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Scouts of the Inquisition (Alvis & Sync)

Sync

Sync

Corporate Drone
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Dec 29, 2011
Location
Australia
I remember a young girl…happy, playing with other children…living in the forest with her clan, Clan Fihrallen…watching the craftsmen do their work…listening to the stories of the Keeper and the Hahren…learning about the Halla and the Creators…wondering when she will get to care for the Halla like others do…

I remember a young girl…watching the hunters go into the forest to bring back kills for the Clan…watching the crafters forge swards and create bows and make armour…watching the Keeper and his First perform enchantments on the weapons of the Hunters…wondering if she will one day be able to fashion a bow as well as the craftsman she watches does…

I remember a young girl…laughing with her parents, tracing her finger along the vallaslin on their faces…wondering when she will get her own…playing the learning games with other children in the Clan…being careful to not stray too far from the Clan lest she be captured by the hateful humans…

I remember a young girl…learning the Code of Vir Tanadhal, given to the Dalish by Anduil herself: Vir Assan, the Way of the Arrow; Vir Bor’Assan, the Way of the Bow; Vir Adahlen, the Way of the Forest…overhearing a Hunter speaking of Vir Banal’ras, the Way of Shadow, and wondering what it means…learning that the Clan’s Healer followed Vir Atish’an, the Way of Peace…

I am not that girl.

That girl had her life that could have been taken from her when she was eight and came into her magic. The Clan already had a Keeper and a First and a Second…Clan Fihrallen did not allow more than three magic-capable within it. That girl tried to hide her magic at first, scared of it, not understanding just how it was she could use it; it was an accident, when snapping her fingers during the night had conjured a tiny flame in the palm of her hand, she hadn’t meant it. But the talent could not be hidden for long, and the Clan knew soon enough that they had more magic than it could bear inside it. She was given a pack and a dagger and sent on her way to wander through the forest in the north-west of the land called Ferelden. She wandered for days, scared, alone, hiding…shivering from cold and hunger, never knowing which step would be her final one. She came upon a village of humans, almost by surprise; the humans saw her, saw the pointed ears, started yelling at her to go away, or ordering her to do things as if she was some slave they owned. A flash of anger from her saw her hand covered in fire – briefly, but it was enough. The humans were suddenly fearful and left her alone, but the next day two large men in armour found her and took her away from the village. They looked after her but did not treat her well. If the two men had been made entirely of the metal they wore, she would not have been surprised. She was taken to a tower, given a bed, a bath, food and drink…and she was told she would be cared for, taught, educated, instructed. She was told she could never leave the tower, for her own safety. For many years she was a well-taught and well-cared for prisoner, instructed in the use of the magic that scared her.

I am that girl.

Loriel Fihrallen – if she abandoned the name of the Clan that had abandoned her, she’d be just “Loriel” – was given to reflecting on the events of her life so far…and there were a lot of them. She was a young woman, now, a few months past nineteen years. Like most elves, she stood at just under five-and-a-half feet tall, about the same height as an average human woman; her chest-long dark brown hair, normally light and bouncy even in its regular pony tail, hung drab and limp in the rain that seemed to constantly fall in the place they were in; her large, pale-blue eyes were bright, and peered out from deep sockets that were accentuated by high and slightly-angled cheekbones; her small, straight nose sat proudly in the middle of her small, slightly-rounded face, and was perched just above a thin-lipped mouth that rarely smiled these days. A drop of rain rolled down her nose and she wiped it away in annoyance.

Like most elves, Loriel, too, was possessed of a thin frame, a slender figure, long and thin limbs. There was no doubting she was female, though; those physical properties that defined a female body were well-present in Loriel, and although her breasts were not large nor her hips wide, they were sufficient in both cases that she could never be mistaken for a male. As to her craft these days…few would mistake her for being other than what she was: a mage. The staff she carried saw to that. She had long ago lost her dagger; indeed, it had been taken from her when the two men in armour – Templars – had found her. These days she carried a staff that was almost as tall as she was, a pole fashioned from a wood she did not know, leather bindings wrapped along much of the shaft for grip, a tapered blade of iron at one end and a small blue crystal fixed at the other. She had used the staff in anger once, and knew that it favoured small bolts of electricity that shot out of the crystal; she clearly remembered the soft hum of the lightning fragments as they darted from the staff towards her foe. She was a mage, but her magic still scared her; she had only recently passed her Harrowing, but her magic still scared her.

She was not necessarily aloof, but she’d chosen to sit apart from the rest of the group she was with; it wasn’t quite her way, to sit apart, but she didn’t really feel like she belonged. They were at a camp, a dozen or so of them, in this place called The Fallow Mire: it was a dark, dreary place, a virtual desolation of swamp, where the sun never seemed to shine and the rain seemed to be the only constant. Their party was an advance scout: led by a dwarven woman named Lace Harding, their job was to make reconnaissance of an area for when the Herald of Andraste arrived. Reportedly the Herald was the only person who could seal the rifts in the Fade that had recently begun appearing all over the place, and there were a few noted here…at least Loriel could understand that much.

Her thin robes hung about her, clinging to her lithe form from the soaking given to them by the rain, as she waited for Harding to give instructions to the group. The robes were not about to become see-through, there was no danger of that, but wet, clingy robes were never fun to have to wear. She was starting to doubt she’d ever be dry again…or warm. The Fallow Mire was in the southern part of Ferelden, not too far from the Korcari Wilds, and southern Ferelden was generally cold. Add a dark, wet swamp to the cold, and the Fallow Mire was looking like being a very unattractive part of Thedas.

She sneezed, a small, dainty sound, and rubbed her nose again to get rid of the rain drops that would never leave her alone. Hopefully Harding would have those instructions soon. At least it was only a light rain, and not a heavy downpour.
 
No matter the hour, it was always dark, adn it was always raining. The Mire was a place that very few came to, and even fewer thought well of. The damp and the chill and the very stench of the place was an excellent deterrent to those who came in without ill intent. Smugglers and barbarians were a frequent haunt to the place, which made one of the new arrivals seem less out of place.

There was a primary camp, frequented by the main scouting team of the newly minted Inquisition. Most kept close to it, aiming for safety in numbers. Few had ventured deeper in, and fewer still were outside of the camp. A small fire was burning, it was a smoky affair caused by some of the wood being salvaged from the Mire itself. One man stayed close to it, seemingly un-bothered by the rain or the cold. He was kneeling close to the flames, what looked like a piece of antler in his hand, holding it over the flames and rotating it slowly as he examined the smoothed and sharpened edges. Care had gone into what he was holding, it seemed an antler dagger.

The man was not a small one, looking to be over six feet in height if he stood straight, and more than five feet across at the shoulder. His face was seamed and weathered, long years of care and stress etched there. He was tanned and wind-burnt, a man clearly used to the extremes of weather. He looked out at the world through bright hazel eyes, edging towards a golden hue. Wolf eyes they had been called more than once. His chest, forearms, and lower legs were necased in a burnished grey metal, carefully treated to make sure they held no real shine. The rest of him was wrapped in heavy furred hide, taken from the bodies of some of the larger bears that were seen in Thedas. There were belts across his chest, and thighs, all them studded with what looked like short stabbing blades, but there seemed to be no hint of metal amongst them. Standing tall beside him, it's point embedded in the ground, was a sword. The blade was nearly five feet long, and a full hands width across. Unlike other weapons among the scouts, this one had no shine of metal on it. It glowed faintly in the firelight, a dull ivory colour, like aged tooth or bone. A flatblade, a weapon well known to be used among the Chasind of the Korcari Wilds, but even then only by some of their greater warriors, and all of them were known to be blessed by the shamans of the tribes. Such was teh legacy of Disa of the clan SIlverfire, known to his people as the Restless for his long travels.

Older than many of the scouts at this point, Disa had been given command of a small team by Harding, not wanting to waste his experience. Travels to many regions of Thedas, long years of experience in avoiding conflict and heading straight into it, he had a long and varied set of skills to his name. He looked back to the camp. He'd met two of the people that Harding was assigning to his team, a man named Garrett that had been a scout in the Orlesian army for some years before leavingn to join the Inquisition. He was quick, quiet, and good at his job. The other was a hunter from Redcliffe, Good with a bow and good at spotting signs. Disa had been told by Harding that he would be getting a fourth soon, and then they would be sent out to bring back a record of the surrounding area. It was what they were here for, and Disa wanted to get to it already.

He'd enlisted into the Inquisition out a sense of requirement. There was a huge damned hole int he sky now, and if the Herald had managed to limit the effect of it, the fact remained that it was still there, adn had been raining demons onto the land for some time. While things seemed to have calmed down, there were still open fade rifts, adn from them demons still periodically poured out. The Mire was always a dangerous place, but it had become lethal of late. Disa contented himself with the thought that he had faced worse in his time than demons or undead. Disa cocked his head at the sound of a faint sound, almost like a child sneezing. But there was no child anywhere around them. He looked about, trying to pick outt he source of hte sound. There was a slight form standing not too far from other members of his team. Finally, after what felt like forever, Harding appeared. Disa sighed in relief. Almost time to move then. He knew his standing orders, so returned to hardening his antler.

