I HAVE FINALLY UPDATED! I'm so sorry for how long this took, but university, health problems, and life in general decided to kick my ass and take up all my time. I swear, this hasn't been abandoned! I'm really hoping to get more writing done this summer.

If anyone follows any of my other stories, those haven't been abandoned either! I am slowly managing to work on them when I have the time and energy.

Barkspawn had heard a waterfall, apparently. "Why'd you lead us here, boy?" Nym muttered as she scratched the mabari's ears. They all settled down, and a few minutes were spent simply basking in the peacefulness of the little pond.

Zevran nudged Nym with his foot. "Do you see that?"

"See what?" She did not even bother looking at where he was pointing.

"The cave behind the waterfall, of course." Nym looked around at that, examining the waterfall closely. "Honestly, my dear, I expected better of you."

"Oh, shut up you." Nym kicked Zevran's foot as she got up. "I'm going to investigate it. You lot coming along? Maybe we'll find something else to kill." Oghren scrambled up at that.

Zevran sighed. "Yes, why not? We are already wet, let us go wading through a pond and waterfall." Barkspawn huffed and dragged him into the pond with a rather entertaining splash and quite a lot of creative cursing on Zevran's part.

Oghren fell over with laughter, making almost as big a splash as the Assassin. Nym stayed upright, but only just.

Zevran glared at the mabari, who was sitting with his chest puffed out. "Really? You're proud of that?" Barkspawn woofed. The elf rolled his eyes at the dog as Nym's snickering renewed.

Oghren and Zevran eventually rose up out of the water, after they had managed to stop laughing and pouting, respectively. The elf endeavoured to fix his hair, while the dwarf settled for wringing out his beard.

Nym examined the surrounding forest closely, remarking in a slightly raised voice, "I wonder if that entertained our observers." The two elves' eyes snapped to where a soft rustling ensued. A wicked grin spread across Nym's face as Oghren proceeded to have a meltdown.

"What?! We're being watched?!" Oghren spun in a circle in a futile attempt to see whoever was watching them; he only succeeded in losing his balance and falling over again.

Eyes never leaving the trees, Zevran smirked. "If we were not before, we are now. How could anyone fail to notice your…grace and subtlety?"

"Bah! Notice this, thunder humpers!" Oghren bellowed at the forest as he grabbed himself in a rather intimate area, still lying prone in the water.

"Really, Oghren?" His antics drew her stare from the forest. "Nobody wants to see that." Nym raised an eyebrow at him.

"HEY! I do have a wife, you know!" The dwarf shouted indignantly as he once again rose from the water, Barkspawn nudging him to speed along the process.

"Yet she's across an ocean, no?" commented Zevran. Oghren glared at him, but it went unacknowledged by Zevran, as he gazed intently at the spot from whence the rustling originated.

"Boys -" Nym cut herself off as the water rippled. They all drew their weapons, previous sniping forgotten. There was calm for a moment, then chaos erupted.

Monsters resembling deformed corpses with bluish skin burst from the water. Blades sank into the undead flesh with unpleasant squelching noises; Nym and Zevran made similar noises of disgust. Oghren, on the other hand, was practically giddy. He laughed uproariously every time he cleaved through a monster with his battle-axe. Barkspawn clawed at the undead but tried to avoid biting them; they tasted revolting. Rather soon, there were five unmoving corpses littered in the pond.

"What were those…things?" questioned Nym as she pulled her staff blade from one of the bodies.

Oghren shrugged. Zevran kept his daggers out, recounting the bodies. "Were there not six -" Before he could finish his sentence, the missing sixth monster reemerged right behind Nym. Larger than any of the other monsters, it moved faster as well; it reared up and sunk its claws into Nym's side, wrenching her down under the water.

"NYM!" Zevran and Oghren leapt towards where she had disappeared, ignoring the sudden movement from the forest. There was a flash of light from under the water, and Nym resurfaced, the monster right behind her. It reared back to strike again, but instead fell back into the pond, dead; an arrow stuck out from its eye. Nym managed to crawl to the edge of the pond before collapsing, her right side torn open; blood poured out of the three claw marks left behind by the monster.

Zevran dropped to his knees beside her, feverishly digging through his pack for medical supplies. Oghren and Barkspawn growled at the dozen stupidly tall elves now surrounding them, their observers finally showing themselves.

One stood out from the rest; clearly the leader, the others oriented around him, ready to carry out any orders he might give. A red headscarf covered his right eye, but that did not seem to impede his archery; his bow was still drawn from shooting the monster that attacked Nym.

"WHAT WERE YA FUCKING WAITIN' FOR?" Oghren bellowed at the leader of the elves.

