"Fond of squirming, aren't you?" Emerion asked, as the elven boy before him demonstrated the truth of the question. "You're going to need to hold still. This cut needs to be properly cleaned to avoid infection."
The boy, Vim, as he'd called himself, grudgingly agreed to remain still while the Keeper's First continued work on the back of his leg. He was nearly a teenager, a short and scruffy-haired elf, and he'd come running, or rather limping, past the physical training session hosted by Amalia at the base of the vhenadahl, the calf dripping blood every few paces behind him. Cut in a bad fall, he claimed, though the rest of him didn't look too dusty. There was probably some other explanation for it, but no one immediately pried into it.
Despite having no formal place to work, Emerion had become well known for his abilities as a healer in the Alienage. He was supremely knowledgeable in the use of nearly every kind of herb that grew around Kirkwall, and regularly made trips outside the walls to collect them. He carried poultices and other healing supplies with him most places he went. And conveniently, he knew enough of traditional healing techniques to avoid the use of magic. Elves could always make the trip to Nostariel's clinic if they required more serious care.
Ithilian didn't doubt it had lightened the Warden's load of less urgent patients considerably, which probably allowed her to focus more fully on what patients remained, or other activities she chose to undertake. He was glad for it. He hadn't spoken privately and at length with Emerion about his place in the Alienage since their scuffle in the woods, but he thought he could sense a real change in him. It had been difficult for him at first, he could clearly see, but as the months pass, he seemed to be loosening up. He'd always been excellent at making friends; Emerion was quite charismatic when he chose to be, and once the people started to see the value he had for the Alienage, they warmed up quickly to him. He was not known as a Keeper's First among them, for such a title was dangerous, implying magical abilities as it did, but they often sought him out regardless. He had a prettier face than the Alienage's other Dalish, after all.
Sitting cross-legged and relaxing in between contorting stretches, Ithilian's eyes wandered to the Alienage's entrance, where he spotted an unusual sight coming down the steps into the boundaries of their area. Templars did not often come into the Alienage, far less than even the city guard, and they had rarely shown their faces here since their numbers had been decimated by the Qunari and... other violence. Two Templars now approached, a man and a woman, each in full armor and closed helms, the way the woman walked half a step behind on the man's right indicating who was of superior rank. They did not seem to be in a great hurry.
Clearing his throat, Ithilian turned briefly to look back at Emerion. "Lethallin," he said quietly, nudging his head to the side. "Templars." Emerion's eyes flicked up from the boy's injury, settling on the two armored individuals, before he went back to his work.
"So it would seem." His reply was nonchalant, unconcerned.
Nostariel, who along with Aurora and Lia, was also present and currently taking a brief moment of respite, glanced up at the words, though they were not directed at her, exactly. Her brows furrowed together. Templars were rare this far away from the Gallows, and she had no doubt that they had been sent here for a reason. They did not simply wander in. Not if they had the first clue what they were doing. It had also, perhaps, given everyone here a sense of relative safety that even now was being quite abruptly thrown into doubt.
They wouldnāt be here for herāshe was known to be a Warden, and therefore outside their authority. That left quite a few possibilities, but two of them were sitting within sight of her at this moment. Aurora, immediately to her left, if by some unforeseen chance the Templars had caught wind of her activities with Kirkwallās other apostates, and Emerion. Both seemed to be doing a very good job of hiding who they were, butā¦ there was no way to be sure.
Nostariel didnāt take herself to have much authority here, but she was at least capable of interceding without fear of repercussions, which was something neither most elves nor most mages could say, and so she stood first, brushing herself off and raising her hand to hail down the Templars, smiling disarmingly. āSomething you need, sers?ā
If Aurora seemed nervous or otherwise anxious about the Templars entering the Alienage, she didn't show it outwardly. Instead, she regarded their presence with dull curiosity, tilting her head toward them as they descended the steps. She of course wondered what brought them from the Gallows, and knew that there was a chance that it was because of the two apostates present. However, she didn't even glance over toward Emerion, but kept her vision loosely interested in the man in front. To do anything else was to rouse suspicion, and that was the last thing she needed. Her last memory of Templars was not a fond one, but she suppressed it enough to not show on her face. When Nostariel intervened, she waited patiently for their answer.
