even if presented in the best possible way.

It's a bit of a walk to the Wardens' area of the camp. There are dozens of different tents scattered across the camp, some of them obviously soldiers' quarters and some of them more specialized - there are shops, some people tasked with guarding the kennels, and an area that's been sealed off for use by the circle of magi.

"We didn't get your name," says Draconis, before they reach their destination.

"Malak. Just Malak."

"Malak," he repeats, then points to each of them in turn. "Draconis Amell, Aria Tabris, and Alistair's just Alistair. As far as he's told me, anyway."

"Just Alistair," confirms Alistair, before whispering something to Aria. She shrugs at whatever it is and doesn't appear to take it seriously.

Duncan looks very grave when they reach him. He frowns at Alistair and Aria, but pauses longest on Draconis, as if he’s trying to puzzle something out. He doesn’t immediately acknowledge Malak at all.

"I trust you have an explanation,” says Duncan.

"We do. But it's sensitive. And sorta long. And we also found someone who says she has vital information about the blight."

"I think my mother - that would be Felandris, or Flemeth, or the Witch of Wilds - started this blight. Intentionally. Also she stole your treaties."

Alistair stares incredulously at Malak. Aria crosses her arms as if this is a totally reasonable and believable thing to report. (It's not. It's completely unbelievable. But it's not more unbelievable than anything else that's happened in the past day, so there's that.)

"Why do you think this?" asks Duncan, not giving any sign one way or another whether he's taking the assertion seriously.

"She knew about it. Months ago, before the darkspawn numbers started increasing, before they showed any signs of organization, she knew. She said that you would need those treaties and then sent me into the swamp to take them out of your reach. She wants you to lose the battle here, she's been arranging it - I don't know how, she doesn't tell me everything, but she talks about pieces coming together, about your impending defeat here - "

"Now wait just a minute - " says Alistair.

"Do you have these treaties with you?" asks Duncan, who is apparently not interested in waiting just a minute.

"No, I brought them to her months ago before I - defected, I guess? I couldn't get them when I left."

"Do you have any evidence that what you say is true? Or, failing that, any information on how your mother intends to bring about the loss of this battle?"

"I don't. I think she's planning to assassinate one of your commanders? Loghaine Mac Tir? I could take you to her home in the swamp but I can't see why you'd follow me if you don't already believe me, you'd need a lot of soldiers if you wanted to take her in a fight, she's a mage and a shapechanger..."

"I see," says Duncan, gravely. "I can inform Teyrn Loghain of the danger, but I cannot take drastic action on your word alone, even if my comrades vouch for your honesty."

"Oh, we don't vouch for her anything," puts in Alistair.