Harding didn't speak much to her team in the field, there was little need. Simple instructions, work to be done. She looked to Garret, and nodded.
"Your team could use some magic support, take the new girl with you. Once you're all acquainted, get to it." The dwarf said simply. Garret looked over to see the new girl. The elf. Having already met his direct superior, he had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn't going to go over terribly well. Still, orders were orders, adn he stepped closer to her.
"Miss?" He asked, no sure of her name. "I'm Scout Garret, and Lieutenant harding has asked me to show you to your Scout Sergeant so we can get underway." He said with a pleasant tone to his voice, gesturing to the more distant camp fire that Disa crouched at.
 
Loriel looked up at the voice that sounded near her. Finally, someone letting her know just what she was supposed to be doing. The man – human, of course – had a neutral…no, almost welcoming…expression on his face, the expression more-or-less matching the tone of the voice that accompanied it. He was wearing what looked like standard armour, carried a dagger at his hip and a small blade on his other hip…or at least she thought he was. Might have just been a trick of the light, what blades she imagined him carrying. She nodded, wiped her nose clean of rain drops again, picked up her staff, and slowly stood up.

“Loriel,” she announced in a small, uncertain voice. “Loriel…Fihrallen.” She felt the small catch in her voice – like she was about to declare herself without clan. She may as well be. “You said Lieutenant Harding has orders for us?” She followed the man – Garret, he’d said his name was – to the small fire not too far off. She was aware of her boots falling on the spongy ground – if there was solid, rocky ground, she was managing to so far find every space without it. Her robes, now quite effectively soaked, were clinging to her and making it a little more difficult to move in, but not so much that she was actually being hampered.

As they walked, she slung her staff over her shoulder – the small strap was also magical, to match the staff, and slung over her shoulder in much the same manner as a bowman would sling his bow, but when the staff was grabbed for use, the strap would disappear, only to again appear when the staff needed to be secured. It was part of the curiosity that was a mage’s staff: no-one except those who crafted staves knew how they worked, and some suspected even the craftsmen themselves didn’t know.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she approached the fire with Garret. She was actually going on a real mission, and she was going to be expected to support these people – they might end up relying on her. She wasn’t sure she could do this, but this was where the Inquisition had sent her, and Harding had apparently determined this was where she was going to be best used. If only they knew that she had no real experience outside the Tower – she’d only completed her Harrowing a couple of weeks ago!

Then she caught sight of the man who would apparently be leading them: he was much taller than she, and seemed to be almost as wide as she was tall. Wrapped in hides and furs and small blades…she may have been in a Tower for most of her life, but she recognised this one from what studies she remembered from her clan, and she just knew that this was going to be a Bad Idea. As tempting as it might have been to turn away, she steeled herself; she needed to push through this. She stopped and pushed a lock of rain-soaked hair from her forehead.

“We have orders, Sergeant?” she asked in a quiet and flat voice.
 
Disa looked up frorm his fire, seeing the approach of his team. He listened to the new arrival speak, adn took her in. By all the Gods adn their Mothers, she was a slight thing. She looked like he could break her in half, but then perhaps that was being unkind. When you were that height, then there was only so much you could do to offset that. He picked out the way her robes had clearly not been treated for the weather. He saw a point of iron near her legs, had amoment of wondering if against all odds he had a spear carrying scout. But no, the clothes, the build, and the crystal capping off the staff told him what he needed to know.
"I asked for another scout to join my team, and I'm given a knife-eared robe?" Disa asked, checking the antler blade again, before rubbing a little grease intot he blade to help seal it from the elements. Once done, he homed it in a sheath near his knee.

Garret swallowed. It wasn't a secret that Disa had some issues with elves at time, and a few with mages, but this was more pronounced. There were few magesw that didn't take exception to the term 'robe', and no elf yet born took the name 'knife ear' easily.
"Sir-" Garret started, but Disa cut him off.
"Her clan?" Disa demanded, looking right at Garret.
"Sir, she's right here, she can-"
"Clan name, Scout." Garret sighed.
"Fihrallen sir."

"Oh, wonderful, my day keeps getting better and better." Disa groused, standing up from the fire, pushing hte fur off of his arms. The hide armour that was on his upper arms seemed ringed with bands of steel, each of them looking a little different. Garret had seen this before, adn knew what they were. Trophy rings, each one said to be hammered out of the blade of a worthy foe that Disa had felled. As he was standing, and looking at the newly arrived elf, a hand was absently trailing along his abdomen, like he was retracing the ghostly echoes of a sensation. "So tell me now Robe, are you Harding's idea of a joke? Or are your skills far past your look? Because you look like you're barely out of the womb. So what is it you're specialized in? Fire won't be terribly helpful in all this damp and chill. Cold would be a winner, and lightning is always practical. Or did they send me a healer, which is useful in and of itself. So what can I expect from you? What can I count on you for?" Disa asked, folding his arms over his chest, keepign his back straight, taller than either of the men, but towering over the soaked and bedraggled looking elf.
 
Oh, that stung. Loriel was sure the man couldn’t be any more negative about her if he tried. It was hard – exceedingly hard – to form a good First Impression of a person when that person’s opening words were insults. It didn’t help that the man was right about her on many levels, but he’d gotten her hackles up the moment he’d finished his first sentence. Garret, she thought, was embarrassed for her…on her behalf. Clearly the scout didn’t hold the same attitudes as their sergeant – or, if he did, he was more discreet about it.

Loriel felt the annoyance rise to the surface, and she wasn’t able – or inclined, now – to try and keep it down. She felt her right hand clench into a small, tight fist as she responded in a quiet, but heated, voice.

“My skills are more supportive and defensive,” she hissed angrily. “You are right that I’m young, but that does not make me useless or incapable. My staff generates bolts of electricity to damage or stun. I can provide some healing, and I can create barriers that can protect against the attacks of your foes. And if you can keep a civil tongue in that thick shem head of yours, I might even let you benefit from my skills.”

She might have looked almost comical, as she stared up angrily at a man who was close to a full foot taller than her and easily twice both her width and mass, raindrops falling off the tip of her nose, her light-grey robes darkened with the soaking of the rain…the idea that she might have looked silly apparently hadn’t occurred to her. All she knew was that he was right that she was barely old enough to have experience of any worth, she didn’t have any kind of useful experience, and she was angry enough that she’d prove him wrong or die trying.

“Now, you can accept that I’m in your group as additional support, or you can run away and complain to Lieutenant Harding. Which will it be, shem?”
 
Garett stared at Loriel for a moment. It was hard to say if the words she'd chosen were the perfect option, or one that would end up with her nursing a broken jaw. Disa was sometimes hard to predict, especially around elves. The scout shifted slightly, not wanting to be in the line of fire if this went badly.

Disa simply cocked his head to one side, taking in the sight of this wisp of a girl standing her ground. He threw his head back and barked out a laugh. When he looked at her once more there was a smile on his face.
"Oh, and the Robe has some spirit to her! Good, that alone may keep you alive in this place knife-ear!" He announced. His smile fell then, and he unfolded his arms, his face and tone taking on a deadly serious regard. "But know, if my words offend you spellbind, Tel'abelas."

As he finished that last, both of the other scouts blinked in surprise. Of all the things they had expected to hear from Disa, a phrase spoken in well enunciated Elvish was not one of them. Given his disdain for them, it seemed odd that he might be well acquainted enough to speak a language that most elves did not.

"You are now a part of a military force knife-ear, your personal opinions and feelings are completely without merit. If those feelings cause you to withhold support that this team would benefit from, then you will have become nothing more than a liability, which is exactly what I expect of you. And if you do not support the team, the team does not support you, and tell me now, which do you think is most needing of support?" Disa asked, his tone making it clear that he knew the answer, and didn't rightly expect one from her. He turn, and gripped the long haft of his flat blade, and pulled it from the ground. No ring of metal came, only the quiet of the newly disturbed earth pulled free by the blade. The guard on the blade slotted into a pair of hooks the hung at Disa's shoulders, hanging without a sheathe on his back. "Now then. All three of you. Fall in. We have work to do." Disa waved a hand, and started to advance inot the Mire, not looking back to see if the others followed him.

Garret nodded at the last few pieces of the Disa's speech. Not pleasant, but true. The team lived or died by the ability to support one another. He made a fast check of himself, confirming his gear, before nodding to the hunter among them. That man had his bow out, and was stalking after their over-sized sergeant.
"Well then Loriel, shall we?" He asked with a faint smile, his tone faintly teasing, but also encouraging. He winked at her a moment, adn then began his advance into the Mire. Time to go to work.
 