Amalia, for her part, did very little at all. She was quite skilled at ignoring people, and unless the Templars decided their business was the hostile kind, she was content to wait it out. She was not most pleased to see them here, but that did not mean she had to make this obvious. Nostariel was better suited to handle this sort of thing than she was anyone, having doubtless a great deal more experience with the type of diplomacy required in just this sort of situation.
"Knight-Lieutenant Grath," the lead Templar said, introducing himself somewhat brusquely, though he did remove his helmet. A man in his late thirties, Grath had combed back yellow-blond hair and blue eyes, his mouth set into a hard line. "This is my partner, Knight-Corporal Swann. This is a routine patrol on the Knight-Commander's orders, nothing to be worried about." Left unsaid was the assumption that there were no apostates hiding here. Then, of course, there would be cause for worry.
Nodding, he moved on past the Warden, while the Knight-Corporal removed her helmet, revealing auburn hair pulled into a tight bun, a younger woman, probably not yet thirty, with bright hazel eyes. "Sorry about the lack of routine-ness in the routine patrol," she said, her tone a little apologetic. She kept in step with the Knight-Lieutenant, but turned to look back as she walked. "You're the Warden, right? Nostariel? I've heard a lot about you. Good things, that is. It's nice to meet you."
"Begin with these, Corporal," Grath ordered, gesturing to those working with Amalia. He tilted his head to his right. "I'll start on the West side." He moved off to his right, approaching some elves engaged in bartering for some wares. Swann seemed happy enough with the given assignment, coming to a stop before the group assembled beneath the vhenadahl.
āMy apologies for the interruption. Iām Knight-Corporal Swann, Templar Order. Weāre currently investigating the possible presence of blood magic within Kirkwall, and Knight-Commander Meredith has asked us to make a sweep of the Alienage. Weāll be out of your way as soon as possible. Now, have any of you noticed anything strange recently? Perhaps at night-time?ā Ithilian was actually a bit surprised by the politeness of her tone; the male Templar introducing himself to the other elves appeared to be taking a more direct approach.
āAnd nice to meet you as well, Knight-Corporal.ā Nostarielās smile widened a fraction, though her expression became more solemn when the reason for the visit was mentioned. Blood magic? In the Alienage? She certainly knew one person who could do that, but she had figured Emerion for much more careful than that, and so it was unlikely they were actually after him. The problem would be if their search happened to lead them to him anyway. Perhaps one of Auroraās pupils? She knew her friend wouldnāt ever condone something like that, but it wasnāt as though she had the ability to do background checks on those she was working with. If they didnāt tell her they were blood mages, there werenāt many ways to find out otherwise. āIāve neither seen nor heard of anything unusual, though I'm not here at night, most of the time.ā
āThose who live here are seldom active after dusk,ā Amalia added, meeting the Templarās eyes from her seated position. The reason for that much was rather obviousāit was unsafe to be moving about Kirkwall at night, especially if one happened also to be an elf. Or alone, or both. āI have encountered nothing unusual either.ā
On the inside, Aurora relaxed a degree. Things were less likely to go wrong if the Templars were amiable, and nothing she saw told her that they were looking for trouble. Only blood magic. Aurora raised her eyebrow for that, clearly a little surprised. No one she knew used blood magic, or at least she didn't believe they did. There was a chance that Ithilian's friend could, yes, but she didn't peg him as they type to be so open about it to rouse the Templar's suspicion. "Neither have I," Aurora agreed. "But I do hope you find them," She added, tilting her head. It wasn't a lie either, when blood magic cropped up, nothing good ever followed.
"It's as the others say," Ithilian offered from his seat. "We have seen nothing, and we here are the ones who watch over this place. We would not allow a threat to it to linger, you have our word." He knew with near certainty that Emerion practiced blood magic; most Dalish Keepers knew at least a little, and Emerion had certainly not been raised with the ideals of restraining his own power. He did, however, think his friend was smart enough not to make overt use of it while in Kirkwall. There was no guarantee that Emerion was the blood mage being sought after, or that there was any blood magic present at all.
