[Clever title about Elves and Magic goes here] (Recruitment)

[Cadrexion]

The last of the evenings sunlight bled through the Brecilian Forest's towering treetops onto the crimson sails of the Adracca clan's now stationary Aravels and illuminating the snow capped tip of Dragon's Peak which could still be made out in the distant north, undoubtedly the more outgoing humans of the nearby Bannorn would be arriving tomorrow to trade. The tents had long since been erected and campfires extinguished, the only members of the clan still awake being a few watchmen leaning casually against the Halla pen engaged in conversation, several unruly children up far past their bedtime and the clan's First wearily returning from the depths of the forest.

He respectfully bowed his head  to the largely indifferent guards as he made his way to his own small tent at the edge of the encampment. It wasn't a well decorated or entirely cleanly dwelling, inside was only a bench littered with unsorted spellbooks, both Fereldan and Elven, a water barrel and a sleeping roll thrown atop a small pile of straw. The mage lit a candle and set it on top of the stack of books and pulled down his hood, the unhealthy pallor of his skin revealed by the dim, flickering light. He undid his braids and let his sandy blonde hair fall to his shoulders before trudging over to the barrel and swiftly dunking his head into the lukewarm liquid it held.

As he removed his head from the barrel, he ran his fingers through his hair and ringed out as much water as he could and then settled down onto the bench, brushing a few papers off and onto the packed dirt floor as he did. He cautiously peered outside his tent to look for any observers, as unlikely as they may be at this hour and pulled up his sleeves, uncovering his thoroughly bandaged left arm. Thin streaks of blood still made their way to the exterior. Cursing under his breath, Malithrulith carefully undid the bandages and rank his right forefinger over the freshly reopened wound which quickly clotted. After this task was completed, he fished around in his pockets for a fresh roll of bandages, which he tightly wrapped around his arm before tossing the old bandaged to the floor and setting them aflame with a touch of his finger, quickly stamping the fire out with his boots once they were sufficiently torched.

[E. N.]

Raelan almost didn't realize how close he was to stumbling upon it.  He knew he needed to find the Dalish, but also knew he couldn't just find it with his eyes.  So what better way to find something then to just wander until you run into it?

In theory, it was a horrible idea.  Put into practice, it was surprisingly successful.  Granted, Raelan had run out of water and was parched so badly he could have drank Orlesian perfume, he still had to count that as poor resource management.

The dark-haired elf's hair clung to his forehead and neck, his leathers creaking with the stressed movements.  Raelan noticed the trees ahead and the semblance of tents when the sound of bows being drawn caused him to stop.

"Wait! I'm here seeking aid! I am a Grey Warden, and quite out of supplies, I wish to rest and find help to fight the threat to these forests."  He hoped they would listen, considering the legends of Dalish taking city elves back into their clan, and him being a city elf, even Orlesian, must give him some leverage.  

Plus telling the truth seemed like the best idea.

[Cadrexion]

Malithrulith was just settling into bed when the noises from outside startled him to his feet. He hastily put his robes back on and grabbed his knife and staff. The forests of Fereldan are home to all kinds of dangerous creatures, spirits attacking sleeping travelers in the dead of night wasn't unheard of. Malithrulith brushed aside the flaps of his tent as he entered the clearing to assess the situation.

When he saw that the cause of the commotion, he sighed in relief and quietly slid his knife into its scabbard underneath his robes. He was an Elf, but lacked the tattoos given to all members of the Dalish tribes when they reached adulthood, perhaps an escaped servant of the Bann? Malithrulith had heard tales of the suffering of his city dwelling cousins and the Dalish helped the runaways whenever they could, though this stranger was rather well equipped for an escapee.

Malithrulith stood behind the watchmen as the stranger was explaining himself. It was possible that he spoke truly, but it was just as likely that he could be a fleeing criminal using the legendary order as a cover story. Either way it would probably be best not to antagonize him at this time.

Malithrulith tapped the leader of the watch on the shoulder. "Please lower your bows, I'll speak with our visitor." The hunters frowned questioningly, but did not protest. As they walked away, Malithrulith turned to the outsider. "I am Malithrulith, First of the Adracca clan. You say you are a Grey Warden?"

[E. N.]