"Excuse me?" he growled. The strangers tensed and drew their weapons. "Take them to camp," he ordered. The group moved towards the pond, causing the mabari to stand closer to Nym and Zevran, barking like mad.

Zevran was quickly bandaging Nym's wound – far from perfect, but enough to staunch the bleeding temporarily. He glared at the encroaching elves and snapped, "Wait a moment, would you!" The strangers looked shocked, a few of them furtively glancing at their leader for further instruction.

The bandanaed one sighed. "We can provide you aid at our camp." Consternation flashed across many of the other elves' faces, disappearing as quickly as it appeared; their leader's hospitality seemed to be both surprising and unwelcome, though they could not let him see it. Oghren and Barkspawn exchanged suspicious looks but waited for Zevran to make the decision. He appeared torn, distrust plain on his face as he looked at the strangers.

One glance at Nym's side made up his mind. "Braska," he cursed as he carefully lifted her, nodding at the leader. The Wardens were surrounded and led deeper into the forest.

"Iorveth's back!" The call went around the Scoia'tael camp. Furtive whispers spread through the gathered Scoia'tael as they caught glimpses of the strangers before Iorveth ushered them into a tent.

"Were those...elves?"

"No, one was definitely a dwarf."

"What manner of beast was that?"

"Did you see all the blood on the one being carried?"

Iorveth emerged from the tent. "Bring the healer," he called. "Not that he'll do much good," he added quietly to Ciaran as the healer hurried into the tent.

For the next hour or so, Iorveth ignored all queries about the strangers; he and Ciaran instead discussed their plans regarding Letho. When the healer emerged again, Iorveth immediately beckoned him over.

"Well?"

The healer exhaled sharply. "It's bad. There wouldn't normally be much for me to do."

Iorveth and Ciaran exchanged a look. "Then what took you so long?"

"I said normally. This wasn't normal. Those men gave me some strange poultices to use for cleaning and bandaging her wounds."

"And you used them?"

The healer shrugged. "I figured it couldn't hurt." Iorveth nodded in agreement, dismissing him.

"What will you do?" asked Ciaran.

"I'll speak to them in the morning. Find out what they're doing here."

Nym woke slowly, feeling the stiffness of bandages. She struggled to sit up, but pain lanced through her side.

"Careful now." Zevran wrapped his arms around her shoulders and gently lifted her into a sitting position. "Don't reopen your wounds."

"What happened exactly? Whose tent is this? Where are we?" Nym glanced around as she spoke. Oghren and Barkspawn were asleep in front of the entrance of the strange tent. Smoldering coals kept the air warm, which was a blessing for Nym: the healer hadn't wanted anyone to redress her while her wounds were still fresh.

"I assume you remember well enough what happened. You are a woman of many talents, my dear, but swimming is apparently not among them." Nym stuck her tongue out at Zevran and adjusted the blanket over her lap. She didn't bother covering her breasts; none of the Wardens were particularly shy, travelling in close quarters and injuries did not allow for modesty normally. "As for whose tent this is, I don't know."

Nym blinked at him, once. Twice. "What do you mean, you don't know whose tent this is? I, unlike you, do not enjoy waking up in the tents of people whose name's I don't know!"

Zevran rolled his eyes at Nym's dramatics. "Despite what you may think, I have always known the name of whoever I shared a tent with. It may have been a fake name, but it was still a name."

"How very reassuring." Sarcasm dripped from her words.

Before Zevran could do anything more than wink at her, the tent flap rustled. The bandanaed leader looked down at Oghren in his path, slowly raised his foot, and deliberately placed it on Oghren's face as if he were a stepping stone.

"Not the beard!" Oghren cried out as he woke up, arms and legs thrashing wildly.

The elf continued into the tent stone-faced, completely unfazed by Oghren's flailing and squawking. He was alone in that, however; Nym and Zevran both cackled and Barkspawn huffed with amusement once he woke up enough to figure out happened.

Nym's mirth died out as she winced with pain, her hand holding her side. "Well, that's enough laughing, I think." She looked over the newcomer in a slow pan from his feet to his head. He was tall. Very tall. He seemed to be wearing a miscellany of armour pieces. Patches bearing crests were displayed on his belts like trophies. Nym glimpsed the edge of deep scarring from under his red headscarf. What she could see of his face, however, she rather liked. Chiseled features, bright green eye, and is that a neck tattoo?

"I was rather preoccupied last night to notice, but oh my, he's gorgeous," Zevran stage-whispered to Nym in Antivan.