"And a fine group of watchers they are," Emerion offered, standing up and wiping his hands. He clicked his tongue twice, gesturing for the young boy to depart, and he did so quickly, though not at a run, with his recently stitched leg. Knight-Corporal Swann watched him go with some interest, but Emerion's healing supplies were visible enough, and she paid it no further mind. "They are skilled," Emerion continued, with sincerity, "devoted, tireless in their efforts, and fairly well-loved by the people. That last part can be applied to few groups in the city, of late."
"Perhaps that's true," Swann conceded. "The Templars can be harsh, on occasion, but for Kirkwall as a whole, I do believe we're the best equipped to maintain the peace. I do hope we can do that in a way that will create cooperation from the people, though. Some of my fellow Knights are fond of kicking down doors, sadly."
A voice was raised off to their left, easily identified as the Knight-Lieutenant, Grath. Ithilian found himself standing, moving over towards the man, though Emerion was two steps ahead of him. He frowned, wishing his mage friend would choose not to get involved in this. He hadn't liked the look of the man from the start, and suspected there would be trouble. No doubt Emerion had thought the same.
"Compose yourself, woman," Grath said firmly, standing at least a foot and a half over the older elven woman he was speaking to. She was visibly shaking, her eyes thinned and threatening tears, though Ithilian hadn't seen any threats leveled. He supposed the Templar's appearance alone would seem a threat, to someone not used to seeing them around here. "You need only answer my questions, and I will move on. Silence will not work in your favor."
She then sank to her knees, looking away and terrified, while Grath turned back to see Swann already headed over, with the pair of Dalish in front of her. "If this Alienage is harboring apostates or worse, maleficarum, they must be brought forth. Giving them shelter will only make this all the more painful."
"If you are willing to give me a moment, ser," Emerion offered, his tone devoid of both fear and aggression, something that almost seemed to surprise the Knight-Lieutenant, "I believe I can help."
"You have something to say to me, elf?"
"Not to you, no." He walked past the armored man and knelt slowly beside the crumpled and sputtering woman. His tone was gentle, but strong. "Mala suledin nadas. You are capable of more than you think. This will pass, and they will go. He means you no harm." He glanced up at the taller man, with a slight grin. "Even if he does look a little grumpy. Come, stand. I will remain with you." His hand he kept on her shoulder, and the pair rose together. The woman did not look at the Templar, but she was finally able to make herself speak to him.
"N-no... I have s-seen nothing of magic h-here... messere." Grath didn't seem satisfied by the answer, but had clearly been dissuaded from pressing further.
"I did not expect a warm welcome here," he muttered to himself, before turning to Ithilian and the others. "You're the guardians of this place, then? Perhaps we can enlist your aid. Reports of apostasy and blood magic have increased over the past year, but it's too scattered to pinpoint a central location, if there is one. The Order could use assistance in rooting out these maleficarum."
"What he means to say is," Swann cut in, delicately, "we would be most appreciative if any useful information any of you uncover could be brought to the Order's attention. The Templars can stay out of your way, and no more blood magic. Everyone wins. The Templars are interested in building bridges, not burning them."
"Thank you for your understanding," Ithilian said, nodding. "We'll be sure to do that."
Satisfied, or as satisfied as they were going to get, the pair of Templars bid them farewell, and turned to leave the Alienage. When they were gone, the elven woman who had been questioned gave out a shudder, leaning into Emerion for support. He narrowed his eyes in the direction the Templars had gone.
"Two different faces. Each the same oppressor. They should not have come here."
Nostariel sighed softly, shaking her head. Templar shakedowns were the last thing the Alienage needed, it was true, but from her point of view, it was rather pointless to try and hinder them overtly. One had always to tread carefully with them, and if at all possible, not lump the reasonable in with the unreasonable. āAnd yet the best way to see less of them is to cooperate when we do. To a point, anyway.ā She certainly didnāt plan on giving up anyone who knew what they were doing, but there was little mistaking that most blood mages were a danger to themselves and others. If there really were ill-trained maleficarum hanging around the Alienage, they would make things considerably worse for everyone here, Templars or no Templars.
