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Grey Wardens: Now Recruiting
Purples and Whites Save Thedas
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It had been a long trek from Ostagar all the way up to Highever, and Duncan so far had only one recruit to show for it. Ser Jory is a good man and a good fighter, but Duncan has his misgivings concerning how suited he is to being a Grey Warden--misgivings he cannot allow to influence his judgement. They are far too desperate.

But they are at Highever, now, and there will be Denerim after that. Duncan is speaking with the Teyrn when he catches a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye and turns to see who it is that just entered the room.

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A young woman, lightly armoured and wearing a sword and dagger at her belt. Bryce Cousland turns to her with a warm smile.

"Pup, Brother Aldous taught you who the Grey Wardens are, I hope."

"He might have mentioned something," she says dryly.

"This is Warden Duncan. Warden, this is my daughter, Elissa."

"Pleased to meet you," she says to the Warden. "Might I ask your business in Highever? Is it about the troops Father is sending south to Ostagar, or something else?"

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"Actually, I'm recruiting for the Grey Wardens," Duncan says. "I don't know if you've heard, but it's shaping up to be a Blight down south." He looks at her consideringly.

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"Don't give me that look," she says with a pleasant smile, "I'm going to be Teyrna of Highever and I hear Grey Wardens can't hold title. I think I have an idea of who you should talk to, though. I'll send him your way next time I see him."

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He holds up his hands in good-natured mock-defensiveness. "I didn't say a word. And that would be immensely useful."

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"Happy to help. You do good work."

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"Too many fail to realize that, even in these troubled times," he sighs.

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"Yes, it's a problem. You'd think they'd read a little history. Without the Grey Wardens, the whole world would look like the Anderfels by now. I'm not eager to see Ferelden go that way."

"Pup," says Bryce in a mildly reproving tone.

"Saying 'I sure wish wild animals would stop eating the chickens' is not, by itself, an insult to foxes," says Elissa. "On a completely unrelated note, how long is Arl Howe planning to stay?"

"A few more days, he said."

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"It would certainly make my job easier. So far I've only one recruit, besides your man if he works out."

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"I'm pretty sure he will. No guarantees, of course."

"Pup, can you find Fergus and tell him to take the troops south immediately? I'll follow later."

"Of course," says Elissa. "Once again, it was a pleasure to meet you, Warden Duncan."

She nods amicably to both of them and leaves the room.

Bryce Cousland is willing to discuss the Blight with Duncan for a few more minutes, but then he has other business to attend to. A few minutes after that, a young man with red hair and a pleasant face finds Duncan, introduces himself as Ser Gilmore, and admits to being sent by Elissa. He's nearly perfect recruit material. Elissa has a good head for this sort of thing.

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Excellent. Duncan makes his pitch with earnest seriousness.

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Ser Gilmore receives it with just as much earnest seriousness, and promises to think carefully about it; he doesn't want to make such a weighty decision without at least sleeping on it a night. He wishes Duncan the best of luck in his search.

Apart from him, there aren't many good prospects around. And Arl Howe, the Couslands' guest, is downright rude to Duncan when they pass each other in a corridor; trying to recruit from among his retinue would probably not be fruitful.

Night falls. The household quiets.

And then, in the middle of the night—

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Duncan awakes instantly, his well-honed survival instincts reacting before his conscious mind realizes there's anything to react to.

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For a few seconds there's no immediate sign of what woke him.

Then someone screams, long and loud, from the direction of the Couslands' rooms. And there are sounds of battle from a few other places. Thumps, clangs, yells, some of which cut off abruptly.

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Duncan leaps out of bed, not bothering with anything save his armor and weapons, before heading to the Couslands' chambers as quickly as possible. 

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In the little courtyard that joins all the family's rooms, he will find Elissa Cousland, three corpses, and a mabari hound with blood on his mouth. One of the dead men is wearing Cousland colours and lying in Elissa's doorway with an arrow in his back, as though he got there only just in time to warn her of the trouble; of the other two, both anonymously armoured, one has his head smashed in and both arms wrenched out of their sockets, and the other has one arm badly mauled and a dagger in his throat.

"Warden," greets Elissa, standing over the bodies in her underwear. "Arl Howe seems to think it's a nice night for a coup. Excuse me while I get my kit on. Seb, stand watch."

She disappears back into her room, closing the door as best she can around the Cousland guard's body. Her mabari stands in front of the door and eyes Duncan suspiciously.

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She killed those men barehanded in her underwear. 

 

Not the moment. Yet. "Do you know what's happened to the other Couslands?"

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"Not yet," she says. "I heard a scream but I don't know whose, I was a bit busy."

Now armed and armoured, she opens her door again and steps out, just in time to meet a very angry Eleanor Cousland coming out of the teyrn's rooms.

"Mother! Where's Father?"

"I don't know, he never came to bed - I heard a scream, was it - "

"Oriana, I think," says Elissa.

Eleanor steps into the room across from Elissa's. She pauses a moment. She withdraws, closes the door gently, and shakes her head.

"Rendon fucking Howe," says Elissa.

"Why would he do this?" says Eleanor.

"Power grab. Fergus just left with the army; what better time to murder us all in our beds? If I know Father, we'll find him in the front hall helping barricade the door if that's not a lost cause already, and waiting for us by the servants' entrance if it is." She glances at Duncan. "Care to help? We can get you safely out of the castle, if all goes well. I certainly wouldn't take my chances claiming Warden's neutrality with Howe if I were you."

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"Indeed not," he agrees with a grimace. "I would be glad to help in exchange for assistance out of the castle."

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"Thank you," says Eleanor. "Lead the way, Elissa."

"Seb, to me," she says. The mabari trots alertly at her side as she leads them through the castle.

Killing those men barehanded in her underwear was not a fluke. Elissa is a skilled fighter, and her dog is well-trained and smart even for a mabari. Eleanor's not bad either, but it's her daughter who's really impressive.

Bryce Cousland is not in the front hall. Ser Gilmore is. Elissa argues with him, but he insists on staying to hold off Arl Howe's men. They continue on to the kitchen without him.

Bryce Cousland is in the kitchen. Specifically, lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

"Fuck," says Elissa.

"Mind - your manners, pup."

"Fuck my manners. Can you walk?"

He shakes his head.

"Maker's blood," murmurs Eleanor.

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Duncan bends down to inspect the wound more closely, but all it does is confirm his first impression. He's seen enough battlefield deaths to recognize a wound that kills slowly but inevitably.  

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"At least one of us has to get to Ostagar to warn Fergus," says Elissa. "Mother?"

Eleanor shakes her head.

"Right then. Warden Duncan, mind if I travel with you?"

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He looks like he's about to say something, thinks better of it, and nods. "I would be honored."