Loriel was at least gratified the man found her spirit not lacking. But there was no way he’d done anything like give her confidence that he was a good man. He might be a good soldier, but he was not a good person…and to Loriel, that made all the difference. He hadn’t asked for her name beyond her clan, hadn’t bothered to give her the names of the rest of their troop, and his only words to her were insulting and denigrating. However…he’d clearly had some extended contact with elves before, given his slight use of the elven language; whether he knew more, or only knew a few choice phrases, time would tell. If she cared to find out. It was surprising enough that he knew that phrase.

Garret, though…she was warming to him, if only in a personal way. He’d tried to defend her against their sergeant, tried to be at the least neutral towards her, if not friendly…this Garret she could work with. The other scout, the one with the bow, had barely looked at her throughout the entire interaction, possibly in agreement with their sergeant’s general demeanour towards both elves and mages. If their sergeant’s attitude towards her didn’t improve, she’d speak to Harding later about a new assignment. Surely the Inquisition, fledgling as it was, would have uses for a healer mage.

For a moment she hesitated, as the sergeant and Bow-man stalked off, followed by Garret. A second of indecision – should she follow? It was tempting not to. But…that would look bad if she didn’t. She could probably blame the sergeant, say he didn’t want her on the team – that wouldn’t be a lie, for while his words barely accepted her, his attitude fully rejected her. But Garret…he didn’t deserve to be abandoned just because his sergeant was an ass. She sighed softly, checked her staff was still secured over her shoulders, then moved on to catch up with Garret.

The ground was wet, a little soggy, yielding to footfalls but not enough to try and trap boots. Her robe was long enough that it was dragging through the wet grass, just making the garment wetter than it already was…if that was possible. As she caught up to Garret she brought her hand up to her nose and mouth to muffle another sneeze, then she fell into step beside the man.

“He is len’alas lath’din,” she muttered with annoyance as she matched the scout’s stride; there was no disguising the fact that her words had been intended as an insult. “Sorry,” she added quickly, her glance flicking towards the man next to her. “Your sergeant does not hold any regard for me. Have you known him long?”
 
Disa kept moving, taking int he surrounding area, picking out the features fo the land. Narrow bands of 'dry' land, small islands off into the waters, easily reached since the water wasn't more than knee deep in most places. But then again, the Fallow Mire was a dangerous place under most circumstances, since the Breach it had become much more dangerous. He saw a form moving out in the waters, and held up a hand to slow the rest fo the team. He pointed to the form, and then gestured, directing them around it. It staggered like an undead, and while there was only one of them, he had no desire to go after it and potentially attract however many more of them might be out there.

Cutting across the ground brought his feet into contact with firmer ground, something solid. The old trade road, still running through the Mire. It wasn't maintained, but it was still used often enough to keep it usable to most. It would provide easier movememtn, but it would also leave them more exposed. Nothing for it. Disa led them forward along the road.

Garret sighed at the question.
"Not long. Long enough to know him some. There is...history between him and the Dalish, and he carries it closer than might be wisest." Garret said quietly, a political way of saying that he didn't agree with Disa's stance, but perhaps did understand it.
 
“Mmm,” Loriel replied quietly. “He has more than some history, if he’s taken the trouble to learn some of the language of the elvehn.” That Garret was apparently happy to talk with her made her feel a little more at ease. She could sense the man wasn’t going to do or say anything to upset or offend their sergeant, and she was fine with that; she wasn’t about to take a backward step from their leader’s attitude, so she’d confront him directly if need be.

“So what’s his name?” she asked curiously, her ears very aware of the sounds their feet were making as they trudged through the damp grass and soggy ground.

“Disa,” Garret replied shortly, then held up his hand to quiet her conversation, and pointed at a shambling figure not far to one side in the waters. He’d seen Disa’s gestures, but wasn’t sure if Loriel had – she may not have, and he wasn’t going to take the chance she hadn’t, nor risk Disa’s ire for not making sure the girl was quiet when needed.

The elven girl at least acknowledged the instruction to keep quiet when she saw Garret raise his hand and point, and her eyes followed his gesture. It took her a couple of seconds, but her eyes picked out what Garret was pointing at, and they narrowed slightly. Instinctively her hand went to her staff, the strap vanishing to release the weapon as her fingers closed around the shaft; she held it ready, the blue crystal at the staff’s tip flickering slightly as the staff was called to action.

“Undead,” she hissed softly, as she followed Garret’s lead in making sure her feet found solid ground – or ground as solid as possible in this mire. She might have little experience, but she had lots of knowledge from years of study on a lot of lore…and from the terror-filled weeks in the Ferelden Circle Tower during the Fifth Blight, before the Hero of Ferelden had come through.

Garret looked at the elf and nodded slightly – he had to concede to her knowledge, he knew. He idly wondered if Disa would do the same when warranted, but would never give voice to that thought. Then their feet found the more-solid road, and the pair moved ahead.

Loriel didn’t secure her staff, though; she could see that Garret had returned his knives to their sheathes on his hips, but she was not that comfortable that she wanted to secure her staff. She had a feeling that things were going to get worse before they got better.
 
The road was as solid as could be expected,the hard stones that had been laid out were half sunken now, but they were still easier footing than the grasses ahd been. The dead that stumbled through the waters didn't pick them out, and seemed content to let them be for now. Disa strained his ears to pick out the sounds of the Mire. The steps of the aimless dead, the breathing of the team that followed him. And there was a faint, intermittent crackle. He risked a glance behind him. The mage was armed, adn her staff gave very faint sparks now and again. Not as subtle as he mighht like, but it wasn't somethign that would give them away either, not with the random nature of it's flaring.

They pressed on.

Disa raised a closed fist as they came to a raised stone bluff that jut close tot he road. They moved into the lee of it, out of hte wind, and into more limited fall of rain. Disa flared out his cloak around himself, and drew out what looked like parchment and charcoal. He scribed neat, quick lines onto the parchment, mapping out the way they had come. He checked his work, nodded, adn then tucked the parchment away once more.
"Take a few moments. Drink. Eat if you wish." He said quietly. Travel like this had gone on long enough that he knew that there would need to be a break now, while things were quiet. Disa pulled a flask from his hip, downed some water. He wiped his mouth, and looked up at the raining sky. He was concerned that there might be some other form of attacker that he didn't yet know of. After all, demons had rained from the breach. Who was to say some form of demon would not take wing, and come at them from such an angle?

Garret leaned on the bluff, taking a drink from his own flask, and then offering it to Loriel. It was a simple enough gesture, something to show that her truly bore her no ill will. The last of the team stretched, adn approached the edge of the waters, not far from them. he knelt, and reached his hands out.
"Do not-!" Disa started to hiss out, but the hunter splashed his hadns in the waters, looking to clean them of something he'd acquired on them in their travel. Seconds later an arrow hissed into the ground not an inch from him. Disa cursed, a fierce, roiling sound that came from his own native language. Off in the waters, the undead with a bow drew back again, and fired, the hunter actively dodging this shot, and getting his own bow out. The water rippled as three corpses stood up near the hunter. Disa snarled adn threw himself forward, his weapon in hand, and landing beside one of the new attackers. His flatblade swept in, and the sound the sheared bones filled the air quickly. His landing in the water prompted the rising of another two corpses fromt he waters, one of these having a bow, and drawing back to fire.

It seemed that they'd found their opposition ready for them.
 
Loriel was content to hang back slightly as the group came to a brief stop. She watched as Disa checked their surroundings, checked the group – probably reluctantly including herself, she thought idly – checked the terrain. She was curious as he drew parchment and charcoal from a pocket, then nodded in understanding as he made a quick sketch of what appeared to be a rough map of their path so far. His suggestion that they break for a snack or drink was a good one, except she only had a small bag of nuts with her, and didn’t have the space in her robes to carry a flask. Trying to drink the rain water would be futile, and there was no way she’d even consider drinking from the swamp.

The surprise was obvious on her face when Garret offered his flask to her, and her hesitation in accepting was born from natural, ingrained suspicion. In her experience, the Ferelden Circle treated all mages as equal…if you were human; an elven mage was not-quite equal, and a dalish mage even less so. A couple of inappropriate advances towards her had started as simple acts of apparent kindness such as Garret was doing now. She forced her suspicion down and took the offered flask, in return offering her bag of nuts to him. She was silently thankful when the man took a handful, and she carefully sipped from the flask a couple of times before handing it back. She was starting to like the man; certainly he was so far easier to get along with than their sergeant.

She heard Disa’s partial warning, but it seemed to be too late, and then things escalated rapidly. The undead they’d seen earlier suddenly noticed them, then more started appearing from the swamp around them, arrows started hissing towards them; Loriel had barely had enough time to return the nuts to her small pouch when an arrow swished past her lithe body. Then Disa was striding into the swamp waters to attack, more undead were appearing…there wasn’t a connection, was there?

