Soundtrack:

Heart of the Forest ~ Jeremy Soule

I crouched down and studied the tracks.

"How exactly are we supposed to find a people that have perfected hiding to an art?" Leliana asked for the hundredth time.

Alistair sighed. "For starters, we have one of those people who have perfected hiding to an art tracking them."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here. I can hear you," I said.

Wynne chuckled. "Is this your clan that your tracking?" she asked.

"My clan is farther north. They had packed up camp shortly after I left."

"Then who's clan is this?"

I shook my head. "I won't know until we find them and speak to the Keeper." I stood. "The halla tracks lead this way." I lead the way, keeping an eye out for the signs of the camp. When we drew closer to the camp, a woman I recognized as a Hunter called Mithra approached us. She recognized me as Dalish right away.

"Andaran atish'an, ma falon," she greeted. "You have come a long way. I give you the welcome of our clan." I touched my forehead, a greeting among Hunters, to which she returned. She looked at the other suspiciously. "These are curious companions you have. Might I ask the purpose of your visit?"

"I have come on behalf of the Grey Wardens, lethallan," I replied. I had no worry of Loghian's men being here or of his spies finding their way to the Dalish. They would have run them off faster than you could blink. And tales about us kept humans at bay mostly anyway.

"The Grey Wardens? You... have joined their ranks?" She sounded surprised that a Dalish would be a Grey Warden. Or would be in the company of humans for that matter. "How unusual! Excuse my surprise. I will take you to the Keeper right away." She turned and led us to the camp.

"Stay close," I said. "Especially you four." I motioned to Alistair, Leliana, Morrigan, and Wynne. "Dalish are not trusting of humans. For good reason."

Mithra led us to the clan's Keeper, whom I knew. Zathrian looked the same as he had four years ago at the Arlathvhen, the gathering of the clans. The Arlathvhen was every ten years, where the Keepers would share what lore about the Elves they had gathered and the clans would mingle with each other share news and gossip for a few days. It was said that Zathrian had rediscovered the immortality of our ancestors, which I halfway believed. He was old when my grandparents were children.

He turned to us when we approached. "I see we have a guest," he said. "And one of our own, no less."

"She is from one of our sister clans to the north, Keeper, but claims to have become on behalf of the Grey Wardens."

Zathrian's eyebrows rose. "The Grey Wardens? How unusual that one of our own should join their ranks. How did such a thing occur?" The clans did not have contact with one another save for the Arlathvhen and in times of war, which was rare. Although the clans had stayed in contact during the war against Orlais. And Alerion Clan usually kept in close contact with Sabrae.

"It's a long story. Perhaps another time?" Which meant I didn't want to tell him at the moment.

"Perhaps so. At the moment, I'm afraid I have little time to spare for long tales." He turned to Mithra. "Thank you, Mithra. You may return to your post."

"Ma nuvenin, Keeper." She left and Zathrian turned back to me.

"Perhaps we should introduce ourselves. I am Zathrian, Keeper and Hahran of this clan. You are?" I wasn't surprised that he didn't recognize me.

"I am Realin."

"Realin? Ainnileas Mahariel's daughter?" So he did know me.

"The same." I was praying he wouldn't mention that my father had been a Keeper. The others, save Zevran and Oghren, already knew he'd been a Mage, thanks to the Fade.

"His passing came too early. I pray he has found peace in the Beyond."

"We did not come to speak of my father and his passing, Keeper."

"If you came to brings news of the Blight in the south, it is not needed. I had already sensed its corruption. I would have taken the clan north by now had we the ability to move. Sadly, as you can see, we cannot."

"Yes, it seems like you've had your own troubles," Alistair said. "What are the odds?"

"Do not allow our troubles to burden you, though I suspect they may have an impact on your mission. I imagine you are here regarding the treaty we signed centuries ago. Unfortunately, we may not be able to live up to the promise we made. This will require some... explanation. Please follow me." He walked away and we followed him to an area where the sick were tended to. Several men and women, both Hunters and not, filled the cots here. Many cried out in agony. All looked like they had been in a war recently. "The clan came to the Brecilian Forest one month ago, as is our custom when we enter this part of Ferelden. We are always wary of the dangers in the forest but we did not expect the werewolves to be lying in wait for us."

I had heard the centuries-old tales of the werewolves of the Brecilian Forest, although I had never come across them or their tracks. But it was said the center of the forest was their home and the forest itself protected them from outsiders.

"They... ambushed us and though we drove the beasts back, much damage was done. Many of our warriors lie dying as we speak. Even with all of our magic and healing skill, we will eventually be forced to slay our brethren to prevent them from becoming beasts. The Blight's evil must be stopped but we are in no position to uphold our obligations. I am truly sorry."

"Is there no way to help your clan?"

"The affliction is a curse that runs rampant in their blood, bringing great agony and then ultimately death or a transformation into something monstrous." So the werewolf curse wasn't much different than the taint. "The only thing that could help them must come from the source of the curse itself and that...," he hesitated. "That would be no trivial task to retrieve." That was all I'd done since we began gathering the armies we needed to battle the Blight. And this was one trivial task I was willing to perform without hesitation.

"We're good at non-trivial tasks." This brought an attempted suppressed laugh from Leliana.

"Within the Brecilian Forest dwells a great wolf. We call him Witherfang. It was within him that the curse originated and through his blood that it has been spread. If he is killed and his heart brought to me, perhaps I can destroy the curse but this task has proven too dangerous for us." He motioned back to his aravel. "I sent some Hunters into the forest a week ago but they have not returned. I cannot risk any more of my clan."

"But he can risk us," Zevran muttered.

"Hush, you," Wynne said.

"You said you can 'perhaps' destroy the curse?" I asked. It was a dangerous task to be hanging on a maybe.