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She nods back, hugs her mother, kisses her father's forehead, and leads Duncan down the tunnel and out of the castle. Not one for long emotional goodbyes, this girl.

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Probably for the best.

"I do have one recruit," Duncan sighs. "He lives in a town about a day's hike away. We can get horses there, too."

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"Ser Gilmore would've been a good one."

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He nods. "A pity he felt the need to stay behind."

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"The people of Highever needed him more than the world did at that point. I can relate."

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"Yes. I only regret that Arle Howe made it necessary." He shakes his head. "To pull this kind of thing during a Blight of all times..."

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"Some people just don't understand what 'the end of the world' really means."

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He nods. "We have survived Blights before. The First Blight went on for most of a century before the first Grey Wardens ever were. But I think we would all rather it not come to that. Especially since while humanity would most likely survive, Ferelden probably wouldn't."

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"Yes, exactly. Taking my family's lands won't do him much good if they're overrun by darkspawn a couple of months later. But of course he's not thinking about that."

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"Of course he isn't."

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Elissa sighs.

Her mabari woofs and nudges her leg with his nose.

She smiles slightly and gives him a scritch.

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Duncan also smiles slightly at the dog.

Eventually they reach the town where Ser Jory lives.

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Elissa is interested to meet Ser Jory!

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Duncan leads her to Ser Jory's house, and knocks on the door.

Ser Jory opens it. "...Duncan? I wasn't expecting you for another week."

"Plans change. It is now important that we leave immediately."

"What happened?"

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"A bit of political trouble," says Elissa, "which led to me needing to catch up with my brother in a hurry, and he's currently leading Highever troops to Ostagar, so here we are. I'm Elissa Cousland, and you must be Ser Jory. Pleased to meet you."

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"...Pleased to meet you, my lady," he says. "Give me a little time to finish packing and say goodbye to my wife."

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"Of course."

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He disappears back into the house for a while. When he re-emerges, he's wearing his armor and has a greatsword and a traveling pack slung over his shoulders. A pretty young woman briefly emerges after him to give him a brief kiss goodbye.

(It's not exactly obvious, but if you know what to look for she's noticeably pregnant.)

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Well. That's something all right.

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"I'm ready," Ser Jory says a bit reluctantly, after his wife goes back inside.

"Good," Duncan says. "We had best be on our way sooner rather than later. Do you know where we can procure horses for the trip to Denerim?"

"Oh--yes, there's this place over that way..."

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Elissa chats idly with Ser Jory on the way to the horse market. How old are you, what's your wife's name, why are you joining the Grey Wardens, that sort of thing.

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His wife's name is Helena (and she is lovely and wonderful). He won a tourney that was held, and Duncan approached him after. He's good with a blade--very good, to have impressed Duncan--and wishes to serve his country and the world however he best can.

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She congratulates him sincerely on his victory in the tourney.

"The world could use more people like you, Ser Jory."

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"Thank you, my lady," he says, appearing to be sincerely touched.

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Yeah. She's going to want to talk to Duncan about this.

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Duncan is completely oblivious to Elissa's plans. He is much more concerned with finalizing horse purchases so they can get to Denerim more quickly.

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Elissa turns out to be very good at speeding that sort of thing along!

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Oh, good.

It will be three and a half days before they get to Denerim.

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Her first opportunity to talk to Duncan is just after they leave town.

"You know," she says, "something tells me Ser Jory isn't going to make a very good Grey Warden."

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"...I won't pretend I haven't had misgivings," Duncan admits. "But 'not a very good Grey Warden' is better than no Grey Warden at all."

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"I'm not entirely sure that's true. I don't get the impression that even good Grey Wardens live very long. So he can be a bad Grey Warden and die young, or he can be a very good knight and live a long happy life and raise lots of children who will themselves probably also be very good knights. And who knows, some of them might even be Warden material."

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"When I say 'no Grey Warden at all,' I don't mean 'not having him as a Grey Warden,'" Duncan says wearily, "I mean none at all. He's my only recruit thus far."

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"I assume there is more than one Grey Warden in Ferelden even without Ser Jory's contribution. Am I wrong?"

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"Correct. There are two," he says. "Being a good knight won't do anyone any good if the Blight overwhelms Ferelden. Perhaps, if I am more successful in Denerim than I expect to be, it will be worth it to send him home."

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"Ah. And now it all makes sense. Well, best of luck to you in Denerim, then. I'll keep an eye out for possibilities."

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"Thank you. You were certainly right about Ser Gilmore."

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"It's one of my most useful skills."

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"Indeed," he says with a small smile. More soberly: "Although in times like these, the ability to kill armed men barehanded is not to be discounted."

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She laughs softly. "Yes, there is that."

Seb wags his tail.

"Having a loyal mabari does help."

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"It would at that."

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Seb woofs happily.

And onward to Denerim they go.

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It's a big day in Denerim. Well, part of Denerim. No one else in the city gives a shit about the alienage, which is a mixed blessing at the best of times.

It wasn't even supposed to be today. They were supposed to take longer to get here. Acara wishes they could have just held the wedding on the original date, given her a little time to get to know her fiance before literally marrying a stranger, ugh. Still, everyone's so excited--Shianni's so excited--so she won't complain too much. Not to anyone but her father.

She wishes her mother could have been here for this.

Brave face, Acara. Your people need you. Need you to not spoil their excuse to make merry.

Shianni bashing that arrogant lordling over the head helped. Nice mood pick-me-up, even if it added an undercurrent of worry for her. But there's no way the arl's son will admit an elven woman beat him up, so it'll probably be fine. And back to parading around, greeting everyone on her "special day"...

"Hi, Tev."

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"Hey, Acara. Congratulations," he says, a little wryly.

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"Thanks." And, because it's Tev: "I do kind of wish that they could have held the wedding itself on the day they were supposed to get here, so that I could have gotten to know more things about him than 'his name is Nelaros' and 'he thinks I'm pretty, or at least I hope that's why he had trouble talking to me'."

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"Yeah. Good luck."

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"Thanks. If he's terrible and I have to run off to join the Dalish I'll let you know so you don't think I was murdered."

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"Thanks, I appreciate it."

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"You're welcome." Sigh. "I should go back to smiling at people so they can vicariously enjoy my matrimony, I'll see you later."

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"See you."

It's nice that everyone's having fun, but Tev isn't much for parties. Too much commotion. He finds somewhere out of the way to sit and watch the festivities.

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He'll probably regret this when some blood mages kidnap him to perform horrific experiments on.

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...yes. Yes he will.

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Meanwhile Acara, in complete ignorance of Tev's plight, manages to locate her cousin who is also getting married, and then--more shemlen. Great.

"Excuse me," she says. "If you're here with good intentions, I think it's probably best that you leave. You're making people nervous. And if you're not here with good intentions, why, it's probably even wiser to get out of here as quick as can be."