She called on her energy reserves and pushed her will out; a soft sound sounded around the small team as Loriel felt her skin tingle slightly, confirming she’d successfully called a magical barrier into place. She knew the other three would also feel that light warm tingle on their skin. The barrier would not last for ever, but it would stop them – by subtly deflecting blows – from being damaged while it lasted.

“Na din’an sahlin!” she hissed as she began swinging her staff in both hands. “Andruil guide us!” Each time the tip of the staff changed direction, a bolt of electricity darted from the crystal with a small hum and unerringly struck its target; the energy wasn’t overly damaging, but it never missed, and she could stay back at range to do her attacking; she was using that minor advantage to mainly attack the undead archers she could see, if she didn’t kill them she’d certainly distract them enough to allow the others to get in closer and finish them off. She was also aware that Garret had drawn his daggers and was moving into the water to attack; these walking corpses were armed and hostile, but not particularly bright or quick, and she could see Garret was easily able to position himself to do damage. But she also noticed two more corpses beginning to emerge near where Garret had stepped into the waters…

“Stay out of the water!” she called out to the others as loudly as she dared. “Stepping into the water seems to draw them!” Even as she spoke, she sensed another arrow, then another, fly too close to her and get deflected by her barrier…and she wished she knew more magic than just the couple of basic defensive spells she did, wished she wasn’t as scared by her magic as she was. At least her attacks, such as they were, would never accidentally hit one of her companions, although the very-close proximity of magical energy might unsettle them a little. She was now aware of four…five corpses near them, if only fleetingly aware. Right now, she was more focussed on doing what she could to stop the corpses from harming her companions.
 
The dull thump of a barrier going up, combined with the scnet of the forest suddenly coming over him let Disa know that whatever her failings might be, at least the elf was quick enough on the draw to get a spell off. Perhaps one of the only spells she knew, but it was a good one to have. The hunter drew his bow back hard, and drew a bead, sending an arrow into the swamp. The solid thwack of a hit filled the air, letting Disa know that whatever failings that the hunter had, aim wasn't one of them. The enemy archer staggered a moment, before a bolt of lightning struck it. The body jolted, adn came apart under that last hit, whatever integrity it had been holding onto giving way. Disa put that from his mind, stepping forward once more, letting the barrier take a hit for him, knowing it wouldn't last, so he may as well get use out of it.

The called words from the elf were not wrong, he knew the farther he went, the more likely it was that getting out would turn into a fighting withdrawal. It was likely already too late for that the more he thought about it. Garret was poised to leap in with him, but Disa called him short.
"Back! Stay with the mage! Make sure we're not flanked!" Disa roared, the long balde of his sword weaving through precisely controlled arcs to keep the swinging blades of his foes off of him. There was a stirring in the waters again, and he swore. More of them. The hunter was back towards Loriel now, Garret reluctantly stepping back to defend the two of them. Disa backed up slowly, feeling that tingle start to fade off of his body, letting him know the barrier was fading. Between the mage and the hunter, the other undead with a bow had been dealt with, adn Disa felt his feet hit dry, or as dry as this place ever got, land.

He was almost surrounded, the corpses moving up to take position around him, six of them. Garret moved to help, but came up short when he saw Disa's face. It wasn't worried. The big man was grinning.

Disa ducked under a blow, using that motion to turn, bending low and bringing his flatblade close to his hips. When he came back around, he extended the blade. The edge hit the upper leg of the first foe, before rising to cleave through the opposite hip. The next was sheared in half at the ribs, adn Disa controlled the rise of the blade from there, keeping it reasonably level. There was no ring of metal, only the humming sound that the blade gave off, a vibration that raised more questions than anything. Disa gave a half roar as he finished the motion, taking the last corpse int he head, shearing it in half deftly. Garret only stared at his sergeant, as the brief thunder of compabt faded into the mire.

"Sir? That was..." Garret started, but trailed off.
"Just corpses Garret, not particularly dangerous if you keep your head. Numbers can tell, but it's all in how you approach the fight." Disa replied, homing his flatblade onto his back.
"Where did you learn to do that?"
"My people. Some skirmishes with the knife ears taught me a few tricks. That one I picked up from a dwarf back in the Blight." Garret didn't answer, the implications of it weighing on him. He had suspected his sergeant had been active during the Blight, but to hear it confirmed...there weren't a lot of people that had actively fought the Darkspawn in the Inquisition these days. After that display, more was the pity it seemed.

Disa stared at the Hunter.
"Tip them off like that again, and you and I will have a disagreement. THings like this don't rely on sight to find things. It's mostly by sound adn by feel. Disturbing the water will bring them down on us. The Spellbind figured that out a handful of seconds intot he fight, the hell is your excuse?" Disa challenged. The hunter looked away. Disa turned his gaze to Loriel. "Nice to see you're not completely useless knife-ear. Everyone get back in position. We're moving on."
 
Any feeling of pride or satisfaction Loriel might have gained from the fight faded rapidly as Disa spoke. Firstly about the casual way in which he spoke of fighting against her people, although it was not such a surprise; she knew her clan had fought with Chasind before, and while the Chasind were very capable warriors when they closed to melee, they weren’t capable of matching the Dalish archers. There was also the way he referred to her in the third person, as if she wasn’t there, and that he seemed determined to belittle her at every opportunity. And to top it off, his effort at complimenting her efforts was…barely an acknowledgement that she’d contributed. She felt her hackles rise again. It was sorely tempting to not include him the next time she threw a barrier up, to make him value her more.

She hadn’t disgraced herself in the fight by any means. While she could not claim any kills for herself – well, maybe one… - she had done a better than fair job of keeping the attention of the corpses scattered, and she’d also done a fair job of combatting the undead archers with her staff. She’d get better, she knew, and she might even unlock more magical power within her. But there was no way she’d remain with this group, if she could at all avoid it. Harding could be convinced to move her to another unit.

The elven girl could have fired back at Disa any number of ways, given how the man seemed to delight in insulting her every chance he got. She could feel the rage slowly boil within, and the feeling dredged up a memory…feeling helpless, alone, cast-out…the humans don’t want me near their village…they cannot look past the ears to see the hungry and frightened girl…they start yelling at me, telling me to go, to leave, I’m not welcome…calling me knife-ear, scum, baby-snatcher…hot anger boils, my leg suddenly feels warm, my hand is surrounded by fire but it doesn’t hurt me…the humans are suddenly very quiet and fearful…a memory of a less-enjoyable time – but then, most of her memories were of less-enjoyable times. These days, the less-enjoyable memories outweighed the enjoyable ones.

She kept her anger to herself, knowing that rising to his bait would achieve nothing for her. It wouldn’t change his mind about her, and would only add to her frustration at his determination to put her down, to refuse to see her worth. No, she’d see her time with this group then move on at the first opportunity after they got back to camp. She adjusted her grip on her staff and stood up straight. She noticed Garret didn’t seem to know what to make of the apparently dislike the sergeant had for the young mage. Loriel felt she’d not enjoy leaving Garret behind.

“My name,” she hissed at Disa as she stalked towards him before taking her position at the rear of the group, “is Loriel. Remember that, shem.” There was nothing else to say, and the group started to make their way further into the Mire. If Disa made any comment, gave any reaction, to her hissed words just now, Loriel didn’t notice. She was busy keeping the great oaf out of her mind.
 
Disa heard her talking to him, but it wasn't important. If it was, he had no doubt that one of the others would have brought it to his attention shortly after it had been spoken. But they ahd to keep ont he move. He paused beside one of the low, crumbling walls that showed up now and then along the road, adn shuffled one of the rock piles, making a trail sign in the way of his people. He'd showed these signs to most of the other scouts, especially to Harding. No sense in having ways to leave information for anyone else if they couldn't read the signs. Once he'd finished that, he rose and moved down the road.

Disa spread his arms, hands tilted to show his desire for them to spread out. WHile it made it hard to have more than one person covered by a barrier at a time, it would lessen the odds of them being seen if they weren't a group. The hunter moved off to the right. Garret moved right, but still kept somewhat close to Loriel. He seemed to be taking the role of keeping her somewhat safe onto himself. Had Disa noticed, Garret wasn't sure, and was equally uncertain if their sergeant would care or not. There were more corpses out there, Garret could see them, and if he could, he was sure that Loriel could too. The dead stumbled about int he waters, seeking something to fight, something to kill. The scouts did not seem eager to oblige them.

The farther forward they went, the more Disa seemed to be able to make out a glow in the distance. He held up a hand, and then gestured, drawing the group back to him. There was nothing near them that seemed to be dangerous for the moment, so it seemed like this was the time to do it.
"Okay team. Not a lot of things will leave a glow like that this far in this rain. It's either powerful magic...or we might have just found a rift." Disa said calmly. "So, I'm asking for opinions here. Do we try and skirt it, or just go right through and hope for the best?"
 