"There is no guarantee that this will work as I suspect but it's the only hope we have left."

"Then I'll find Witherfang for you."

"You may know this, but I must warn your companions. More than werewolves lurk in the forest. It has a history full of carnage and murder. Where there is so much death, the Veil separating the spirit realm from our own becomes thin, allowing spirits to possess things living or dead. But if you can indeed help, then I wish you luck. Go see Master Varathorn. I will instruct him to put aside some supplies for you, the kind the Hunters use. I must return to caring for my people. Creators' speed on your way."

~~~

I had known Master Varathron for most of my life. He came to our clan in between Arlathvhens sometimes. I didn't know his apprentice, though.

"What are you doing?" He was saying to the young man. "You've warped the wood completely. Did you leave it out in the rain?"

"No, Master Varathorn. I... I think I just used too much heat..."

"You're not smelting ore like a blacksmith! This is living wood! It requires patience and delicate hands, not more heat!" Before I became a Hunter, Master Varathorn and Master Ilen had both tried to convince me to become apprenticed in the bow-making craft. Varathorn had said I had delicate hands better suited to crafting than hunting. Those delicate hands were now the most dangerous in Ferelden. I mentally chuckled at the memory.

"My actions bring me sorrow."

"And so they should. Truly the art will be lost to us forever at this rate! Throw away your dead wood and start anew and I shall speak to our guest." He smiled when he saw me. "Greetings, Realin. It has been a few years since I met Master Ilen at the last Gathering. He is still hale, I hope?"

"He was fine when last I saw him, yes."

"That is good to hear. Your clan is more familiar to us than most, since we do not stray far from each other in this land. I met your father. He was once Keeper of your clan. You carry many of his features." Here I was hoping that Zathrian wouldn't reveal that, when it was Varathorn who did. I was aware of seven pairs of eyes boring into my back. Which meant I would be having to explain that. "He spoke at an Arlathvhen shortly before you were born, telling the clans that more of us need to voyage into the Shemlen world and learn their ways. He would be proud to see his daughter a Grey Warden, I think."

"I barely know anything about him, save that he was once Keeper."

"Ah yes. I understand the circumstances of his passing were... tragic. It is unpleasant to speak of such things. My apologies."

"You seem quite advanced in the old craft." I wanted to change the subject. I was sure someone was going to ask about it. Varathorn seemed to understand.

"What little of the craft I have learned has been passed onto me through generations, such is the time it has taken us to learn a fraction of what has been lost. I do not make bows as fine as Master Ilen's, perhaps, but mine have caused more than one Shemlen to drool at the thought of possessing them. There is wood that, if treated properly, is as hard as steel but far lighter. It grows only in this forest, ironbark. The Keeper has forbidden us from entering the forest to collect the wood. This means I cannot make our finest crafts for years to come."

"What if I found some ironbark for you?"

"I would be hesitant to ask it of you... but if you should come across some, I suppose there would be no harm in gathering some. You know what it looks like?"

"I do."

"And you know to harvest the bark from that has fallen off the tree from age. If you find some, bring it to me and I'll craft it for you."

"Keeper Zathrian said you could supply us with equipment."

"Yes," He walked over to a chest and opened it. "I gathered some of the equipment the Hunters use. Take a look and see if you can use anything."

~~~

We were passing near the halla pens on our way to venture into the forest when I noticed the handler had separated one from the rest of the herd.

"Leliana, have you ever seen a halla in person?" I asked.

"No," she replied. "I have heard many stories of them, though."

"Come on." We went down to the handler.

She looked up when we approached. "I was so busy attending the halla, I did not hear you coming," she said.

"I take it you're the master herder," I observed.

"I am indeed. I am Elora and it is my place to speak to the halla and care for their needs. In return, the halla guide us where we need to go."

"I noticed you separated this one from the rest of the herd."

"I fear she may have been bitten during the werewolf attack. I have tried speaking with her but she is too agitated for me to understand." The handlers had the ability to literally speak with and understand the halla. As far as I knew only the Dalish had the ability. "The curse would not affect her as it would us but it would still be lethal. And it may prove contagious to the rest of the herd, as well. I can find no wound on her but if she's truly ill, then...," Elora sighed. "Then I will have to put her out of her misery. For her sake as well as that of the others."

Tristan nudged the back of my leg. He remembered me helping him when he was sick. He seemed confident that I could help the hall.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I wasn't a handler and I didn't have the ability though.

"I don't know. Do you have any skills that might help her? If you do, I would be grateful."

I examined the halla to see if my eye might catch something Elora missed. There were no bites or other injuries.

"Well?"

"I see no injuries either."

"I am glad you attempted it, regardless."

There was one last thing I could try. I approached the halla and spoke to her in the Elven tongue. I placed my hand on her neck and continued to speak to her. I was hoping to calm her down enough for Elora to understand her.

"Yes, that's it... She's calming down! That's it, love. Be calm. Tell me what troubles you..." She paused as I continued to stroke the halla's neck. "Ah, I see. It is her life-mate that is sick, not her. He was bitten on the leg during the attack and she fears greatly for him. I did not realize another halla had been injured during the attack. This will allow me to prevent the sickness from spreading to the entire herd. Thank you. You have done my clan a great boon this day. I will always be grateful for your help."

I inclined my head. "I was glad to help."

We walked away so Elora could work.

"How did you do that?" Leliana asked. "What did you say to her?"

"I just told her to be calm and let Elora help her with what troubles her. I guess living within the forest my entire life helped me be able to get her to calm down," I answered.

"Or she knew you were Dalish."

"That's possible."

Andaran atish'an, ma falon ~ Greetings, my friend

Lethallan ~ sister

Ma nuvenin ~ As you wish