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"I apologize," says Elissa. "Warden Duncan is looking for recruits, and I'm helping."

She's already helped once today!

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"Warden--like the Grey Wardens?"

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"Indeed," says an elderly elf, coming up behind her. "And one I know well. Duncan, old friend, it is good to see you."

"Likewise," Duncan says. "Although I could wish it were in happier circumstances. You've heard about the Blight, of course."

The elf shudders. "Yes, indeed."

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"Elder Valendrian!" she says, surprised. "Well, if these sh--these humans are here with your approval, I can hardly argue..."

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"And it's your wedding day," Valendrian chides, not unkindly. "You can leave watching out for troublemakers to the rest of us for one day, can't you?"

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"It doesn't turn off so easily, Elder, but I suppose I can try."

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...hmm.

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"If Elder Valendrian's vouching for you, you're probably alright," for shemlen, she doesn't say, "but please be careful not to make trouble."

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"Of course," she says, nodding.

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"I think they're going to want to start the ceremony soon," Valendrian says, "and they can hardly do that without you. You should probably at least start heading over there."

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"Yes, Elder." She leaves.

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Maybe they'll find someone elsewhere in the city.

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Who knows.

Certainly not Acara, standing with her cousin and their respective betrothed as a Reverend Mother from the human Chantry makes some kind of speech. Her eyes flick over the crowd, and then she remembers what Elder Valendrian said, and trains them on her fiance instead. He is pretty. That's not enough to make a marriage, by itself, but it's not nothing.

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The Reverend Mother gets to the part where she actually marries them. "In the name of the Maker, who brought us this world, and in whose name we say the Chant of Light, I—"

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A commotion by the gate. The arl's son is back, and he brought friends. Lots of friends.

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Oh, crap.

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"Sorry to interrupt, Mother, but I'm having a party and we're dreadfully short of female guests," he says, laughing. His friends - and his guards - spread out among the crowd, shoving people aside as necessary.

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How dare they how dare they how dare they--

Stay calm. Putting him in his place won't help anyone. It clearly didn't help when Shianni did it--she scans the crowd for her cousin, suddenly almost as afraid for her cousin as she is angry.

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Shianni is... over there, looks like. One of the nobles is standing next to her. That can't be good.

"Milord, this is a wedding!" the Reverend Mother says sharply.

"Ha! If you want to dress up your pets and have tea parties, that's your business, but don't pretend this is a proper wedding," says the arl's son. "Now. We're here for a good time, aren't we boys?"

Nasty laughter from his friends. One of them calls out, "Just a good time with the ladies, that's all!"

The arl's son scans the crowd thoughtfully. "Let's take those two, the one in the tight dress, and... where's the bitch that bottled me?"

"Over here, Lord Vaughan!" calls the one standing by Shianni.

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He. Is. Not. Touching. Shianni.

Calm down, calm down, kill him here and bad things happen. Distract him. "Bottled you, milord? Do you mean she served you wine? Surely you're not suggesting that a mere elven woman could harm a big strapping man like you."

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"Oh, look at the pretty bride," says the arl's son, which is probably not quite the result Acara wanted. "Thinks she's funny. We'll take her too."

Nelaros looks like he might be contemplating doing something unwise, but he doesn't say anything.

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"Milord, I beg you reconsider, for both our sakes."

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"Hmm, let me think about that..." He pauses, tapping his finger theatrically against his chin. "...No."

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"Get behind me," she mutters to Valora.

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A guard grabs Shianni, and one grabs two of the girls Lord Vaughan indicated while another approaches Valora, but Lord Vaughan must be smarter than he looks because he makes a gesture and two guards come for Acara alone.

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Two guards can die, then. Or--no, maybe it's not their fault--she'll take them down without killing them, if she can. One of them gets the knife of her foot to the throat at speed and goes down with a gurgle, did she succeed in leaving him alive, does she care. The other one is more ready but not ready enough, fuck you fuck you guards like the ones who killed Mama--

This one definitely dies. She really, really does not care. She dives for the one who has Shianni.

That one manages to clip her a blow to the head that leaves her spiraling into darkness.

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The next thing she hears is one of the other girls repeating, "Maker keep us, Maker protect us, Maker keep us, Maker protect us," in a high frightened whisper while rocking back and forth nearby.

She's on a stone floor in what looks like some kind of storage room, surrounded by the other girls who were taken for the lord's 'party'. No one looks hurt, yet.

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...Wow. She was sure they would kill her. They're seriously that hard-up for a fuck?  Or, no, probably want to humiliate her before she dies, gang-rape her and then kill her.

Whatever. Leaving her alive is a mistake they would come to regret, soon enough. "Is everyone okay?" she asks groggily, taking stock of the situation.

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"Oh, thank the Maker you've come to," Shianni says. "We were so worried."

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"I'm fine. What happened since I was knocked out?"

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"They took us to the arl's palace," Shianni says, "and locked us up in here to wait, until..."

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"Maker keep us, Maker protect us, Maker keep us, Maker protect us..."

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"Now this again," Shianni mutters, rolling her eyes.

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The terrified muttering girl continues her terrified muttering.

"Look," says one of the other girls, "we'll... do what they want... go home, and try to - forget this ever happened."

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"That's not going to happen," Acara says with an icy-rage serenity. "I already killed at least one of them, maybe two. I'm not going to get out of this in one piece, not if these bastards have anything to say about it. And the door is a chokepoint. I'll kill the first one that comes through, take his sword, and then the rest will be easier." She shrugs. "And if that fails, well, I died faster than I'm sure they were going to let happen, and you still have the option to cooperate if you want."

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...the girl who suggested cooperating shrinks away nervously.

"Maker keep us, Maker protect us," mutters the terrified one.

And then there's a noise at the door.

"Someone's coming!" says the last, quietest girl.

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Acara darts over to the door and grips the handle firmly, ready to smash it back in the face of whoever opens it.

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A helmeted guard opens it!

He is not expecting a door to the face. He stumbles back, cursing.

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And she grabs his sword from where it hangs and then he does not have a sufficiently intact throat to curse with.

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The other guards behind him yell an alarm and press the attack.

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She took down two guards barehanded back in the alienage, now she has a sword, and she controls the doorway. It does not remotely resemble a fair fight.

When it's over she looks down at her blood-drenched dress and makes a moue of annoyance. It was such a nice dress, too.

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The cooperative girl and the quiet girl are clinging to each other in fear in the back of the storage room. The terrified muttering one is cowering next to them, shaken out of her trance.

There are no more guards immediately in evidence; they must not have succeeded in summoning help.

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...Hm. To stay here and protect them, or to slaughter her way to Vaughan Kendells.

Her musings are interrupted by the arrival of her cousin.

"Soris! What are you doing here?"

"Nelaros lost it on the people who wanted to just--hope for the best. I couldn't let him come alone."

