The Dragon Age world, plot, and their characters aren't mine but belong to Bioware. I get no money for writing this sequel.
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-- The Free Marches - Planasene Forest Anders: I wasn't sure we could be safe in settled areas anymore, While we could kill so many in a major combat, I never wanted to kill innocents just because they might hate me. Too many hated and feared mages for me to do that.
As we moved west through the forest, we stopped often to gather useful herbs. I knew the plants for the common potions, like elfroot and spindleweed, but we'd found other herbs too. Elfroot we collected plenty of, but we didn't have much of others we needed. The Deep Roads had plenty of deep mushrooms to make potions for Hawke, but finding enough was a problem now. With all we'd collected, my pack was a little bulkier than when we left Kirkwall. When we saw another village along the coast, Hawke asked what we thought, if we, or less kindly, if Justice and I were able to stay calm. I still worried when we settled to sleep, even if he was quiet since then. We started to study the Threnodies most nights so she'd have them memorized in due time. I'd enjoyed having her close and sitting on my lap without the tension that marked our relations the last few nights. My staff was propped so we could both read the tome. The language inside was still beautiful, even if there was more to the Chantry than just the Chant. Actually, having to help her study was helping me a little, as I thought my spirit wasn't getting angry quite as easily or quickly when we reached a verse that was often used against us. But he could see that many were taken out of context as well. So when I looked at the fishing village, complete with drying racks lining up the one slope, I felt nervous and stepped closer to Hawke to say, “We may be ready for that, I know I could use more items for potions and salves.”
“Merrill, are you ready?” Hawke asked carefully.
“Yes, of course I am. I doubt I would find much more here unless I took root,” the elf admitted.
Hawke and I had chosen new names that we practiced using, though we wanted to avoid over-using them. She'd be Brana, I'd picked Hesyal, and Merrill enjoyed catching us if we used the wrong names. Merrill's name was usually forgotten by humans, so we decided she didn't have to change her name. We walked toward the village, with Hawke and Merrill walking side by side as if they were close. I trudged behind with my spear, trying to act less delicate. The problem was that armies had spear-men, and I'd never seen any. The large scale fighting I remembered was of ogres and emissaries, not a company of spear warriors, so I didn't know how a warrior should fight.
Maker, I hoped we could stay out of trouble here.
I felt some wordless support from Justice, like a clap of my back from someone who didn't quite realize how strong he was. I stumbled a little from the feeling but continued on, because I was happy he wasn't angry.
As we arrived at the edge of the village, I realized it was a little bigger than I'd thought, as some of the dwellings were carved out of the one rocky bluff. There was a dozen or more people walking outside along the curving path that was possibly the only lane in the village.
Hawke straightened her posture for an instant, and then slumped in a casual pose, shifting her bow a bit as we passed the first house. I stumbled a little and 'clung' to my spear for balance. Some of our bloodstained rags were tied around my calf. Merrill was our public herbalist now, though she wore a couple of Hawke's daggers openly. Not seeming to be mages seemed wisest now, even if not healing might be impossible for me.
One of the buildings backed up against the bluff was the tavern and another was either a merchant or a pawn shop. Either might do right now for me, but Hawke led us to the merchant's shop, while I looked briefly towards the nameless tavern.
Inside, once my eyes adjusted to the dimmer light again, Hawke strode over to a dwarven woman working on a ledger. Merrill wandered off, tutting to herself with curiosity.
This shop was dim and that odd mix of large scale space, low counters and furniture, and high ceilings that underground places like the Deep Roads had. It almost seemed like what the dwarven wardens called a Dust town.
The merchant looked up with the kind of squint I'd worn for so many months, saying, “Strangers? Did a ship get into port when I wasn't looking or is this another pirate raid?”
Hawke came to a stop, and both she and Paws tilted their heads at the same instant. I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing.
“No, we came over the mountains looking for work. Where are we?” Dera asked, moving over to the nearest case, partly distracted by the blades in it.
The dwarf let her, grinning at Hawke's greed. I moved past that case, and noticed it had some very nice weapons in uncommon metals. Of course, people must have sold their share of the pirate or smuggling booty here, and they'd get a pittance. Hawke examined a great sword with visible runes, swinging it in short arcs as the dwarf almost rubbed her hands in glee.
As much as watching Hawke pretend to want to buy something would be fun, I moved around the shop, looking for herbs, food, and anything else that might be useful. A male dwarf came out into the room looked askance at us. What I didn't like was the scat I saw all around the room. I really didn't want any food that vermin had picked over. I was used to rats in Darktown, but there was no attempt here at keeping them away and obviously there were no cats here either.
More cats survived a Blight than cats along the whole Free Marches...