Her lips pursed, and she glanced over to the woman, checking her over for any sign of injury. There were none, of courseāSer Grath may have intimidated her, but he had not laid hands on her. Fortunate, for everyone involved. āAre you all right, madam? Perhaps you should sit down for a bit.ā She also wondered, for just a moment, if it was simple fear that had sealed her lips shut at first. Or if perhaps she knew something more than sheād said. Now was clearly not the time to ask, however.
"I'm... alright now. I think I'll head home. Thank you for the help." She nodded her thanks at both Nostariel and Emerion, and then made her own departure, heading deeper into the Alienage rather than out of it. Emerion watched her go for a moment, to make sure she was alright.
"Delya told me she has a history with a Templar, something to do with her son. Both are gone now. The Templar slain by the Qunari, and the son slain by the Templar while fighting for the Qunari." No more explanation was likely needed. A number of young elves had been driven to fight when the Qunari rose up, seeing some sort of chance to fight for their own place in something, even if that something was as foreign to them as the Qun.
āMany people were slain that day.ā Amalia was not completely certain what was meant by a history with a Templar, as she had learned this could have many senses, but whichever one it was, it probably wasnāt good. Histories with Templars rarely seemed to be, around here. Whatever the case, there was nothing to be done about it now. Her eyes moved to Aurora for a second, visible concern flickering over her face for a moment. There was little point telling her to be careful; she knew that very well by now. Amalia was tempted to say it anyway, but in the end, she refrained. Nostariel was safer, considering her status as a Grey Warden; Aurora had no more protection than her wits could grant herā¦ and her friends, to a point.
Aurora exhaled a sigh and rubbed at her brow. Things were becoming more complicated, but she was relieved to find that the Templars only had rumors to go on. Had they more evidence than that, then either Emerion or her wouldn't have slid by so easily. She did not want to imagine how things would've turned out if they were here for either of them. Still, the event changed some things and it reminded how careful she had to be-- especially now. Her eyes turned to Emerion for a moment before she shook her head. There were other apostates in the city, some of which may even practice blood magic for less than favorable reasons.
It caused her to think, however. Looking toward the direction the Templars left, she spoke. "I should go. There are some... things I need to see to." She turned back to her friends still gathered around and gave them a reassuring smile before landing solely on Amalia. "And don't worry. I'll be careful," She said, taking her leave.
The boy, Vim, as he'd called himself, grudgingly agreed to remain still while the Keeper's First continued work on the back of his leg. He was nearly a teenager, a short and scruffy-haired elf, and he'd come running, or rather limping, past the physical training session hosted by Amalia at the base of the vhenadahl, the calf dripping blood every few paces behind him. Cut in a bad fall, he claimed, though the rest of him didn't look too dusty. There was probably some other explanation for it, but no one immediately pried into it.
Despite having no formal place to work, Emerion had become well known for his abilities as a healer in the Alienage. He was supremely knowledgeable in the use of nearly every kind of herb that grew around Kirkwall, and regularly made trips outside the walls to collect them. He carried poultices and other healing supplies with him most places he went. And conveniently, he knew enough of traditional healing techniques to avoid the use of magic. Elves could always make the trip to Nostariel's clinic if they required more serious care.
Ithilian didn't doubt it had lightened the Warden's load of less urgent patients considerably, which probably allowed her to focus more fully on what patients remained, or other activities she chose to undertake. He was glad for it. He hadn't spoken privately and at length with Emerion about his place in the Alienage since their scuffle in the woods, but he thought he could sense a real change in him. It had been difficult for him at first, he could clearly see, but as the months pass, he seemed to be loosening up. He'd always been excellent at making friends; Emerion was quite charismatic when he chose to be, and once the people started to see the value he had for the Alienage, they warmed up quickly to him. He was not known as a Keeper's First among them, for such a title was dangerous, implying magical abilities as it did, but they often sought him out regardless. He had a prettier face than the Alienage's other Dalish, after all.
Sitting cross-legged and relaxing in between contorting stretches, Ithilian's eyes wandered to the Alienage's entrance, where he spotted an unusual sight coming down the steps into the boundaries of their area. Templars did not often come into the Alienage, far less than even the city guard, and they had rarely shown their faces here since their numbers had been decimated by the Qunari and... other violence. Two Templars now approached, a man and a woman, each in full armor and closed helms, the way the woman walked half a step behind on the man's right indicating who was of superior rank. They did not seem to be in a great hurry.