"Perfect. You stay here and guard Shianni and the others while I go gut the arl's son like the pig he is."

"...Nelaros is at the end of the hall, he's expecting us--"

"I'll explain it to him. Maybe form a barricade, too--oh, you've got a sword already, that's good."

"That Grey Warden, Duncan, loaned us his sword and crossbow, but that's all we have."

"Okay, then I'll need to bring Nelaros some weapons from the dead guards. Good to know."

"But--"

"Soris? Stay here and make sure Shianni and the others are alright. I'll take care of it."

"...Okay. Thanks, cousin."

"I love you. Be okay," she says, and heads out.

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There are a few off-duty guards drinking in the dining hall that she has to pass through to get to Nelaros. Two of them stand up when they see Acara come through the door in her blood-soaked wedding dress.

"Hey! Where'd you get weapons, elf?"

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"From the corpses of your compatriots. I just killed five of them by myself, without a sword, and now I have several, do you really want to join them?"

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"Not me, I'm off-duty," says the seated man, taking a bite of bread.

The other two don't seem to believe her. They attack.

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Fine. What's two more dead shemlen matter to her. They can die as messily as their friends. She wipes her blades on the less-bloody parts of their clothes, nods perfunctorily at the guard who didn't make her kill him, and leaves. Soris said Nelaros was at the end of the hall...

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The seated guard nods back. He doesn't seem to mind at all about his friends.

 

She reaches the room at the end of the hall just in time to watch another guard cut Nelaros nearly in half with a blow to the chest.

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No--

She crosses the hall in a heartbeat, decapitates the guard, and falls to her knees at the other elf's side. "Nelaros?"

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Nelaros's eyes focus briefly on her face. He blinks slowly.

Then he's gone.

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A drop of water falls onto his face. No, that's a tear.

Why is she crying? She didn't know him, he was a stranger to her--but he was her fiance, and he--he had died trying to save her and Shianni and the others, and that mattered.

But there would be time to cry later. For now she would quickly rifle through his pockets for any keepsakes she could give back to his family, since she likely wouldn't get a chance later, and then she could get up and keep moving.

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All he has on him is a ring. A wedding ring, to be specific. The one he never got a chance to wear.

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Yeah she's--going to hold onto that.

She slips it onto her own finger, for lack of pockets to put it in, picks up her blades and goes through the next door.

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Another corridor. This place is pretty mazelike.

There's a guard at the other end, but luckily for her, he doesn't have a bow on him, just a sword and shield.

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"Please get out of my way. I have had a very bad day and your employer and compatriots have made every effort to ensure that I have an even worse one, so I'm really not going to lose any sleep over it if I have to kill you, but if you don't insist on joining the 'rape and murder is okay as long as it's elves you're doing it to' party, I'd really rather not."

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"I can tell you which way is out and pretend I never saw you, but I can't let you through this door," he says.

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"And what happens next time Vaughan Kendells decides he wants some elf girls for a party."

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He hesitates, his eyes flicking away from her for a moment to glance at the door he's guarding.

"...that might be less of a problem than you think," he says.

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"And I'm supposed to trust that? I give people chances. I gave Vaughan Kendells three, back at the alienage. If you insist on fighting me I'll do my best to get you out of the way without killing you but I have had enough of the empty promises of shemlen. Do you want to know how my mother died?"

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"Not particularly," he says. "Look - a girl came in here a quarter hour ago, a lady I guess, introduced herself as the Teyrna of Highever and asked to talk to the young lord. She didn't look happy. Something's about to happen to him, or has already."

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"Maybe you're telling the truth," she says. "But I can't afford to take risks with my cousins' lives."

She's very fast. A pommel to the temple ought to do to knock him out with a minimum of risk to his life.

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He isn't fast enough to stop her; he goes down.

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She makes sure he's positioned so worst come to worst he won't suffocate on his own vomit and heads through the door.

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It's yet another corridor, with indistinct voices issuing from a room halfway down it.

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She stalks down the hallway and throws open the door.

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"—not making this very—ah," says the human from earlier, the one who was helping Warden Duncan. "Hello again."

"How dare—" starts Lord Vaughan, turning to see who was willing to interrupt him so rudely. When he sees Acara, he falls silent and just stares in shock.

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"Hello. Do you remember, back at the alienage, when I told you it wouldn't be worth it? Do you want to know how many of your guards are dead, now? Do you regret not listening to me then?"

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"Vaughan Kendells is not very good at recognizing the consequences of his choices," says possibly the Teyrna of Highever.

"Bitches, both of you—"

"Really? Really? That's what seems to you like the most productive response here?"

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"I mean, let's be fair, he'd have to say something really, really clever to walk out of this room alive. He might as well die as he lived: a total sack of shit."

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"I have been putting, frankly, much more effort than he deserves into trying to convince him to change his ways," says Elissa, "because I really don't like murdering people for doing things that are already illegal when they could be handled by legal means instead. I definitely don't have time to stay in Denerim and get him properly charged for the multiple laws he has already broken and the ones he intended to break later, but I do happen to already be on my way to see the king to report and seek justice for a much worse crime, and I would have no trouble at all bringing immense embarrassment to the Kendells family over this, which is the sort of threat that can and does keep idiots like Lord Vaughan in line. Unfortunately, Lord Vaughan is a particularly stubborn idiot."

"Bitch," he mutters.

"In case you haven't noticed, I just went from trying to prevent you from raping anyone today to trying to save your life," she says. "You could consider being grateful, or at least not actively impeding me."

"You wouldn't really let this knife-ear kill me, would you?"

"Do you see a weapon?" she asks, spreading her empty hands. Indeed, although armoured, she appears to have left her sword outside. "All I have are words."

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"You should really be less concerned with the points on my ears than the ones on my blades."

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"Lord Vaughan. Please. All you have to do is look me in the eye and promise not to do anything like this again, and then sit here quietly in your room for the rest of the night."

"Oh, do I? And what if the elf bitch murders me in my sleep, what then?"

"Leave that in my hands," says Elissa.

"What are you?"

"The Teyrna of Highever, I believe I've mentioned."

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"She is a shem who has entered the alienage without harassing anyone, a distinction you sadly lack."

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"By the way," she says to Acara, "how would you like to join the Grey Wardens?"

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"Will it get me out of hanging for killing a lot of guards and probably a lordling?"

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"Yes."

"What!" exclaims Lord Vaughan.

"Again," says the self-proclaimed teyrna, "all you have to do..."

"I - I -"

She sighs. "I'm trying here, I really am."

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"My cousin and fiance came to rescue me and the others. My fiance is dead. As far as I know my cousin hasn't killed anyone but if he has you tell no one, understood? I was the only one who did anything illegal. As long as everyone else is safe, I'll join the Grey Wardens."