Jars of salves sat in a wall case but before I reached them, I bumped into a sturdy table was a large assortment of jewelry in a screened case. I had to smile and pick out things for Hawke, at least in my imagination, draping her with gold and jewels. Then I spotted something better for a fugitive, earrings. Checking on Hawke, she was busy, and I gestured at the other merchant so I could look closer. What I liked the best were simple gold hoops etched with swirls like errant breezes. Or updrafts from Flemeth's abyss.
I almost called Hawke over to look but she'd get them for me, like that Tevinter amulet she found one time. I never wore it because they were nearly as wrong as the Chantry in Orlais, but it was a gift from her when everything was still so tentative and new. Something to hold on to because she gave it to me, more than for what it was. I'd wanted to get her something then but the Qun and then my plotting swallowed up too much... I plain forgot for too many years now.
Asking the surly dwarf for the price, it was more than I liked with our needing passage. I dug into my belt pouch and started bargaining using the Chantry amulet, praying he wouldn't recognize the sometimes subtle difference in the symbols. He either didn't or didn't care. With the amulet and a few more silver, they were mine. Hiding them away, I saw that Hawke was looking at some arrows now. She'd need them later. She wasn't skilled enough to make her own.
When I moved over to the salves, I learned that they were horribly pricey, enough that I was sure there wasn't an open herbalist in this village. I looked at other things, but many were blankets and homey things we couldn't use.
Merrill came out of a dark side room, with a tiny smudge of dust on her face and asked the dwarf, “Do you have an aravel? Some place to hang your great floppy hat as you travel. I do not know why you would like to carry all you own on your back as you travel, like some snail. And not even a
pretty snail...”
I could only blink and then smirk as the dwarf was treated to her earnestness.
After a moment, the dwarf merchant finally shut his mouth and managed, “Uh, what was that you wanted to buy?”
“An aravel, a... land-ship? I suppose an aravel alone would not be enough to start a new Dalish clan. We would also need halla, though I suppose a horse or even a very large number of dogs might do as well,” Merrill explained, looking vague.
I enjoyed watching someone else fighting off the bemusement that talking with her usually brought. When he turned away scratching his beard, she looked older for an instant.
“We don't have any of those land-ships here,” he finally admitted, picking at his beard and dropping it on floor. “Nor horses or more than a few curs.”
Wash beard, shave beard, none of that for me, I thought as I tried to keep my face unchanged from my disgust.
Looking worried, he added, “But we do have blankets and tents. Nug Falls can build you a skiff or maybe one of these landboats, We don't have no shipwrights living here in Ollcliffe.”
Merrill looked sad at that, but suggested, “I suppose something else will have to do.”
Leading her back he was telling her about how water and storm safe the blankets were. She had a good idea there, so I joined Hawke and the female dwarf, where she was buying another score or arrows, of uneven make.
“Brana, do they have any of that elfroot or bandages?” I asked, trying to sound like a worried mercenary. “We can't afford to get wound rot.”
We had plenty, but I was hoping they'd have deep mushrooms in their caves. Hawke paid for the arrows, and we did get some herbs for simples. I stayed quiet and hoped Hawke would remember what we needed the most. We bought some herbs, but more of the mushrooms than anything else.
Merrill had a tent, but looked a little vexed. I was too, but we were traveling further, and Ferelden was much colder than any of us were used to anymore. Privacy would have to wait. Once we packed our new items away, we left the dark shop.
When outside, Hawke admitted in a quiet voice, “There's a sister here who does the wound care and occasional salve brewing. She's apparently married and senior in a small Chantry here. That might be the better place to get healing than the merchant. She's thought odd because she has a dog too.”
I checked with Justice, but he didn't seem perturbed. I wasn't sure if it was because he was really sated, or he didn't consider those in a village this small to be a threat.
Still we needed more healing or restorative potions, so I nodded to Dera. She led us further along the path, and to what seemed like a warehouse built into the bluff suddenly was revealed as a weather-worn Chantry facade. Dera took my hand and squeezed it. I returned it, let go and moved to the other side of Merrill.
Entering the Chantry, it felt so familiar here, quiet, like when I'd been in the one in Amaranthine before the darkspawn attack. That was the last time I'd seen Wynne, even if I didn't want to try to explain it to her now that I'd forgotten some of the skills I'd learned from her.
Hawke spoke to a young man in simple robes, and he directed us further in past several doors off to the side. He looked harmless, I made sure to remind the spirit. I'd only seen one other sister, and heard the almost comforting sound of a history lecture coming from one of the doors we passed. Comforting until the childish voices I was hearing sank in, and then I felt almost ill. Hawke and Merrill were just looking around.