Loriel watched curiously as Disa arranged piles of rocks as they travelled. She knew the Chasind did that, of course – left piles of rocks along trails, organised in such a way as to impart information to those who knew how to read them. She reasoned that there would be some in Harding’s scouting party who knew how to read such signs, but Loriel wasn’t one of them. If it had been Disa who had imparted the knowledge of how to read the trail signs, she’d never find out how from him.

As the group spread out, she found herself working more closely with Garret. The scout had seemed to decide to be a kind-of protector to her, or something like that, and she was thankful that at least one of their little party seemed to find some value in her. She’d never say anything of course, not now – doing so might deflate what he was doing, might give him cause to reconsider. She felt it was better to let his role go unmentioned, lest it cause tension. Disa, if he’d noticed, didn’t seem to care, or would probably be happy the task hadn’t fallen to him. She had seen a few walking corpses shuffling aimlessly through the swamp a short distance away from them – close enough to be seen, but far enough that they didn’t appear to notice the scouting party. Loriel was very aware of how short she was on offensive magic, and didn’t relish the idea of another fight where her contribution was limited to support.

The glow they approached, though…Loriel could sense the ebb and flow from it. Her connection to magic, to the Fade…this small greenish-glow drew on the mage, although not in any way that was harmful to her or might compromise her. She knew it to be a rift such as what was known to be at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, but she’d never seen one before now. So far as she could see, it was just the four of them around the glow – any corpses were further off, as if they chose to stay away from this tear in the Veil. As Disa spoke, everyone else stood back…but Loriel stepped forwards a little, as if wanting to get to know this enigma.

“It’s…a rift,” the elven mage offered quietly as her footsteps pulled her a little closer. Her head tilted to one side slightly, her brow furrowing as she focussed. “It…it’s not properly formed. It’s thin, threadbare if you like, maybe…waiting to be disturbed so it can tear properly. The Veil has…been weakened here, but not as badly as in other areas.” She paused, let her will drift out towards the glowing mass, the rain dripping off the tip of her small nose as she listened to her will, her damp hair matted and clinging to the sides of her delicate face. “I can…sense…other beings, wanting to get through…I cannot say what they are, or what their intentions are. I can only know that they’re there.”

She turned, putting her back to the apparition, her lithe form faintly silhouetted by the soft glow, her staff in hand and the blade planted firmly in the ground. “I recommend we avoid getting closer to it, lest we accidentally set it off,” she offered, fully expecting Disa to chide her or denigrate her or ignore her.

Garret, not having a clue what the girl was talking about, nodded his agreement. “I’m all for avoiding it, if it means we don’t disturb it,” he offered. He was trying hard to not appear to side with Loriel in case doing so annoyed Disa, but at the same time he didn’t particularly want to go near things that might summon demons and spirits. “Perhaps Loriel is right, Disa – after all, she was right about the corpses and the water.”
 
Disa listened as the elf spoke about the Veil, things remaining close to it, and all of the mage mage babble that he'd expected to hear. Garret, a Maker fearing man if there ever was one, agreed with her, making a fair point about the corpses. The hunter snorted.
"As did Disa. As did I, once they started after us. A slow gong farmer could have figured that out." He sneered. Disa fixed him with an impassive stare.
"Well, that doesn't speak well for you, does it?" The Chasind asked. The hunter flushed, some anger, and more than a small amount of disappointment in his own error. He'd thought himself the equal to any in this company, but so far the Efl had been showing more use than he was, adn that was something he wasn't prepared to bear in the long term.

"We swing wide." Disa said with finality.
"But sir!" The hunter started, but Disa cut him off.
"Have you any knowledge of the Veil, other what teh Chantry tells you?" He asked. When the hunter didn't answer, Disa continued. "Have whatever issue you want with the elf, for her being a knife ear, or a spellbind, but she's been Harrowed. She's been through the Veil. So until someone else comes along with more information on it than she has, we'll be taking her advice into consideration." Garret nodded at the words. Still not friendly, but they weren't dismissive of Loriel's experience either. Disa resumed speaking. "Just so long as she can keep it short and not drown us in robe babbling. Let's get moving again." He turned and started off again.

THey gave the rift a wide berth once it was in sight, the rippling and otherworldly glowing casting a wide array of light along the ground. Nothing was around it, not the dead, not demons, nothing. Disa started to wonder if it might have been easier to just pass by it, but that wasn't something he wanted to entertain right now. He needed to keep everyone moving quickly. The land spread out, widening out on either side. They could keep going straight, or change direction. He didn't hesitate, but turned them to the east. Penetrating deeply into unknown territory was all fine and good, right up until they were cut off or flanked by things that came from areas off to the flanks that hadn't been properly scouted or investigated.

Great slabs of stone rose out of the ground, making a natural wall that were impressive to say the least. There was the thought of trying to send the mage or the hunter up those rocks, but the more Disa thought about it, the more it seemed like a bad idea. Anyone up there would present a fine target for the bow armed foes they might face. The progress was slow, methodical, careful, and from the way teh temperature was starting to fall, Disa had every thought that the days was waning fast. They came to a wider area, sprad out nicely, adn Disa had the thought that stopping might not be bad. From the look of it, it was also very likely that a forward support camp might be able to be established here, once it was deemed properly secure. Int he meantime...
"Make something of camp here. We'll stop here for food, some rest, and get moving again soon enough." Disa ordered.
 
Fenedhis this team was so frustrating to work with! Loriel hadn’t expected much from the other hunter – whose name she still didn’t know – but Disa’s acceptance of her suggestion was so filled with disdain for the suggestion’s speaker that he may as well have just openly insulted her. Which he just had. Garret, she noticed out of the corner of her eye, at least looked slightly uncomfortable with the bile being levelled at the young mage by the other two in their group, although the scout didn’t say anything that might jeopardise his own position in the little party. Small mercies, she supposed.

As they swung wide of the pseudo-rift, Loriel felt her will drawn to it slightly. She could feel the weakening of the Veil, could feel the presence of other beings beyond it…at least that feeling faded as they put distance between themselves and it, and finally she felt nothing at all from it. She was curious to note that she was more aware of its presence after they’d encountered it than she had been before they knew it was there – as if her eyes drew her will to it. She was happy to note that her thought had played out; by avoiding the rift, they didn’t encounter anything that might spawn from it. They somehow also managed to avoid further encounters with walking corpses, for which Loriel was grateful – she had no desire to get into another fight, although she also recognised knew that fighting was going to be inevitable.

She was very aware of her annoyance slowly turning to anger as they moved along the semi-road. Garret seemed aware of it and gave her space; he didn’t attempt to engage her in conversation, possibly out of a desire to not have her anger spill out in the form of hostile magic. That was fine by Loriel – she was content to stew in silence, to try and work her annoyances out without the need to resort to outburst of any kind. But it wasn’t working, she knew that much: instead of working her annoyance down to a more-manageable level, she instead felt it grow. Every time she thought of Disa or the other hunter, she heard their insults, their dismissiveness towards her, she felt their disdain for her as both an elf and a mage, she knew in their eyes she was a lesser person and always would be…she could feel the fire slowly burn within her. She had to find a way to contain her anger before it became dangerous.

When they made camp, Loriel kept out of the way for the most part. She wasn’t skilled in the tricks of making camp. She knew the theory of many things, but not the practice. She’d spent all of her life, before the last few weeks, in a circle tower, and her outdoors experience was very limited at best. Still, she watched the hunter slowly build a fire-pit with damp wood and struggle to light it; she amused herself by sending a touch of mana towards the carefully-constructed pile of sticks and twigs, causing the tinder to spark and light with a small flame. The hunter didn’t seem to appreciate her assistance, going by the sneer on his face, but she didn’t care: he was going to hate her anyway, so she may as well get something out of it. The amusement was short-lived, though, as it faded to be replaced by that annoyance…no, anger…she felt when reflecting who she’d been teamed up with. She decided to have a chat with Disa, who looked to be visually inspecting their surroundings, as if trying to determine what lay before them.

“I get it,” she opened in a low voice, her annoyance obvious in both her posture and tone. “You don’t like me. You have no regard for me as a mage, and less because I’m Dalish. If it’s any consolation, I don’t like you either. As soon as we get back I’m going to tell Harding to take me off this…’team’. I want no part of you or your attitudes.” To an observer, she might have looked comical, standing next to Disa: he towered over her, was more solidly-built than her, his sword was almost as tall as she was, her robe was soaked and clinging limply to her frame, her hair was dangling wetly around her face and shoulders…there was no way she’d be considered a threat to him. She didn’t care. All she knew, as she brought up a hand to remove the water droplets from her delicate face, was the anger and frustration she wasn’t able to get out of her system.

Garret looked quizzically at the two as they talked. He was content, for his own part, to stay out of it as much as he could, and chose to at least act as though he was looking for possible food sources…in the Mire, there didn’t seem to be too many options. He knew Loriel was getting increasingly frustrated, it didn’t take a genius to work that out; but he was again amazed that she’d dare to confront Disa directly over it…or at least, he assumed she was. He doubted Disa would do anything directly to the young mage, as that would look bad, but still… He didn’t know. Best to do his job and stay out of a direct confrontation with the sergeant. He offered a small prayer to the Maker that Loriel could find something to prove her worth beyond any doubt Disa might concoct.
 