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"That can definitely be arranged. I'm sorry about your fiance; what was his name?"

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"Nelaros. He was from the Highever alienage, if you could--send word--"

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"—I knew him," she says, surprised. "He was a carpenter. Made my - my mother a new set of cabinets for her birthday last year." There's a slight catch in her voice when she mentions her mother. "He did good work. I'll write to his family before we leave town."

Lord Vaughan sidles toward the far corner of the room. Elissa looks at him. He stops.

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"I barely knew him. Elves do arranged marriages, it's--one of the only times we move alienages. I only met him today. All I knew about him was his name. But he thought I was pretty and he died for me, and--he seemed nice. I think we could have been happy together." She flicks her blade warningly when Vaughan moves. "Does it bother you, hearing us 'knife-ears' talked about as people? Or do you not care at all."

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"I'll - I have money," he says desperately.

"You tried bribing me already." She glances at Acara. "And Warden Duncan's new recruit doesn't look very bribeable from here."

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"I'm open to the idea of not killing you, but I really doubt there's an amount of money you were planning on offering me that's more appealing than gutting you."

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"Fifty sovereigns?"

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"You tried to rape Shianni. That's. Not. Even. Close."

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Lord Vaughan opens his mouth.

"Whatever you're about to say will almost certainly get you killed," says Elissa. "Please just think."

He shuts his mouth.

After a moment: "A - a hundred sovereigns?"

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"You don't get it. I don't want your money. I want my family, my people, safe from you. I will be happier if I can get that by killing you, but I am open to other options. If they're very, very convincing. I think I'm going to get what I want, but her ladyship over there is the first shem I have ever actually liked--congratulations, by the way, I had begun to wonder if your entire species was irretrievably terrible--so I'm listening."

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"Thank you, I try," says her ladyship.

Lord Vaughan looks between the two of them a few times. Then he turns to Elissa and says hesitantly, "...I - won't do anything like that again."

"How sure are you of that?"

He mutters something unintelligible.

She raises her eyebrows. "Didn't catch that, sorry."

"I said - it's not worth all this," he repeats. "From now until my dying day, anytime I look at a girl I'm going to half expect one of the two of you to pop out of the ground and ruin my family's name or take my head off. Are you satisfied with that?"

"Yes, I believe I am," says Elissa. "Thank you."

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Acara looks at him. She looks at Elissa. She looks at the blood on her dress and the wedding ring on her finger.

She sighs and sheathes her blades.

"I'm going to be back. And if I ever find you've lied about this, I'm going to make you wish I had killed you here and now."

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"He's not lying," says Elissa, standing up.

Lord Vaughan glares at both of them, but doesn't say anything more.

"Goodbye, Lord Vaughan. Pleasant dreams."

"Ugh."

She ignores him and turns to Acara as they leave. "My name's Elissa, by the way, I don't think I mentioned when we met earlier."

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"You know mine's Acara--Elder Valendrian mentioned it. We need to stop by the room the guards dumped me and the other girls in, Soris should still be there with them."

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"All right. If we run into any excitable guards, please allow me to do the talking."

She stops in a side room on their way back to pick up her sword and daggers, which it seems she was not allowed to wear to her meeting with Lord Vaughan.

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"Yeah--oh, I managed to knock one out instead of killing him, he wouldn't let me in but he offered to let me escape. We should make sure he's alright."

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"Good idea."

He is right where she left him, unconscious but alive.

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Good. Acara still isn't sorry about the ones she did have to kill, but--that's enough.

Back the way she came. There are corpses.

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The man in the dining hall is still finishing his meal. He looks up when they come through.

"Back so soon?" he says mildly.

Elissa blinks.

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"Sadly, Vaughan Kendalls made it feasible not to kill him," Acara explains.

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He snorts.

"What's your name?" asks Elissa.

"What's yours?"

"Elissa Cousland."

"Strongarmed the young lord, did you?"

"Maybe a little."

"Well, I'm Delmar, your ladyship."

"I'll remember that. I prefer to hire guards who have something resembling principles."

"How do you know I'm not just very lazy?"

"I have a knack for this sort of thing."

He tips an imaginary hat to her, and then they're across the room and out the door on the other side.

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Acara knocks on the door. "Soris! It's me!"

The door opens cautiously. "Who's the shem?" Soris asked.

"This is Elissa. She made it possible to not kill Vaughan Kendells, but I promise she has redeeming traits."

"...Right, she was with the Grey Warden."

"Yeah, about that. I'm joining. So as to avoid hanging for killing all those guards."

He looks unhappy, but he can't argue that that's the fate that would have awaited her had she stayed.

"Can we come in?"

"Yeah, 'course," he says, and opens the door wider.

Shianni runs forward to hug her cousin. There are a lot of hugs. They're going to have to last a good long while.

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Yeah. Elissa is glad Acara still has all the family she started the day with. Even though they might not get to see each other again.

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"I'm going to miss you so much," Shianni says.

"Me too. I promise to think of you all the time while I'm saving the world."

Shianni snorts. "I'm sure you'll do great at it."

"Yeah. Meantime we should--get everyone else home, and let everyone know I'll be gone and why."

"Poor Nelaros, getting left behind. Do you think he'll go back to Highever?"

"Nelaros is dead."

 

"Oh."

"Elissa's from Highever, she'd met him, she promised to send his family a letter."

"That's better than nothing, I guess."

"Yeah."

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"He was a good man," says Elissa. "Good carpenter, too."

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Shianni and Soris look at her kind of awkwardly.

 The walk back to the alienage garners them a lot of stares, between all the weapons and the bloodstained wedding dress.

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Elissa finds Duncan when they get there.

"Everything's taken care of. And you have a new recruit," she says.

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"Thank you for loaning Soris and Nelaros your weapons. Nelaros is dead," Acara says. 

"I'm sorry to hear about that," Duncan says. "I presume you're the recruit?" 

"As you can probably guess from the state of my clothes it was that or the noose. I don't love the idea of leaving home but it's better than dying for killing those guards."

"But not the Arl's son?"

"No, he's still alive."

"I commend your restraint."

"Commend Elissa, not me. I'd have been happier to see him dead like his men."

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"I managed to talk some sense into him. Eventually. Acara helped."

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"Mostly by sincerely threatening to stab him a lot."

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"It was very helpful!"

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"I'm glad you two seem to be getting along, at least. It will make the road to Ostagar easier," Duncan says. 

"I actually like her, it's very confusing," Acara says. "I keep looking at her and being startled that her ears are round."

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Elissa laughs. "I'll take that as a compliment."

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"It was meant as one. Do you know if there are guards going to show up any minute or if I have--more time to pack and say my goodbyes?"

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"I suspect Lord Vaughan isn't going to be eager to send the guard after you. You should have at least a little while. And if they show up sooner than expected, Duncan and I can explain matters to them."