Clearing his throat, Ithilian turned briefly to look back at Emerion. "Lethallin," he said quietly, nudging his head to the side. "Templars." Emerion's eyes flicked up from the boy's injury, settling on the two armored individuals, before he went back to his work.
"So it would seem." His reply was nonchalant, unconcerned.
Nostariel, who along with Aurora and Lia, was also present and currently taking a brief moment of respite, glanced up at the words, though they were not directed at her, exactly. Her brows furrowed together. Templars were rare this far away from the Gallows, and she had no doubt that they had been sent here for a reason. They did not simply wander in. Not if they had the first clue what they were doing. It had also, perhaps, given everyone here a sense of relative safety that even now was being quite abruptly thrown into doubt.
They wouldnāt be here for herāshe was known to be a Warden, and therefore outside their authority. That left quite a few possibilities, but two of them were sitting within sight of her at this moment. Aurora, immediately to her left, if by some unforeseen chance the Templars had caught wind of her activities with Kirkwallās other apostates, and Emerion. Both seemed to be doing a very good job of hiding who they were, butā¦ there was no way to be sure.
Nostariel didnāt take herself to have much authority here, but she was at least capable of interceding without fear of repercussions, which was something neither most elves nor most mages could say, and so she stood first, brushing herself off and raising her hand to hail down the Templars, smiling disarmingly. āSomething you need, sers?ā
If Aurora seemed nervous or otherwise anxious about the Templars entering the Alienage, she didn't show it outwardly. Instead, she regarded their presence with dull curiosity, tilting her head toward them as they descended the steps. She of course wondered what brought them from the Gallows, and knew that there was a chance that it was because of the two apostates present. However, she didn't even glance over toward Emerion, but kept her vision loosely interested in the man in front. To do anything else was to rouse suspicion, and that was the last thing she needed. Her last memory of Templars was not a fond one, but she suppressed it enough to not show on her face. When Nostariel intervened, she waited patiently for their answer.
Amalia, for her part, did very little at all. She was quite skilled at ignoring people, and unless the Templars decided their business was the hostile kind, she was content to wait it out. She was not most pleased to see them here, but that did not mean she had to make this obvious. Nostariel was better suited to handle this sort of thing than she was anyone, having doubtless a great deal more experience with the type of diplomacy required in just this sort of situation.
"Knight-Lieutenant Grath," the lead Templar said, introducing himself somewhat brusquely, though he did remove his helmet. A man in his late thirties, Grath had combed back yellow-blond hair and blue eyes, his mouth set into a hard line. "This is my partner, Knight-Corporal Swann. This is a routine patrol on the Knight-Commander's orders, nothing to be worried about." Left unsaid was the assumption that there were no apostates hiding here. Then, of course, there would be cause for worry.
Nodding, he moved on past the Warden, while the Knight-Corporal removed her helmet, revealing auburn hair pulled into a tight bun, a younger woman, probably not yet thirty, with bright hazel eyes. "Sorry about the lack of routine-ness in the routine patrol," she said, her tone a little apologetic. She kept in step with the Knight-Lieutenant, but turned to look back as she walked. "You're the Warden, right? Nostariel? I've heard a lot about you. Good things, that is. It's nice to meet you."
"Begin with these, Corporal," Grath ordered, gesturing to those working with Amalia. He tilted his head to his right. "I'll start on the West side." He moved off to his right, approaching some elves engaged in bartering for some wares. Swann seemed happy enough with the given assignment, coming to a stop before the group assembled beneath the vhenadahl.
āMy apologies for the interruption. Iām Knight-Corporal Swann, Templar Order. Weāre currently investigating the possible presence of blood magic within Kirkwall, and Knight-Commander Meredith has asked us to make a sweep of the Alienage. Weāll be out of your way as soon as possible. Now, have any of you noticed anything strange recently? Perhaps at night-time?ā Ithilian was actually a bit surprised by the politeness of her tone; the male Templar introducing himself to the other elves appeared to be taking a more direct approach.