Disa set about quickly pitching a tent. It had been rolled tightly, and the material was well oiled and treated. It had been with him since he'd left the Korcari Wilds, adn that meant that it was used to exactly this sort of weather. His only regret was that he was so close to the ground, but there was nothing for that. No way to raise any kind of platform or the like safely or practically. Besides, as close as this place was to the WEilds, it wasn't home. Not really. He saw the hunter struggling with the fire, and Disa actually smiled. With the dampness of the wood, there was no way he'd manage to get it to-

He froze as there was a minor surge of magic in the site, and the fire flared to life, the wood forcibly drying under the influence of hte magic, the flame not large, but it was steady, and burning. More than he'd expected really. The darkness and the rain was going to keep the smoke well concealed at this point, and they could use some of the stones nearby to build an appropriate fire pit to keep the light down from the flames. Disa would leave that to Garret adn the Hunter, Garret at least he trusted to know what he was doing in that regard. Disa took better stock of hte area, sitting under a low awning of his tent to scribe what they'd found thus far onto his map. As Loriel started heading for him, he stowed the map, adn stood up, not wanting to be on the ground when she spoke. It was a matter of respect to him actually.

Disa listened to her words, and shook his head slowly. He let out a sigh.
"No elf, you really don't get it." He said flatly. "First of all. When you make your case to Hardin, I've no doubt she'll oblige you and pull you off the team. And then right out of the Scouting units completely. I imagine there's a nice warm support job in Haven for a mage of your skill set. Why you were assigned to field operations, I don't know. Either Harding just wanted mages on her teams, or we're just that short on people. But if it were up to me, you wouldn't be in the field without another two months of hard training, training that wouldn't allow the use of your magics at all. But it wasn't." he let that sink a moment before he continued speaking.

"Secondly, I had specifically requested a soldier for my team, one of the veterans that had yet to be assigned. Instead I got a Robe that is green as grass. You might see the difference there, and why gettign stuck with you assigned here would be an annoyance to me." He shook his head at that, the assignment still rankled him, but he had a few other thigns that needed saying. "And do you really think rushing to Harding to complain that the people you're working are unpleasant to you would gain you much traction? This isn't a Dalish patrol, where they send friends and family together. You joined an army girl, what you want is no longer important. What is expected of you, that is what matters. Halam'shivanas is all that remains for one such as you right now." Teh elven words still flowed from his mouth, accented, yes, but enunciated precisely. It wasn't something that Disa was simply throwing out, he seemed to know the language well enough.

"That anger you hold onto? Ma banal las halamshir var vhen with it. Anger without purpose is just noise and distraction. Find something to accomplish with that anger, and you'll be better off. The fire is a fine thing, we could all use a hot meal this night. Now pitch a tent and settle in Spellbind. You'll need the rest." Disa told her, turning away from her, seeing that Garret was scrupulously not getting involved, helping the Hunter build a fire pit with higher than average walls made out of the scattered stone fromt eh clearing. It would keep the light hidden from the approach they'd taken, and their backs were to a rock bluff. It was as safe as they could make it, and the fire was growing steadily as the hunter tried to get it built up enough to actually cook something on.
 
All that should matter to her was duty? Her anger did not benefit their people? He might be a veteran soldier, but she was not. He might think he’d had it tough, fighting during the Blight, but her life hadn’t been a bed of roses, either. And just who was he referring to when he said “their people”? The Dalish benefitted greatly from their anger and the caution they extracted from it, and there was no way she’d accept him including himself amongst “her people”. She knew she’d have to try and keep her anger under control as much as possible; if she didn’t, Disa would pick up on it and press her further, deliberately fuel the anger at every turn.

“People like you are the reason there still exists anger between my people and yours,” he hissed, deliberately putting the infection on the difference between them. He’d probably ignore it. “You’re not the only one here who had a bad time during the Blight. While you were fighting, I was girl of nine hiding in fear in a tower filled with abominations, just trying to stay alive.” She paused, drew in a slow breath in some vain attempt to calm her highly-agitated nerves. “Dirthara-ma. Tel garas solasan.” She didn’t wait for a response from him; instead she turned sharply on her heel and strode away from him.

She didn’t have a tent to pitch for herself; her entire kit, such as it was, consisted of her staff, her clothes, a couple of lyrium potions, and a couple of bags of trail rations. She didn’t have the strength to carry much more. She knew the drizzle would continue to keep her cold and wet, and that her health would likely suffer for it in the long term, but right now there was little else she could do. Her feet carried her away from the camp a short distance – not so far that she couldn’t be seen, but far enough that the camp was no longer foremost in her mind. She became aware, after a few seconds, that Garret had stepped to be next to her, if a few paces away.

“He thinks I had it easy,” she murmured, the anger only restrained for the moment.

“I’m not sure that’s entirely accurate, Loriel,” Garret attempted soothingly. He had no idea if it would help, but he knew he had to try.

For a moment, the young elf didn’t respond. Her eyes had found a lone walking corpse a short distance away, aimlessly wandering a path that would bring it nowhere near them. “I was cast out of my clan when I was eight, Garret,” she offered quietly. “I was one more wielder of magic than the clan could bear, so they cast me out. Templars found me and took me to the Fereldan tower a few weeks later. I was there, in the Circle Tower, during the Blight, a girl of nine hiding from abominations and demons, saved only by the Hero of Ferelden.”

Garret nodded slowly but said nothing. He’d heard that the Tower had been hit hard during the Blight, but knew virtually nothing of the details. Hearing that she’d been cast of her clan at such a young age…he started to get a small appreciation for the girl next to him.

“I’ve been locked up and shunned almost my whole life,” she continued, her anger rising again, obvious in her voice as she spoke. “Because I’m a mage, because I’m an elf, because I’m Dalish…pick one. Sometimes all three. Being always watched by Templars who are just looking for a reason to kill you because you might become an abomination. Disa thinks he’s done it hard? He doesn’t know hardship.” Thinking of their sergeant made her blood boil, and she felt the helpless rage swell suddenly within her.

Garret, having listened with some sympathy and realising that there was possibly a lot more to this girl than any of them knew, heard the anger as well, but he noticed something else…and it gave him pause. He took a nervous step away from the girl, and another… “Ummm…Loriel…? Your hand…”

Loriel looked down to see that her right hand, that had curled into a fist as she’d spoken, was now encased in gentle flame. That only brought up another memory that caused her pain – being shunned and reviled by humans who saw a scared and hungry little girl, but who wouldn’t look past the girl’s ears.

“I hate this magic!” she cried out suddenly, her eyes brimming with tears of shame and rage. “Din’anshiral!”

In a sudden gesture – what drove her to do so, Loriel would never know or understand – she threw her hand in the direction of the walking corpse. She logically knew her hand wouldn’t be parted from her body so easily, but the gesture was made, and at the same time she was willing the flame to be gone. In an instant, she recognised something different was happening – she felt a shifting of mana, felt her will focus slightly towards the corpse, and then her hand was empty…a split second later the corpse erupted in flame. If the corpse was capable of surprise, it might have been so, but it would still have been less surprised by the turn of events than Loriel. Still aflame, the corpse turned towards where Loriel was standing, began to shamble towards her, but didn’t make more than a few steps before the mana-powered fire brought it down and consumed it.

Loriel looked, stunned, first at her hand, then at the still-smoking corpse, then back at her hand, her eyes wide with surprise and fear. She’d done it, she knew…and she knew how. She had no words for that moment.

Garret had no words, either, for what he’d just witnessed. He knew mages could do such things, of course, but having actually seen a mage do it, especially such an act done apparently accidentally…he was no longer sure whether to feel sympathetic towards Loriel or fearful of her. This was a mage who was not under control of the Chantry, and there were no Templars nearby if the young mage got out of hand… Maybe he should let Disa know what had just happened…
 
The small fire could not possibly make the sound that came to Disa's ears. The crackling of fire, real fire, came to him quickly. His head turned, seeing the smoke rising from a patch of water, likely showing that something had just gone up. Disa had his flatblade in his hand and began to stalk towards the location, the hunter falling into place near him. It didn't take more than a moment before Disa coudl see Garret standing a short distance from Loriel. Disa flicked his eyes from the elf tot he corpse, and then back.
"Sir!" Garret said as loud as he dared in this place. Disa didn't respond, leaving his gaze on Loriel.

"Seems you're learning something useful Mageling." He said to her, his voice flat. He turned to look at Garret. "You have first watch. Keep a close eye on the perimeter. Mageling, use his tent while he's on watch, you'll need the rest if you're going to start showing combat magic potential. Get to it people." Disa turned away, his flatblade going to the hooks on his back. THe hutner spoke as they started to walk away.