Further in was the worship area, with a platform below a statue of Andraste-in-flames. She looked a lot more joyful than I really thought was possible while burning alive.
Just before the space opened up into the larger area was another doorway, and Hawke knocked on the sill before entering. Inside I saw the haunches of a dog and the back of this sister's head as she had a ledger on the table. For a wild second I thought it was the Warden, but no, this was an older woman.
And a much less muscled dog.
Hawke did most of the talking, keeping attention on her, a balance between being friendly, eager to find work for our tiny group of mercenaries, and worried about how much healing we could get here. All partly true and very incomplete.
I only half listened while they spoke, occasionally picking at one of the bandages I wore. Hawke was bargaining for several kinds of potions, fingering her spending pouch as she did. More, I was listening for Justice's temper, but he was quiet, if growing irritated.
Half-hearing something, I was alarmed when I heard the muffled clank of heavy armor behind me. Turning, I felt the wave of a Templar dispel, muffling my contact with Justice and making my knees wobble a little.
I saw a Templar in an unfamiliar style of armor, not like what I'd known near any Circle I knew. He was old, older than Irving the last time I'd seen him. Hawke turned in a flash, her hand going for her bow, while Merrill touched my back, perhaps in warning.
“My lady, these travelers sold a Tevinter artifact to Bisig at the store. We must be sure...” he said in a cautions voice, looking at us warily.
Hawke met my eyes, but I couldn't explain, Justice was getting angry at seeing a Templar.
Wait, I told him, against his cresting anger and wish to kill them both. I closed my eyes and gripped my hand behind my back so he could not see the fists I could not unclench.
Hawke said apologetically, “I'm sorry Ser, I found that in the effects of some slavers who attacked this knife ear and I months ago. They thought we'd fetch a good price there. I'd have melted it down myself if I knew it was that different. What... how can you tell it's from Tevinter?” She sounded scared when she got to the question.
I'd reopened my eyes as she spoke, to watch him. I could hear more plated bullies coming and Justice wanted to act while we had numerical advantage. The only thing that helped was that he was easier to ignore with my mana so drained.
No one is attacking, I insisted over and over.
They must have been convinced, because the sister patted Dera's arm, saying, “The Maker understands defending the innocent, child, and must surely bless those who continue to work against slavers. Ser Trivor, they're just here for healing supplies. We're fine.”
Unconvinced, the Templar warned, “They should move on, it's been too long since one of the ships made port and tempers are short.”
“Is there an inn?” I asked in a low voice, not that I wanted to stay.
“Not formally,” the sister said with a slight smile, “as we don't have visitors as a rule.”
“We'll go,” Dera said with a sigh. “Maybe we can make Starkhaven or Kirkwall. They'll need mercenaries.”
The Templar relaxed more when he realized we hadn't reacted to losing our mana. He gestured three others away as Hawke finished paying for our purchases.
Justice only simmered.
The Templar coughed and said, “The false Chantry symbol has something like a stylized crenelation above the Maker's sun, easily showing the hubris of their magic over the Maker and Divine Andraste. That image is always part of their iconography or smithing marks.”
Merrill smiled sunnily and thanked him, asking more about the symbols. I merely concentrated on counting my breaths. Hawke asked about a map, even as she packed our latest purchases.
I realized that there weren't even any Tranquil or mages here if the sister was making potions.
Ser Trivor took a moment to kiss the sister's hand in a surprisingly warm moment as Hawke finished tying her pack. I tried to imagine Aveline having that done to her first husband, but just couldn't.
Hawke went into the hall and seemed solemn, either praying or thinking. I tried to as well, but I counted the villagers around us: children and adults, chantry helpers, and Templars. The children for classes alone far outnumbered the sisters and Templars I'd seen. We left, either because Hawke was done praying or because she thought we prayed long enough.
The Templar was civil enough when we were escorted out the door, and I tried to not be too obvious about breathing deeply outside.
Hawke led us along the sluggish stream that was opposite how we entered. Just as we reached the tree line, came the sounds of too many people shifting near us and too many sudden snappy twigs.
Snidely one said as he stepped into view, “Just what we likes to see, stupid travelers with extra coin to spend.”
“Even the boy is pretty,” leered a bigger oaf.
There were maybe a dozen of them I'd already spotted, and I was alarmed about using magic again. I gripped my spear, worried if I did use magic, and worried if I did not.
Hawke said with an almost feral grin, “You, fool, weren't paying attention when I told the sister that my dear elf-friend and I beat a nasty gang of Tevinter slavers. Leave us and live.”
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A/N: Thanks to my beta readers who have been kind enough to read this and point out stupid flubs. Any typos that remain are not intentional... Reviews or a PM to let me know what you think would be very appreciated.