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"Thank you." 

She goes home, first. Talks to her father. Cries on his shoulder, for--the last time in a long time. Extracts a promise from him to look out for everyone for her while she's gone. Washes her wedding dress, as best she can, but the stain won't come out entirely. Packs up, dresses in something more practical. 

And then she leaves to say more goodbyes. There is a little more crying, with Shianni and Soris. She accepts well-wishes from neighbors. 

She looks for Tev. 

No one has seen Tev since this morning.

"We have a problem," she tells Elissa.

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"What is it?"

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"I have this friend--Tev, Sentevlan Rasna--I promised him this morning that I'd tell him before I left if Nelaros turned out to be terrible and I had to run away to join the Dalish. That's not why I'm leaving, but I should still say goodbye, and no one recalls seeing him since before the Arl's son's goons showed up."

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"...That's... a little troubling. I'm guessing he's not the type to disappear into a corner and miss all the excitement?"

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"He doesn't like parties but--he has a recurring issue with picking fights with bullies twice his size, I was honestly expecting when I started asking around for where he was that the answer would be something in the vicinity of 'tied to that chair over there to prevent him getting himself killed joining the rescue mission'."

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"This is starting to look like something has happened to your friend. I am concerned," says Elissa. "You'd probably know where to start looking for him better than I would, though; I think the best place for me is still at the gate waiting for the city guard to show up so I can be noble at them."

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"You're probably right," she sighs.

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"I often am. Good luck. And I'm sorry in advance if the result of negotiations with the guard is that we have to leave the city before you find him."

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There's a mild commotion from the direction of that alley over there.

Someone can be heard saying in amazement, "Tev, is that you?"

 

It does not, at a glance, appear to be Tev. For one thing, he's taller than most humans - that's got to be at least six feet. And brawnier than any elf who ever lived - he's built more like a dwarf than anything. A six-foot-tall dwarf. Shirtless and barefoot and carrying a round blue shield emblazoned with a silver star.

His ears are definitely elven, though, and adjusting for size and muscle that looks an awful lot like Tev's face. The blond hair and brilliant blue eyes also match.

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"Tev?" she asks incredulously. "What happened to you?"

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"Uh... blood magic. I think. I don't know, there were people in robes with strange accents and everything hurt and then I woke up looking like this. I am very confused and very very hungry."

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"Oh, Maker, Tev...

 

Do you want to join the Grey Wardens?"

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"Will the Grey Wardens feed me?"

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"I presume so. Duncan?"

"Yes, of course."

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"Then sure. Why not."

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"I'm joining too. The arl's son interrupted the wedding to kidnap me, the other bride, Shianni, and two other women, with the intent to rape us, and joining the Grey Wardens is a good way to not hang for the number of guards I had to kill to make that not happen."

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"Oh - Maker, I'm sorry - are you all okay?"

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"They're kind of shaken, but--no one succeeded in--they'll be okay. I got knocked unconscious for a bit, that's the worst of it."

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"Oh good." He finally looks at Elissa and Duncan. "I guess you're a Warden?" he says to Duncan.

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"Indeed," says Duncan.

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"How about you?" he says to Elissa.

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"I'm Elissa. Travelling with Warden Duncan. Helping out here and there along the way."

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"Great. Nice to meet you."

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"She's a shem and I like her, it's so weird. And. It'll be nice to not be leaving everyone behind."

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"...Yeah."

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"Worth it. And I can always come back later, at least to visit, if I survive. So. ...Do you need time to pack or anything, you were the last person I thought I needed to say goodbye to."

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"Somehow I don't think my clothes fit me anymore, and the blood mages stole my shoes," he says. "I'll go shove my drawing stuff in a bag and then we can go."

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She nods.

"In addition to feeding you, the Grey Wardens will also clothe and arm you," Duncan adds.

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"Even better!"

He walks away and comes back a minute later with a bag slung over his shoulder, the blue shield still on his arm.

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When they actually walk through the gates of the alienage, Acara turns around to take one last look back. And then she turns back and walks unhesitatingly away.

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They don't leave the city itself immediately, of course. They need to get Tev his food and clothing and the both of them a decent set of armor and so on.

Clothing first. Duncan doesn't take long to find a decent-quality tailor.

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Having someone buy him clothes, new clothes, that actually fit him, is a deeply weird experience. But it's also undeniably pretty nice.

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Well, when it is over, he will have a sensible number and quality of clothes.

And then food. Eating at the kind of restaurant you can get a seat at when one is the Warden-Commander of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden and/or a Teyrna is probably also deeply weird.

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It is so weird. But also utterly amazing.

The new Tev can put away a lot of food. He was right to be worried that if he stayed in the alienage he wouldn't get enough to eat.

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Acara is also impressed with the quality of the food, although she does a better job of hiding it and also eats only a normal-elf reasonable amount.

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And then to an armory. The elves are certainly welcome to keep their looted weapons, but they'll both probably want armor and Acara can probably get something a little better than the iron longswords the guards had and Tev might want some kind of not-a-shield weapon.

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Tev has no idea what kind of weapon would suit his new stature. A sword maybe? Like a big sword? He won't know how to use it, but then, he also won't know how to use anything else he could possibly pick, so.

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Tev can have a greatsword, sure. They're going to have to alter the hilt if he wants to wield it one-handed but they can do that.

Acara will take a nice longsword and dagger in something a little nicer than just plain iron. And a set of studded leather armor, nice and easy to move around in.

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Tev picks some reasonable-looking armour and a greatsword whose hilt seems manageable for occasional one-handed use; he doesn't want to have it altered because he expects to be using two hands at least some of the time.

He's not nearly as excited about sword shopping as Acara, but it is a little bit fun.

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Cyrion Tabris was well-off, for an elf; Acara never went hungry and her clothes almost always fit. But weapons, elves are not supposed to have.

And once everyone's reasonably armed and armored, they can pick up the shem recruits that Duncan acquired before them and start heading south.

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Daveth is staying with them, but Ser Jory has another duty to attend to. Elissa takes him aside and explains that she convinced Duncan to let him go because she needs him in Highever; after Arl Howe's takeover, she wants to know there are still loyal knights in her teyrnir. He should keep his head down and not make trouble, but remember who Highever really belongs to and discreetly inform people he trusts of the truth of her parents' murder at the hands of Howe's men. Also, she'd consider it a valuable personal favour if he'd make sure this letter gets to the Highever alienage; an elf she knew there died here today, defending innocent people from harm, and she wants his family to hear it from her.

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Ser Jory is appropriately horrified by all of this and swears to accomplish the things she has asked of him.

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"You're a good man. Best of luck to you."

And now the rest of them can head south.

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Acara would like it if Elissa would tell her about the man she would have married while they travel.