Raelan had raised his hands to show he meant no ill-will.  He looked from elf to elf, looking quite relieved.  He had come upon a Dalish clan, not something worse.  Though for 'shems', this would be considered the worst scenario.  For Raelan, this was a stroke of good luck.

He lowered his hands and watched as an elf  forth, and was even more intrigued by the authority he held.  He bowed his head to the unmarked elf before him, Orlesian accent bleeding through his words as he tried to pronounce the name.

"Mali...thrulith?  It is my pleasure to meet you.  I am indeed a Grey Warden, of Orlais.  Duncan of the Grey Wardens has sent me to find and recruit warriors of all kinds to aid in the fight against the coming Blight.  The safety of your forests is at stake, I would like to speak to your Keeper, it would be an honour to have any of you fighting alongside us."

He hoped his etiquette was comprehensive enough to not sound far too Orlesian, and hoped he would sound rather proper.  He wasn't quite sure how the Dalish reciprocated to outsiders and made sure to be as polite as possible.

[Cadrexion]

Keeper Elidyr was a wrinkly old elf with thing white hair. He had been born to the family of a different clan, but one that already had settled on a First so when his talent for magic was discovered, he was given to the Adracca at the Arlathvenn. He did not resent his new family, instead he embraced them and worked hard to become one of them and when the old Keeper passed he was already a beloved member of the community, but his years were catching up to him, and though he wasn't ready to move on to the Beyond yet, he wasn't seen outside his tent much anymore save for the vallaslin ceremonies and to teach what little remained of old Elvhen culture to the children of the clan.

Elidyr awoke to the rustling of leaves and cracking of twigs. Outside his open tent flaps he could make out his apprentice and the night watchmen conversing with a strange figure, though with his poor eyesight and hearing, the details of this exchange were unknown to him, but as the Keeper of the clan he'd most likely be called on soon.

He got out of bed and put on his clothes, a simple brown robe and green cloak well suited to his humble personality, a trait which he regretfully seemed unable to pass on to his First, and moved to intervene in the situation before things got out of hand.

Old age seemed to have dulled Elidyr's sense of time, his reflexes or both. When he approached the exit to his tent, his First and the stranger were already there.

His apprentice seemed his usual composed self, but in his eyes was a look of unease. "Anetha ara, Keeper. This man came to us in the night, he claims to be a Grey Warden and would speak with you."

[E. N.]

Raelan crossed his arms in an 'x' over his chest as he bowed.  This was supposed to be an honor, he was sure, but the man seemed so old it wasn't at all what he was expecting.  When he finally raised his head and the other elf finished speaking, Raelan spoke up.

"My name is Raelan, of the Grey Wardens.  There is a blight, Keeper, and we Grey Wardens seek any aid you can offer us.  Preferably any of your clan willing to fight, yes?  Forgive my accent, I am not from here..." he smiled sheepishly, "...but that shows how important it is all of us band together against this darkspawn threat, no?"

His eyes continued to look the Keeper over, still surprised that he was fit to lead them.  The younger elf beside him must be expecting to replace him soon.  But if he was skilled... Raelan would rather have him at his side more than his comrades who lacked the talents of a Keeper.

[Cadrexion]

Elidyr frowned disconcertingly as he spoke. "Da'len, I mean no disrespect, for if you truly are a Warden then all the sons and daughters of Thedas owe you a debt that could never be repayed, but the Darkspawn have not been seen outside of the Deep Roads in over four hundred years, the Archdemons are no more."

The elderly Elf paused a moment to catch his breath. "If you are in some kind of trouble we would not turn you away, a fellow Elf, even one not of the clan, need not invent wild tales to gain our hospitality."

[E. N.]

Raelan paused, unsure of how to respond.  

"With all due respect, Keeper..." he mulled over his next words.  "This is no wild tale.  We Wardens have been vigilant for a long time.  We would not act unless we knew it to be necessary.  There is no reason that I would be out here if it were not for the need of the Grey Wardens."  He took a seal from his pocket, the grey wardens sigil, and held it out to the Keeper.

"Please, we need the help of all in Ferelden.  There is no way we can beat back this blight unless we unite."

He sincerely hoped the Keeper would take him seriously.  He didn't want to be out in these forests any longer than he needed to, and he needed to return to Ostagar.

"Ostagar is where we are making our stand.  That is where we will be, and if you cannot help us, surely we will have more losses than we should have had."