"I can hardly blame you for that prudence." (She totally can, but admitting it would be imprudent)

"May I beg sanctuary of you?"

"I doubt that you could leave the area before the darkspawn descended upon us. If your explanation is not urgent - "

The other wardens shake their heads and make various noncommittal sounds.

" - then I will discuss our defenses with Teyrn Loghaine. All of you are to remain inside the camp."

Once Duncan steps out she turns to the junior wardens and cracks a smile.

"Well that could have gone worse."

"It really could've!" agrees Aria, brightly, "Duncan's a reasonable sort in general, though. You eaten anything lately?"

She hasn't eaten anything lately, and if she had she would probably have lost it along with the rest of the contents of her intestines.

"...not since leaving home. I suppose if there's a battle imminent I should eat first. Since battles tend to be pretty tiring."

"That's what I figure," says Aria, strolling off towards a different area of the camp. "You know how to fight? We must be leaving the camp followers somewhere, if you don't, but numbers help."

"I do. Quite well, in fact - but not well enough to turn the tide of a battle with a horde of darkspawn. My skills are better suited for smaller-scale, tactical applications."

"That's fine. I don't think anybody's that good. 'S why we have armies."

"Aria killed an Arl's entire garrison, though."

"Yeah. I did. It was awesome," she says easily, but she turns away from the others and picks up the pace.

That's impressive. And excessive. And maybe indicative of at least a touch of poor judgement to even get into a situation where that would be necessary. And more than a tad upsetting to her, given her reaction.

"Ah... Food? Food, let's eat."

There is food! Not a ton of food, as most people are getting ready for the battle, but there's bread and cheese and some grilled vegetables and lukewarm stew full of unidentifiable chunks of meat. They're not required to pay for it - the three of them are recognized as wardens, and Malak is clearly associated with them. Draconis pokes at the stew suspiciously. Aria and Alistair don't have any trouble eating it, though Aria's still avoiding eye contact with anyone else.

She really hasn't eaten in hours, and the stew probably does not contain people. She eats at a measured pace, but unreluctantly. After a couple minutes, she puts a hand on Aria's elbow and leans in, speaking softly enough that Draconis shouldn't hear.

"Sometimes circumstances force us to do things we're not proud of. You aren't a worse person for having worse fortune than others."

Well that's weird. Nice? But weird. Then again, so is everyone around here, and it beats the automatic assumption that she's a murderous psychopath.

"We do our best," she murmurs. "I'm sure that means you, too."

"That we do. In the end, that's what counts, or at least so I'm inclined to believe."

The table is quiet for a moderate amount of time. Alistair is the one to break the silence.

"So. Your mother's an apostate, then?"

"...And an immortal shapechanger out of legend. I suppose you could say that those aren't entirely unrelated, but..."

"Uh-huh," says Alistair, with a distinct air of skepticism. "And you think she's - responsible for the blight, somehow?"

"I have no idea how she managed it but yes, I think she is. It's her style, just on a bigger scale than I've seen before."

"....what've you seen before?"

"She escalated a feud between a couple of Antivan princes into an armed conflict so that she could gain influence with a third. She sparked an - ultimately failed - rebellion in Rivain as cover for an assassination. She arranged the assassination of Emperor Florian and spent a year taking advantage of the state of near-civil-war that left Orlais in. She creates chaos as a smokescreen for her schemes, I don't know what she's planning that would need a whole blight to cover it but whatever it is I'm sure I don't want it to happen."

"Well that's concerning," says Aria, thoughtfully munching the last of her bread. She's mostly trying to figure out whether the spirits could've known anything about this, and also how seriously she should be taking spirits anyway. Probably at least a little seriously, if they can raise the dead. "Anyway. Glad we ran into you, then. We should probably check where Duncan wants us for the fight."

Malak isn't looking forward to taking part in a pitched battle, but at least their orders should give a sense of whether Duncan believed her at all. Or trusts her.

"Mm." is all she says.

Duncan appears no more pleased with the situation than he did when he left. "The three of you are to report to the Tower of Ishal, where you will light the beacon at my signal. The beacon is of vital strategic importance, and without it, Teyrn Loghain's men will not know when to emerge from their positions and charge."

"You need three people just to hold a torch?" says Alistair, dubiously.