āAnd nice to meet you as well, Knight-Corporal.ā Nostarielās smile widened a fraction, though her expression became more solemn when the reason for the visit was mentioned. Blood magic? In the Alienage? She certainly knew one person who could do that, but she had figured Emerion for much more careful than that, and so it was unlikely they were actually after him. The problem would be if their search happened to lead them to him anyway. Perhaps one of Auroraās pupils? She knew her friend wouldnāt ever condone something like that, but it wasnāt as though she had the ability to do background checks on those she was working with. If they didnāt tell her they were blood mages, there werenāt many ways to find out otherwise. āIāve neither seen nor heard of anything unusual, though I'm not here at night, most of the time.ā
āThose who live here are seldom active after dusk,ā Amalia added, meeting the Templarās eyes from her seated position. The reason for that much was rather obviousāit was unsafe to be moving about Kirkwall at night, especially if one happened also to be an elf. Or alone, or both. āI have encountered nothing unusual either.ā
On the inside, Aurora relaxed a degree. Things were less likely to go wrong if the Templars were amiable, and nothing she saw told her that they were looking for trouble. Only blood magic. Aurora raised her eyebrow for that, clearly a little surprised. No one she knew used blood magic, or at least she didn't believe they did. There was a chance that Ithilian's friend could, yes, but she didn't peg him as they type to be so open about it to rouse the Templar's suspicion. "Neither have I," Aurora agreed. "But I do hope you find them," She added, tilting her head. It wasn't a lie either, when blood magic cropped up, nothing good ever followed.
"It's as the others say," Ithilian offered from his seat. "We have seen nothing, and we here are the ones who watch over this place. We would not allow a threat to it to linger, you have our word." He knew with near certainty that Emerion practiced blood magic; most Dalish Keepers knew at least a little, and Emerion had certainly not been raised with the ideals of restraining his own power. He did, however, think his friend was smart enough not to make overt use of it while in Kirkwall. There was no guarantee that Emerion was the blood mage being sought after, or that there was any blood magic present at all.
"And a fine group of watchers they are," Emerion offered, standing up and wiping his hands. He clicked his tongue twice, gesturing for the young boy to depart, and he did so quickly, though not at a run, with his recently stitched leg. Knight-Corporal Swann watched him go with some interest, but Emerion's healing supplies were visible enough, and she paid it no further mind. "They are skilled," Emerion continued, with sincerity, "devoted, tireless in their efforts, and fairly well-loved by the people. That last part can be applied to few groups in the city, of late."
"Perhaps that's true," Swann conceded. "The Templars can be harsh, on occasion, but for Kirkwall as a whole, I do believe we're the best equipped to maintain the peace. I do hope we can do that in a way that will create cooperation from the people, though. Some of my fellow Knights are fond of kicking down doors, sadly."
A voice was raised off to their left, easily identified as the Knight-Lieutenant, Grath. Ithilian found himself standing, moving over towards the man, though Emerion was two steps ahead of him. He frowned, wishing his mage friend would choose not to get involved in this. He hadn't liked the look of the man from the start, and suspected there would be trouble. No doubt Emerion had thought the same.
"Compose yourself, woman," Grath said firmly, standing at least a foot and a half over the older elven woman he was speaking to. She was visibly shaking, her eyes thinned and threatening tears, though Ithilian hadn't seen any threats leveled. He supposed the Templar's appearance alone would seem a threat, to someone not used to seeing them around here. "You need only answer my questions, and I will move on. Silence will not work in your favor."
She then sank to her knees, looking away and terrified, while Grath turned back to see Swann already headed over, with the pair of Dalish in front of her. "If this Alienage is harboring apostates or worse, maleficarum, they must be brought forth. Giving them shelter will only make this all the more painful."
"If you are willing to give me a moment, ser," Emerion offered, his tone devoid of both fear and aggression, something that almost seemed to surprise the Knight-Lieutenant, "I believe I can help."
"You have something to say to me, elf?"
"Not to you, no." He walked past the armored man and knelt slowly beside the crumpled and sputtering woman. His tone was gentle, but strong. "Mala suledin nadas. You are capable of more than you think. This will pass, and they will go. He means you no harm." He glanced up at the taller man, with a slight grin. "Even if he does look a little grumpy. Come, stand. I will remain with you." His hand he kept on her shoulder, and the pair rose together. The woman did not look at the Templar, but she was finally able to make herself speak to him.