"Sir, she's dangerous now! A mage learning power on the fly, away from the circle!" The man protested.
"The cirlces have been dissolved, what do you expect? Besides, there is more to magic than what the Chant of Light teaches." Disa said, his voice carrying clearly across the distance, enough to make Garret cock his head in curiosity. He'd expected outrage, fear, even threats to Loriel. Not this kind of calm ambivalence.
"But sir-"
"I'm a Chasind Wilder. How many of our shamans do you think studied at the circle? And some of them were mroe than a match for the Templars that came to try and hunt them down. The world is a different place now. You are a soldier of the Inquisition now, and she is rapidly looking like she might be the same. So get your head in the game, and get used to having someone else be on fire support detail. We've a lot of ground to cover soon, get some rest." Disa strode farther away from the hunter to reach his tent. He drove his flatbalde intot he loamy soil, deep enough to leave it upright, but not so deep it'd be a problem to get free. There was still some caution in his actions. As Disa lay down to rest, he fought memories, thigns that he had been setting aside for a long time. Not the time to dwell on them. He let himself doze, gaingin what rest he could while leaving himself aware enough to respond to a shout alarm.

Garret hesitated beside Loriel. He could hear Disa, of all thigns, defending Loriel's magic. The sergeant was hard to pin down sometimes. But if Disa was taking it in stride, then how could he not?
"He might be wrong about a lot of thigns, but he's right about you needing some rest. So use my tent, someone might as well while I'm keeping an eye on things." He offered her with a little encouragement in his tone. He was uneasy about her finding her magic with this much anger. If she kept at it, where woudl she end up? What kind of mage would she be? And how long would she remain...herself? Garret had always been told that emotional control was the key to a mage keeping themselves safe, wild emotion might bring demons, and that would lead to an abomination. And Loriel had stated she'd been in a tower that had harboured many abominations before it was brought to safety by the Warden Commander of Ferelden. Did that mean she was more susceptible to it? Was she a greater risk? He didn't know. He had to think this through. But in the meantime, he knew that distancing himself from her wasn't going to be helpful. At least if anything remained of her mind when she turned, she might recall that he;d shown her nothing but kindness. It was a slender hope but it was all he had right now.
 
It was all happening too fast…she was having trouble keeping up with the rapid progression of events, events that were, in themselves, minor, but all linked together to provide a chain she couldn’t keep up with.

The young mage was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she’d actually produced a spell that would qualify as being useful in a fight. At the same time she realised that Garret’s stance had become…almost defensive, and she figured she knew why. Disa was offering something that might pass for approval at her new-found magic. The other hunter – whose name she still didn’t know – was protesting at her magic and the lack of chantry or Templar support. Disa was almost defending her against the hunter. Disa was telling her to rest in Garret’s tent, at least while Garret was on watch. Garret was trying to help her settle…a little, at least. Would she have to take watch? Maybe she would. Disa hasn’t said anything about that, but she had to accept he might ask her to do so.

She flicked a quick glance to Garret and nodded slightly.

“Thank you, Garret,” she replied sincerely. Would she have to move when Garret’s time on watch ended? Would they share the tent? What would that mean if they did share his tent? None of that really mattered now. For now, Disa and the hunter had retreated to their own tents, leaving just her and Garret standing in the drizzling rain. But she knew she had to address his concerns, if she could.

“You’re worried about what this means, my finding a strong spell,” she offered quietly. The scout flushed faintly, but otherwise said nothing, and Loriel pushed on. “I’ve seen that look before – a long time ago, true, but it’s not a look I’m going to forget. Here I am, a slip of an elf-girl wielding magic that can kill quickly. How dangerous am I? How much more dangerous am I now that the circles are dissolved and I’m free to choose my own path? Will I know if a demon tries to take me over?” She gave a rueful smile as the two made their way towards what was, clearly, Garret’s tent. The scout coughed softly.

“Well, I…yes, but…well, you have to admit-“

“I know my own strength, Garret,” she interrupted, her voice gentle yet firm. “I’ve been through The Harrowing. Few outside the Circles know what that means. If I tell you…would you like to know?”

Garret nodded, not sure what any other response but ‘yes’ might mean.

“The Harrowing is a test that all mages face – or at least used to,” Loriel explained. “Well, not all mages – those who are deemed to be not strong enough to face it are made Tranquil instead. Those who undertake the Harrowing, though…” She paused, then sighed softly. “We are sent into the Fade, just us and our will, to face and survive an encounter with a demon. If we fail, or take too long such that we might fail, the Templars kill us. Surviving our Harrowing means that we faced a demon and defeated it, or at least prevented it from defeating us. That I survived means I had the strength to prevail against the demon I encountered. I can say…the entire ritual was a rather unpleasant experience, and knowing that failure meant death…” She sighed softly.

“That…I had no idea,” Garret admitted quietly as he pulled the tent open and watched the young mage crawl in. Walking with Loriel was proving to be an eye-opening experience in ways he hadn’t thought of...even though his fears hadn’t been completely mollified but her explanation. Still, it was good to know that she at proved her strength. Maybe the Maker had put Loriel with their team to help them understand what it was that mages went through.

Loriel smiled faintly in response. “Few do,” she agreed, looking up at him from the floor of the tent. “Thank you for your conversation and company, Garret. So far…you’re the only person I know that I could consider a friend.”

The scout smiled, a hint of embarrassment on his features. “Well…I just…” He really had no idea where he was going with his comment. “You’re welcome, Loriel.” He let the tent close, the material obscuring her from his sight. “Get some rest.”

“I will,” the slightly-muffled voice of the mage replied.

Garret walked away from the tent, found a small outcropping of rock not far from their camp. He climbed the rock and perched on it, the slightly-higher vantage point giving him a better view of their tents and his surroundings…he’d be able to see if something approached them. His mind drifted slightly, and he thought on what Loriel had told him. The Maker worked in strange ways, for sure. He believed fully in the Maker and the teachings of Andraste, but…had the Chantry of today gotten it right in their treatment of mages? Hearing Loriel speak, he wasn’t so sure any more. Maybe this was all a test of faith by the Maker.

It suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea where he was going to sleep when he was relieved of watch.
 
Disa slept lightly, resting but not letting himself drift far enough away in mind to let himself be taken off guard if needed. It was a soldiers sleep. Barbarian he might be, he'd served in battle too many times to break this particular habit. He roused himself after four hours or so, and crawled from his tent, back into the constant drizzle. He plucked his flatbalde from the soil, and looked about the camp. The hunter was out, snoring away. He could make out the small form of Loriel in Garret's tent, so he kenw that at least his orders were being followed. He spot Garret up a rock bluff, and set about climbing up to meet him.

"Anything?" Disa asked as he crouched beside the other man. Garret nodded.
"Corpses in the water, they've stayed back though. Damndest thing though sir, I feel..." Garret trailed off.
"Like we're being watched." Disa finished.
"Yes sir. I can't say why, or if we are, by what. But I can't shake the feeling."
"You're not wrong. The signs are here and there. We're not alone out here."
"Demons?"
"No, nothing so simple Garret. Men. Men like me I should think. The Avvar have been known to frequent this region. There's good money that they're out there. Likely been waiting to see if we would leave someone on watch. If not they might have come after us as we rested."

"What do we do sir?" Garret asked, concerned now.
"The job. We move on. If the Gods are generous, we do it without interference. If they are not, we fight. Get some rest. Use my tent. I'll take the last of the watch. Let the others know where I am if they wake before we move out." Garret nodded, and started to climb down the bluff.

Disa shrugged his cloak around himself, making a smaller, harder to see target on the bluff, staring out intot he drizzle. Here and there he made out movement. The slow, erratic movement of the corpses. But now and then he saw the smooth, careful motions of something else. And what was more, there were more of them than he expected. Over the next few hours, he could tell they were getting closer. He nodded. No time to waste then.

Disa slid down the bluff, landing lightly, and ghosting to his tent. He covered Garret's mouth, waking the man with a start. Disa held a hand to his lips, shushing him.
"They're coming. Get the hunter up. We have to move, now." Disa whispered. Garret nodded, adn the two men split up. Disa hesitated at the tent Loriel was in. Waking a mage suddenly was a risky thing to do, but so was not waking her in this circumstance. He leaned into the tent, heedless of how it might look as he clamped a hand on her mouth to keep her quiet. As she woke, he held the finger to his lips, the urge to stay quiet. He paused a moment, listening. He could hear faint steps coming closer. They only had minutes at most. "We have to go. Enemies coming. On your feet mageling, there's work to be done." He whispered to her after a moment, and then withdrew his hand, and got out of the tent. He'd ahve liked to break the tens down, salvage the supplies, but there just wasn't time. They might, might be abel to escape without a fight if they left quickly. But Disa wasn't going to dissapoint these men if they caught them. He'd make sure they got a fight.
 