"Indeed," Nym responded in Antivan as well. The stranger glanced between them, eye narrowed in confusion. However, when he looked at Nym, his eye went wide, first with surprise, then embarrassment. She swore she saw a blush spread across his face before he turned away. Nym shared a smirk with Zevran.

Still speaking Antivan, Nym continued, "He could step on me."

"You, my dear, should climb him like a tree." Zevran waggled his eyebrows at the leader's back.

"Bah! The twos of yous goin' on in that fancy-pancy language! Can't ya speak like normal people?" Oghren grumbled from his prone position by the entrance, not having bothered to move after being stepped on.

"Enough!" The bandanaed elf kicked Oghren to stop his whinging. He was not successful. "One does not simply walk into my forest," he addressed Nym and Zevran, but very noticeably did not peek at Nym's chest. The seriousness of his threat was somewhat undercut by the awkwardness of his gaze. "But you didn't even walk, did you? What would bring an unknown elven sorceress to my woods on a merchant vessel? Of course, I'm assuming you're elven; you're clearly not Aen Seidhe––"

"Aen Seidhe?" Nym queried, a hint of confusion in her voice.

"Aen Sei—?" He was clearly taken aback by their ignorance. "The Aen Seidhe are elves! One of the Elder Races, we arrived in the Continent long before the bloede dh'oine! We are few, yet long-lived–"

Zevran interjected, "Well, we're not that."

"But we are elves," Nym added.

There was a pause where his annoyance at being interrupted was blatantly obvious. After schooling his expression, the elf resumed speaking in a far more commanding tone, "That's what you are. Now, tell me where you are from and what you are doing here."

Zevran and Oghren both opened their mouths – no doubt to give non-answers of varying offence – but Nym raised a hand to stop them. "We are from Thedas, across the ocean. Ferelden, to be specific. As for what we are doing here…that's difficult to explain. Suffice it to say, research. More than that requires introductions, at the very least. Perhaps you would even be kind enough to disclose where we are and whose tent this is?"

The elf's eye narrowed. "You understand that you have no power, no authority, here?"

Nym sighed. "I'm aware. After all, I'm injured and presumably there's a full camp outside. I merely prefer to not divulge secrets – some of which do not belong to me – particularly while not even knowing who has me at their mercy."

Silence reigned for several minutes before he spoke again. "I am Iorveth, commander of the Scoia'tael. You are in one of our camps, near Flotsam."

"My thanks. I believe you've already had the dubious pleasure of interacting with my comrades, Zevran and Oghren." Nym gestured accordingly. Zevran gave a small, rather sarcastic bow while Oghren just grunted. Iorveth did not acknowledge them, instead waiting for Nym to continue. "I am Nymeria, commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens. I do hold other titles, but they are not relevant to my purpose here."

She quieted, obviously weighing her next words. "The Grey Wardens are warriors across Thedas whose sworn duty it is to protect the land against the Blight. It is a magical corruption spread by monstrous creatures called Darkspawn. The Blight poisons every living thing it touches; only Grey Wardens are immune to its taint."

Nym paused with her mouth open, watching with trepid fascination as Barkspawn walked over to Iorveth and gently headbutted his leg. Iorveth looked down at the mabari and back up at Nym and Zevran, eyebrow raised in confusion. "Why is it doing that?"

Nym just blinked and stared at Barkspawn with confusion and a tiny amount of betrayal on her face. Oghren resumed grumbling, this time about "that damned dog." Zevran managed to shake off enough of his bemusement to answer the other man. "It appears he wants head scratches. From you. Huzzah."

Nym cleared her throat and Iorveth refocused on her, ignoring the dog continuing to headbutt his leg. "Well, anyway, the Blight is the reason we're here: to search for a cure. It was long believed to be incurable; however, there are reports of isolated incidents where people have been cured of the taint."

"And you found something that led you here?"

"Not quite. I heard tales of this land, of strange creatures and monsters, of magic quite different from my own. Even if I don't find a cure here, the potential wealth of information will make this journey worthwhile. As for why we are in your camp specifically, that is far simpler. We landed at Oxenfurt and sailed upriver. The rest you know." She gestured to her injured side.

Iorveth's face was deliberately blank. After a moment, he nodded sharply and left the tent without a word. Barkspawn whined quietly as he never received any head scratches.

"I guess we can stay?" muttered Nym, exchanging concerned glances with the other two. They shrugged, Zevran leaning over to pet Barkspawn.

Ciaran hurried over as Iorveth left the strangers' tent. "What have you decided?" he asked in a low voice.

"They can stay. For now."

"You're letting them stay?" A few Scoia'tael looked around at this revelation.

Iorveth nodded sharply. "We could use a sorceress on our side."