"N-no... I have s-seen nothing of magic h-here... messere." Grath didn't seem satisfied by the answer, but had clearly been dissuaded from pressing further.
"I did not expect a warm welcome here," he muttered to himself, before turning to Ithilian and the others. "You're the guardians of this place, then? Perhaps we can enlist your aid. Reports of apostasy and blood magic have increased over the past year, but it's too scattered to pinpoint a central location, if there is one. The Order could use assistance in rooting out these maleficarum."
"What he means to say is," Swann cut in, delicately, "we would be most appreciative if any useful information any of you uncover could be brought to the Order's attention. The Templars can stay out of your way, and no more blood magic. Everyone wins. The Templars are interested in building bridges, not burning them."
"Thank you for your understanding," Ithilian said, nodding. "We'll be sure to do that."
Satisfied, or as satisfied as they were going to get, the pair of Templars bid them farewell, and turned to leave the Alienage. When they were gone, the elven woman who had been questioned gave out a shudder, leaning into Emerion for support. He narrowed his eyes in the direction the Templars had gone.
"Two different faces. Each the same oppressor. They should not have come here."
Nostariel sighed softly, shaking her head. Templar shakedowns were the last thing the Alienage needed, it was true, but from her point of view, it was rather pointless to try and hinder them overtly. One had always to tread carefully with them, and if at all possible, not lump the reasonable in with the unreasonable. āAnd yet the best way to see less of them is to cooperate when we do. To a point, anyway.ā She certainly didnāt plan on giving up anyone who knew what they were doing, but there was little mistaking that most blood mages were a danger to themselves and others. If there really were ill-trained maleficarum hanging around the Alienage, they would make things considerably worse for everyone here, Templars or no Templars.
Her lips pursed, and she glanced over to the woman, checking her over for any sign of injury. There were none, of courseāSer Grath may have intimidated her, but he had not laid hands on her. Fortunate, for everyone involved. āAre you all right, madam? Perhaps you should sit down for a bit.ā She also wondered, for just a moment, if it was simple fear that had sealed her lips shut at first. Or if perhaps she knew something more than sheād said. Now was clearly not the time to ask, however.
"I'm... alright now. I think I'll head home. Thank you for the help." She nodded her thanks at both Nostariel and Emerion, and then made her own departure, heading deeper into the Alienage rather than out of it. Emerion watched her go for a moment, to make sure she was alright.
"Delya told me she has a history with a Templar, something to do with her son. Both are gone now. The Templar slain by the Qunari, and the son slain by the Templar while fighting for the Qunari." No more explanation was likely needed. A number of young elves had been driven to fight when the Qunari rose up, seeing some sort of chance to fight for their own place in something, even if that something was as foreign to them as the Qun.
āMany people were slain that day.ā Amalia was not completely certain what was meant by a history with a Templar, as she had learned this could have many senses, but whichever one it was, it probably wasnāt good. Histories with Templars rarely seemed to be, around here. Whatever the case, there was nothing to be done about it now. Her eyes moved to Aurora for a second, visible concern flickering over her face for a moment. There was little point telling her to be careful; she knew that very well by now. Amalia was tempted to say it anyway, but in the end, she refrained. Nostariel was safer, considering her status as a Grey Warden; Aurora had no more protection than her wits could grant herā¦ and her friends, to a point.
Aurora exhaled a sigh and rubbed at her brow. Things were becoming more complicated, but she was relieved to find that the Templars only had rumors to go on. Had they more evidence than that, then either Emerion or her wouldn't have slid by so easily. She did not want to imagine how things would've turned out if they were here for either of them. Still, the event changed some things and it reminded how careful she had to be-- especially now. Her eyes turned to Emerion for a moment before she shook her head. There were other apostates in the city, some of which may even practice blood magic for less than favorable reasons.
It caused her to think, however. Looking toward the direction the Templars left, she spoke. "I should go. There are some... things I need to see to." She turned back to her friends still gathered around and gave them a reassuring smile before landing solely on Amalia. "And don't worry. I'll be careful," She said, taking her leave.