A Life's Worth

Østagar

"Well I should get going for fear of the search party Loghain will send. But..." Cailan turned to Eloriel, catching her attention with a half smile. "I wouldn't mind your company afterwards." Eloriel looked at Duncan and back to the king. But I don't even understand what's going on, why would I need to see him later?

"Oh, so you can show me the battle plan?"

Duncan coughed over his laughter as the king looked at the elf with a blank expression.

"Yes. Of course."

As the king left, Eloriel looked at Duncan. "Did I do something wrong?" Duncan shook his head as he motioned her to start walking. Once again Duncan began chatting her pointy ear off about darkspawn. Deciding that this subject was unnecessary due to the fact  that all she needed to know was how to kill them, she ignored him.

"Mmhm."

"Meet back to the Warden's camp after you inform Alistair about the initiation."

"Uh, can do, Duncan."

Eloriel marched across the bridge, not caring that her ears were getting the attention of surrounding shemlens. She heard them call her knife-ear. She even hear people ask if she was actually a flat-ear. I am Dalish, she thought to herself with a grimace. I have not abandon the ways of the elvhen. I am no city elf who let shems dump them in shitholes. Dread Wolf will take them and the Creators will get their revenge.

"Ah! Duncan's new recruit!" a cheery soldier says, greeting Eloriel at the opposite side of the bridge. "Welcome to Ostagar, do you need any help?" Now this is a kind human, she thought.

"Nah, not really. Unless, you know where this guy named Alistair is?"

The man nodded his head excitedly. "I think he's still stuck with one of those mages. I overheard the Revered Mother ask him to tell the Circle of Magi to move further away. Those two organizations can't never get along, can they?" Well, the mages are locked up in a tower,  forbidden to leave, while the Chantry and their stupid Divine go on 'Holy Marches' to destroy those who aren't Andrastian.  "The Chantry's filled with a bunch of power hungry pigs," Eloriel  mumbled to herself before leaving.

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"How'd you do that?" the astonished kennel master asked Eloriel as she stepped out of a mabari warhound's pen. "Animals love me," she boasted, a smirk replacing her usual frown. The man was referring to the fact that she had actually been able to muzzle a mabari which drank some darkspawn blood. It would've been easy if it weren't for the breed's intelligence and ability to be imprinted. It's master had died in the last battle so it was confused. "Sometimes it's a curse." She shuddered when she remembered all those times she'd help herd the halla. Every time she had been trampled and never came out with no injury.

"So," Eloriel said, leaning on the fence and petting the dog was was still whining about the muzzle. "Can you fix him now?

The kennel master shrugged, joining her on the pen. "The person he imprinted died, as I have said, so even if I do, he'll stay until his master comes back."

"But the darkspawn-"

"Yes. I know what those inhumane creatures do to the dead, and living, flesh of others." Both of them shook their heads at the thought. The poor thing could be hacked to bits and have its guts strung into decorations or jewelry. People have even seen the things drag helpless people underground. The worst would be eating them alive.

"So is there a cure?"

The kennel master looked at Eloriel and rubbed his head. "Yes. But I don't think-"

"What do I need to get and where?" Eloeiel asked, knowing by his reaction is that it's nothing common such as elfroot.

"Korecari Wilds, near swampy areas, there's a wild plant that grows there and could help. It's very distinctive: all white with a blood-red center," he explained.

"Sure thing," Eloriel said with a nod and a wave.

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The day seemed to go on forever for Eloriel. She had spoken to a deranged soldier, her new companions, ser Jumpy Jory and Lady's man Daveth. She met a rude blacksmith and told him to treat elves with more compassion as well as a prisoner who gave her a key that a creepy man called a Tranquil 'advised' not to use on the chest. She went to meet the mages but Templars forbade entry. All of this and more and still the sun was up. She didn't know what to do until she met an elderly lady leaning against a tree in the Circle's tent.

"Greetings, young lady. You are Duncan's new recruit, are you not? He's not a man easily impressed. You should be proud," she told her. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Wynne, one of the mages summoned by the king."

Eloriel bowed her head. "I am Eloriel, a pleasure." She sensed that Wynne, like may shemlens here, does not look kindly to her opinions and she knew to keep her words civil.

"Well met, and good luck to you on the battlefield. To us all, in fact."

Eloriel didn't know why this shemlem was being so kind to her, most here gave her second glances and names. "Will you be fighting beside the king?" she asked her.

"Not precisely. The Grey Wardens will be on the front lines, not the mages. Still, we have our parts to play. To defeat the darkspawn, we have to work together. It's not an idea everyone seems able to grasp."

The lady appeared quite wise to Eloriel, something she rarely associates with shemlens.

"You've faced darkspawn before?"

"Stragglers, yes-- not the vast horde the scouts speak of. I wonder... how much do you know of the connection between the darkspawn and the Fade?" Wynne inquired.

"We call it the Beyond... but I know of no connection," Eloriel answered.

"Any time your spirit leaves your earthly body, whether it's to dream or to die, it passes into the realm we call the Fade. It's home to many spirits, some benevolent, others far less so. At the heart of the Fade lies the Black City." Eloriel gritted her teeth and reluctantly continued the conversation.

"What's the Black City?" She already knew though.

"Some say the Black City was once the seat of the Maker..." Wynne continued but at this point, Eloriel refused to listen to their religious stories. How could it be a city if it was a seat? Did the 'Maker' constantly squash the citizens? "...At least, that's what the Chant of Light says." Eloriel's ears perked up. 'At least'? So she is as crazy as she thought she was.

"The Chantry says many things," Eloriel noted.

"It may be allegory, meant to teach us that our own evil causes human suffering. Or it may be true. It is as good as any explanation, for now." Eloriel liked Wynne. This was a shemlem who was actually open-minded.

"I'll just kill every darkspawn I see. They shouldn't have come to existence, I plan to eliminate them," Eloriel said boldly.

"A wise attitude. It's worked well for me in the past. But I'm certain Duncan has more for you to do than talk to me." Sensing the mage's eagerness said goodbye and left, not knowing what she meant.

Huh?

What did Duncan need me to do?