How long had she slept? Loriel had no idea. She even felt it was a near-restful sleep, too, other than her body creaking a little as she began to stir. Her mind felt refreshed, mostly, but her body was aching lightly. She wasn’t used to sleeping on the ground, even with a bedroll…it was one more thing she’d have to try and adjust to. She was slowly becoming aware of a presence near her, but her mind was still waking…

…and then a hand was clamped firmly over her mouth, starting her too quickly to full wakefulness. In a panic borne of fogginess she struggled to move, to sit, and a much-muffled squeal sounded from the back of her throat…but as her eyes adjusted to the dim light she recognised Disa, and it was apparently his hand over her mouth. He was…indicating for her to be silent. She understood, nodded slowly as her heart slowly settled. Then he spoke, a quiet voice, and her heart began pounding again as she digested his words. They were likely to be attacked, and soon. There was need for haste. She nodded again, and he removed his hand from her mouth. She reached over, took her staff in her hand, felt the grip suddenly become reassuring in her grasp. Fortunately, she travelled light. But what of their tents, their gear? They’d not be leaving it all behind, surely?

Disa was gone, moving to find a hopeful safe path. Loriel was out of the tent a few seconds later. She had her staff in her hand and her bag of nuts in her pockets…that was it. Garret was near her, gesturing towards Disa. The other hunter was already moving as well.

“Come, Loriel,” the man whispered hoarsely to the young mage. “Quickly. We may not have much time. Leave the tents. If we have time and good fortune, we’ll come back for them.” The young mage nodded her understanding and followed the scout without word. Her hand tightly gripped the shaft of her staff as she followed the scout closely, trying to make her feet do as his did without a whole lot of success.

Were her eyes playing tricks on her? She was sure she could see shadows moving near them, as if they were closing on them, gaining on them. They weren’t corpses – too smooth and precise in their movements. They looked like…men, perhaps, but there was no-one else out here, so they’d been told. Chasind, perhaps? Maybe not; if so, Disa would have seen the signs and acted accordingly. Her knowledge of the area was limited to books, not-always complete books at that…Avvar, maybe? The idea didn’t sit well with her, although the Avvar were written to be reclusive and polite – mostly.

Then she saw the glint of light on steel, a faint shimmer in the half-light of the very-early morning…and she knew their time was up. Garret was aware, too, and the pair reacted almost simultaneously.

“Attack!” Loriel cried out, even as she was drawing on her will. It was possibly the stupidest thing she could have said at that moment, but it was the first word that came out of her mouth that might have held any meaning to this exact point in time. Then a faint thump sounded as her magical barrier settled on the foursome, surrounding them and protecting them for a short time. Garret’s daggers were drawn as he took a defensive posture. It wasn’t going to be enough, she knew, so she tried the only thing she could, even though she had no idea if it would actually work as she hoped. The soft, spongy ground grabbed at her boots as she shuffled her feet to get a better stance.

A small explosion of magical fire erupted in the place she’d seen the glint of steel, catching two men in its blast, and the air was quickly permeated by the smell of burning flesh…
 
They were going as fast as they could, Disa knew it. But it still rankled him at their pace. he knew that he could lose the pursuers, but not with the team with him. If nothing else, Loriel was not trained for this kind of thing. Frankly, Disa was more willing to trust her elven nature than he was to trust their archer. The man had made far too many mistakes on this mission. He heard Loriel shout, and then there was that familiar tingle as her barrier enfolded him.

Then came the blast of fire.

It was good to know that she hadn't fluked out making that spell work before. But now it was time to do what he could to help resolve this. If they were pursued by only a few then this might be over quickly. But Disa knew it wasn'ty likely. Avvar didn't usually engage without very good odds in their favour. The moment a form showed up int he mists, away from the fire, an arrow slammed into it. If nothing else, Disa would have to trust the aim of his archer.
"Cover me!" He roared, his flatblade swinging free in his hand, and he burst forward.

Disa was a large man, but when he charged over the soft ground he was all but a metallic clad blur, moving far faster than someone his size had any business going. He passed beside another form, adn his sword ripped up. Blood misted in the air, and the man came apart at the waist. Garret moved to help hi, but Disa barked out a word in his native laguage, one that he'd trained Garret for. It was a simple one.

Stay.

Garret knew that Disa was the forward party, and that it was going to be up to the rogue to keep Loriel casting. The glint of metal came in the mists, and Garret threw himself to one side, deftly avoiding the incoming throwing axes. Disa was far enough into the fight that Garret couldn't make him out clearly in the mists. All he could see were forms coming close to him, and the dull thump of his sword striking flesh. If they lived through this, Garret was asking why the sound never sounded metallic. There was a snapping sound, and he felt the breeze on his skin, showing that the barrier had fallen.
"Keep him protected!" Garret told Loriel, and stepped forward as a pair of figures passed the mist shrouded brawl to come at the others. Garret was a quick man, light on his feet, and dodged the swing of an axe and ripped a fast wound along the arm of his attacker, before dodging to the other and slashing a wound along his leg and another on his face, sending the man reeling. Another warrior came for him, and then he couldn't keep track of them properly, all he could do was keep them busy and stay alive.

Disa felt another blade glance off the barrier, adn he used that chance to take his foe's head off. The severed head spun in the air, and Disa seized the hair of the head and tossed it at the oncoming foes. He could see corpses around him, at least four, but there just seemed to be more coming all the time. The barrier fell from him, and he swung his forearm into the path of another blade aimed at his head. Sparks flew as the well forged Paragon's Luster of his armour defeated the swing of the much cruder iron of the attack. The light from those sparks gave him an instant to size up his foe, and get a better count. It was definitely Avvar, and there were more coming at them. Always there seemed more. He'd been controlled, he'd been mindful of his responsibilities. But now there only one choice left.

Disa let himself go.

Garret backed away from his next foe, drawing him away from Loriel, and the hunter repayed the move by sending an arrow intot he ear of the attacker. Garret heard a humming sound, like a weapon at speed, and saw a pair of split bodies fall to the ground near Disa. A bellowing roar split the air, loud and almost inhuman, like some kind of mixture of beast and man. Disa stood alone, his head thrown back, all but howling at the sky, and the Avvar paused in their advance. When Disa moved again, it was withotu any of the precise strikes that Garret had gotten used to seeing. There was somethign wild, something all together savage about his assault. Garret did know what he was seeing.
"Berserker...."
 
One of the burning forms never made it to their little group; the other got half-way, maybe. Loriel was watching, but only to pay attention enough to know where to attack next. At Disa’s roar, the mageling’s staff had started swinging, sending angry bolts of electricity humming towards her intended targets. Once again the staff proved a curious object – capable of sending energy unerringly at the target designated by the wielder, never missing, never doing large amounts of damage, always doing damage enough to cause injury…and death, after a few successful strikes. It was times like this she liked being a mage…until the battle came to her.

Garret was doing his best to stay near her, she knew. She was only vaguely aware of his proximity, in truth. She had a rough idea where their sergeant was, too; she had no idea where their hunter was. She could only guess the man had remained close to the rest of them. So far no Avvar had closed to her, but she knew that wouldn’t remain that way for long. Sooner or later she’d become a direct target.

She felt the pattern for the fire-spell – Immolate, she knew the common name to be – replenish in her mind, and she pushed her will out again, causing another explosion in the midst of a group of Avvar who were milling around between Disa and Garret, trying to position themselves to better attack. The burst of fire in their midst sent them into momentary disarray; she could tell from the cries of pain and discomfort from seared flesh and burning clothes. But…they just didn’t stop coming. She knew she’d managed to drop a couple of Avvar herself, but there were always more of them.

Garret told her to cover Disa. She nodded that she would, but she couldn’t just yet – the pattern for the spell hadn’t replenished in her mind. It took time for spell patterns to refresh in her mind after being expended, and that time wasn’t fixed – some patterns refreshed quicker than others. She also had to be mindful of how much she pushed her will and reserves; if she pushed too hard she’d become exhausted, and then she’d be no good to anyone. It was a curious relationship, that between mage and staff and will and Fade – to Loriel, it seemed that while casting a spell expended a spell pattern and drew from her reserves of will, each use of her staff encouraged both pattern and will to replenish. No mage even pretended to fully understand how it worked, but no mage denied that it did.

She felt the pattern for the barrier spell finally replenish and she quickly drew on her will to refuel it. She could catch herself and Disa and Garret in its area…but she didn’t know where the hunter was to know to include him. As she felt the tingle on her skin to let her know she was again protected, she had no idea whether the hunter was also protected. It was annoying that a barrier could ward off swords and spells and arrows, but not rain.

“There’s so many…!” she called out as she sent another chain of energy bolts flying from her staff at an approaching Avvar warrior, dropping the man just before he could position himself to flank Garret. A few moments later and another burst of fire erupted near the rear of the Avvar ranks, causing another to yell in pain as his hide armour caught alight and began burning.
 
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