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"I didn't know him that well, but he was very sweet and very proud of his work," she says. "Thoughtful, responsible, organized. He didn't have any siblings; his mother was a maid in the castle and his father worked at a stable in the city. He learned woodworking from his uncle. He was the sort of person who'd stop to free a dog with its head stuck in a fence."

Her mabari woofs approvingly.

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"It's not nothing. Thank you," she says.

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She nods. "I wish I could do more."

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"Don't we all," she sighs.

They pass into the Brecilian Forest.

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It's a forest. There are trees. It's pretty.

 

There shouldn't be darkspawn this far north, and yet.

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Intellectually she knew darkspawn were horrible. Seeing them is...something else.

Well. Darkspawn die with a little more difficulty than would-be rapists, but not that much more.

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One of these darkspawn appears to have been dragging an unconscious elf around, probably for nefarious purposes. She's dressed Dalish and doesn't look well. Also, does anyone remember stabbing said darkspawn with his own dagger? Because that happened.

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Well, that is not a thing that Acara remembers doing, and it doesn't really seem like any of the others' style.

She looks at the seemingly unconscious elf.

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That elf sure isn't moving at all. Barely even breathing.

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Acara checks her vitals.

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She is in fact breathing, and her heart is beating, though weakly.

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"Is she alive?"

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"Yes. I don't know if I can say much more for her, though--her heartbeat is weak, she's been dragged who knows how far by darkspawn--I think she's conscious, though," she adds, gesturing to the bedaggered darkspawn throat.

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"Huh. That's something." She looks around for Warden Duncan.

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Duncan is finishing off the last of the darkspawn over there. He looks around, though, when he's done, and comes over when he sees them bending over a seemingly unconscious elf.

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"We think she might have killed this darkspawn," says Elissa. "Which, if she managed it in that condition, probably makes her recruit material."

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"More importantly," Duncan says, frowning, "she's Tainted, and recruiting her is probably the only way of saving her life."

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"...All right, what do we do?"

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He glances at the darkspawn throat and says, "I'm sorry to ask this of you, but if we're to have any chance of saving your life, I need to know where your clan is. I'm a Grey Warden, and you're tainted; without help, you will die, and I'm going to need your Keeper's assistance to save you."

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"n'rth'st," says the apparently not-quite-unconscious elf. "upstr'm."

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He picks her up carefully to carry her. "There's a flower I need for this that I don't have," he tells his recruits and Elissa. "It has red and white petals; red in the center and white on the outside. I need them cut, not uprooted, and one is the minimum but three would be best."

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"All right, time to go flower-hunting."

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"Yeah," Acara agrees.

Duncan hoists the Dalish elf and starts walking.

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Elissa looks for flowers. Seb helps. They find a few growing not far off the path.

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Acara finds one a little upstream.

They don't have an indication of how much farther they have left to go until a Dalish elf appears out of the woods, armed and armored.

"Is that Shiral?" she asks. "What happened?"

"She was attacked by darkspawn," Duncan says. "Before that, we don't know. But she has the Taint. I can save her, but I need your Keeper's help.

The guard's eyes flick nervously across the group for a few moments before conceding. "This way," she says. She leads them into a Dalish encampment. The keeper is a grey-haired woman with extensive facial tattooing.

Duncan explains what needs to happen to the Keeper.

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Tev asks, "Is there anything else we can do to help?"

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They can help the Keeper brew the thing. Her apprentice will help her with the magic parts, but extra hands to hold things and stir things will be very helpful.

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So they do that.

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The brew is finished within an hour, and then magic things happen, and then that is all they can do for her.

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At some point during all this fuss she must have gone from mostly unconscious to actually unconscious. She stays that way for a while.

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Well. There's nothing to be done about it until and unless she wakes up.

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Oh look she's awake.

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"There you are," Duncan says. "What do you remember?"

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"Caves... My friend Tamlen. There were ruins in the caves, and a tainted bear. Darkspawn chasing us. There was a mirror. Tamlen couldn't look away from it. I tried to carry him out of the room, but I collapsed."

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"...Your friend. I'm sorry," Duncan says. "If I had known about him I would have tried to find him. It's--too late, now."

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"I tried to tell you but I blacked out first."

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"I'm sorry."

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She nods.

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"How did they get you?"

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"I was unconscious at the time, but they must have found us in the caves and hauled us away. I woke up when you started killing them."

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He nods. He frowns. "What can you tell me about the mirror you mentioned before?"

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"It was very tall, with an ornate frame, in the middle of a round room in the deepest part of the ruins. The ruins were decorated in a mix of human and elven styles. Tamlen knows a few words of written elvish; he was trying to read the inscriptions on the frame when the mirror caught him, and then he couldn't move."

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"Can you show me where it is, once you can move? I believe I know what it is, and if I am correct, it is a terrible and tainted thing."

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"I could show you now, if you carried me there."

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"I can do that," he says.

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So she gives directions while he carries her to the cave. There is the mirror, right where she said it would be.

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On the way there, he says, "What was just done for you will stave off the taint for a time, but it isn't permanent."

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"Meaning I'm still going to die?"

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"You could," he says, "or you could join the Grey Wardens."

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"Joining the Wardens seems preferable."

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"I'm glad to hear it." They reach the mirror, with a few pauses to murder obscenely large spiders. He looks at it. He sets her down gently. "It is as I feared."

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"Tainted somehow?"

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"Yes," he says, and walks up to the mirror. His face sets when he sees what's on the other side.

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"Can it be destroyed? Should it?"

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"Yes, and yes," he says, draws his sword, and smashes the mirror.

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"Good," says the new recruit.

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He re-sheaths his sword and walks back to her. "Have you recovered enough that I shouldn't carry you back to the camp?"

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"Unfortunately no."

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He picks her up carefully and carries her back to camp.

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"Thank you. Now I would like to eat something, and then I would like to sleep, and then I suppose you will want me to go with you somewhere to join the Grey Wardens."

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"A reasonable order of actions," he agrees. "We're headed south, to Ostagar, where an army is gathered to oppose the darkspawn horde."

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"Hopefully I will be of some use by the time the darkspawn arrive."

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Nod. Dispatch a few more giant spiders. Arrive back at camp.

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Food. Sleep. A normal amount of sleep, even.

And then she wakes up, and stands, moving easily.

"Well, that was exhausting and unpleasant."

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"I'll bet," says Tev. "Breakfast?"

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"What an excellent idea. You may have heard that I'm Shiral; what's your name?"

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"Tev. Nice to meet you."

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"And I'm Elissa and this is Seb."

Seb barks and wags his teeny tiny tail.

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"Acara," the elf introduces herself.

"Daveth," the thief finishes.

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"What a fascinating assortment."

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"They're going to be surprised in Ostagar when Duncan comes back with four recruits, three of them Elves, and of those one Dalish and one enormous."

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"Amusing."

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"Maybe I should wear my dress, just to confuse them further. Elissa, is that a terrible idea?"

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"It would certainly make an impression."

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"Perhaps I shouldn't, if you actually promised the lordling not to drag his name through the mud. People might ask why I had a bloodstained wedding dress, and then I would have to answer."

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"Yeah. Save the dress for some other occasion."

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"The shemlen will just have to be satisfied with current levels of confusing. Unless something else unexpected happens on the way to Ostagar, we can't discount that entirely."

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"At this point I'll be almost more surprised if it doesn't."

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"That would be a pleasant surprise, at least. I don't think any of the surprises thus far have been pleasant."

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"Yeah."

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"I'm sorry about your friend."

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"Thank you," says Shiral.

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Meanwhile, in a completely different part of Ferelden:

Someone is having their Harrowing today. There's an air of tension, all over the tower. Some of it is excitement, in those too young to understand that a Harrowing is anything other than the transition from apprentice to full-fledged mage. Some of it is worry, in those who know better.

By all rights, Carlos Amell should be in the latter party. But he knows Surana, helped tutor her. Has faith in her.

Having faith is important, whatever you find it in.

Right now he also has to have faith that there will be negative consequences if he takes too long to respond to First Enchanter Irving's summonses.

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"Ah, Carlos, come in," says the First Enchanter, opening his office door and standing back. "Warden Ambrose, this is the junior mage I mentioned. Carlos, this is Ambrose, a Grey Warden. He's here looking for recruits, and I'd like you to show him around. Find him a room to stay the night, introduce him to anyone you think might do well in the Wardens."

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"Yes, First Enchanter. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ambrose."

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"Likewise," says Ambrose, standing up.

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"Guest rooms are this way," he says. "I can think of a few possible candidates, but no one with a very high degree of confidence..."

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"I'll appreciate any help you can give me. There's a Blight coming, and the Grey Wardens of Ferelden need more people than we have."

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"I understand. Unfortunately, you haven't come at the best time; there's a Harrowing going on, and everyone is a little--on edge."

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"I understand. I can wait a day or two before talking to anyone, if you think that will help."

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"It might. --On the other hand, it might be a better bet to talk to some of the apprentices at high risk of Tranquility sooner than later. I don't know that they'll find the Grey Wardens a better bet, but."

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"Yes, I agree," he says. "I'll talk to anyone you recommend, but - particularly those."

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Nod. 

"I'll talk to the apprentices."

And then they reach the guest rooms.

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"Thank you."

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"You're welcome."

He goes to talk to the apprentices. Most of them don't think being a Grey Warden is a better bet than going through with the Harrowing, but--not literally none.

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As promised, Ambrose will talk to anyone Carlos sends him. He explains straightforwardly that about one in six Grey Wardens die during the Joining, that it's likelier to happen if you have a weak constitution or are sick or recovering from sickness, and that even after all that, being a Grey Warden is difficult and dangerous; but Grey Wardens are absolutely necessary to protect the world against darkspawn, and there's a Blight rising in the south right now.

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Most of them back out after enough warnings.

One of them would rather die on his own terms than the templars'.

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"Welcome to the Wardens, then," says Ambrose.

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He nods and leaves to pack his things.

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Carlos comes by a little while later to report that that's everyone he thinks might be interested save for one; unfortunately he has as of yet been unable to find that one.

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"I can wait."

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"I hope he's alright. The others say he was acting strangely, earlier. He always gets a bit--malcontented--when there's a Harrowing."

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"Let me know if there's anything I can do."

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"I will, thank you."

The really frightening part is that he's not at all sure that Corbin's wrong that they're delaying Harrowing him in the hopes of finding an excuse to make him Tranquil. Corbin doesn't have the attitude the templars like to see in mages. Carlos doesn't, either, but he can competently fake it, and Corbin--can't.

He keeps looking.

When he finds him, it's far too late. He doesn't know what charges the templars were planning to use to Tranquilize Corbin, or why Corbin thought it was a good idea to try to destroy his phylactery in order to get away, or why he didn't ask Carlos for help--okay, no, he knows that one, Corbin knows Carlos would have just tried to talk him out of it. Unfortunately he doesn't know about the Grey Warden providing a convenient out.

Carlos doesn't think of it either, in the moment. All he knows is that he can't let the Templars take Corbin and Lily, not when Corbin's the closest thing he's had to a family since his father died.

So he doesn't.

He'll have time to regret his hasty action later.

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An apprentice who witnessed the whole thing has the bright idea of running off to fetch the Grey Warden.

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"What is it?"

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"The Templars were going to Tranquilize Corbin and send Lily to Aeonar and Carlos walked in and saw the Templars threatening them and let them escape and now I think they're going to Tranquilize him!"

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...

"Take me there, please."

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"Okay," she says, still looking somewhat panicked, and leads him back to the chamber.

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And what does it look like when they get there?

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Well, there are a lot of templars. And both the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter are yelling at Carlos for letting a blood mage get away.

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He can take a moment to listen, then.

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They are really really mad at him! They totally believed Corbin was a blood mage and are now yelling at him for letting a blood mage get away, and assaulting kind of a lot of Templars in order to do this! They are Really Not Happy that he was able to do that, and, separately, that he was inclined.

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"Carlos," he says, interrupting Knight-Commander Greagoir, "how would you like to join the Grey Wardens?"

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Greagoir squawks some more. Carlos ignores him.

"It seems like it might be my best option, at this point."

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"Then you can do that," says Ambrose.

"Are you invoking the Right of Conscription, Warden?" asks Irving.

"It seems I must."

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"I'll pack my things." and say my goodbyes, he doesn't say. Greagoir might not be happy about him interacting with the apprentices, now, if his attention is brought to it.

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Ambrose nods. "I'll meet you in my guest room, if that's agreeable."

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"Alright."

He packs his things. He says his goodbyes. The little ones are tearful about him leaving. He apologizes, hugging them one least time and extracting promises to be brave and good. The older apprentices--aren't happy he's going. But--Corbin got out. That's important.

He shows up at Ambrose's guest quarters.

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Ambrose has already collected the other recruit.

"We can leave now," he says. "Unless there's anyone else you think I should speak to while I still have the chance."

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"No. The one I was having trouble finding was Corbin."

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"Ah."

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"I should have come and gotten you when I saw what was happening. I saw all those Templars and--acted without thinking."

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"Understandable, if regrettable," says Ambrose. "I'm sorry."

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"Thank you."

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Ambrose leaves the tower with his recruits.

He is not a very talkative traveler.

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Carlos isn't feeling very talkative either.

Whether the other recruit, Jago, is quiet by nature or intimidated, he too says little.

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Then it will be a quiet trip back to Ostagar.

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That it will.

At least it's not a terribly long one, in the scheme of things.