Chapter Twenty-four: Pestilence

The Alienage was currently closed off to most visitors, but Kitranna showed the insignia of a Gray Warden and her group was allowed to pass.

The Alienage occupied only a small part of the city, but was clearly packed with a large number of people. Buildings stacked on top of each other in all different styles and eras, looking ramshackle and clumsy and squashed. The streets were narrow and winding, and many windows had small gardens in boxes hanging from the outside, but nothing was flowering or in fruit this time of year.

The smell was very—odd. The street was muddy, and there were many beggars and urchins about, and that combined with so many people would make one assume that the smell would be foul, but for some reason it wasn't. To be sure it wasn't exactly a very flowery scent, or very pleasant, but there was some odd smell on the air that wasn't particularly good or bad.

The Alienage was cut off not only by a gate, but by a canal, though which flowed a stream of foul water. They crossed a bridge to get to the main Alienage, where people stared at them with suspicion, eyes lingering on their weapons and armor.

Someone quickly recognized Uvundar.

“Tabris!” an older man, begging by the side of the road called out. “That's never the Tabris girl?”

Uvundar looked over. “Zaron,” she said with a smile. “Surely it can't be old Zaron?”

Zaron got to his feet with a groan. “What are you doing back here, girl?” he demanded. “After all that trouble--”

“I'm with the Gray Wardens,” Uvundar said quickly, gesturing to Kitranna and Fiona. “See? I got a pardon from the Arl and everything.”

Zaron squinted at them. “Gray Wardens?” his eyes lingered on the sword that Kitranna had on her back, the staff on Fiona's, the blades at Zevran's side. “Explains what a bunch of elves is doing armed, I guess.” he rubbed the back of his head and narrowed his eyes at Uvundar. “You shouldn't have come back.”

“And why's that?” Uvundar demanded, putting her hands on her hips. “What's going on? I heard there was some fighting or something--”

“Ask your cousin,” Zaron jerked his head towards the center of the Alienage. “Damn girl's getting everyone in a mess of trouble.”

“Shianni?” Uvundar breathed. “She's alright?”

“Alright and picking a fight with anyone who crosses her,” Zaron snorted. “Look, Tabris—just go ask her. And get out of here as soon as you can, don't need you fighting people too.”

“Alright...” Uvundar frowned.

“Oh—and keep an eye on the bloody friends with knives, yes?” Zaron called as they left. “Last thing we need is more guards getting twitchy!”

“Who's Shianni?” Kitranna asked.

“My cousin,” Uvundar explained. She smirked. “She bottled Lord Vaughn in the head one time.”
“Nice,” Kitranna said with an appreciative whistle.

They came to the center of the Alienage, where an enormous tree stood, easily as large as one of the old oaks in the Brecelian. For some reason the Veil around it felt pressed and warped—not to a dangerous amount, but enough to give it a feeling of magic.

“I like the tree,” Kitranna said.

“It's a Vhenadahl,” Uvundar explained. “Every Alienage has one. Do they not have trees in the Circle?”

“No,” Kitranna said. “I used to live in a tower.”

“Oh.” Uvundar blinked. “I didn't know that.”

“No one seems to know anything about the Circle,” Kitranna sighed.

“Do neither of you come from an Alienage?” Uvundar asked Fiona and Zevran.

“I am a mage also,” Fiona said.

“No, I came from the Crows,” Zevran said. “Alienages do not much like the Crows, and I do not think I would like living in an Alienage.”

They found Shianni next to a long line of elves outside a building that was larger and newer than most of the ones surrounding it. Shianni was currently having a loud argument with—well, everyone, as it turned out.

“If this 'spell' of theirs works, why are half the people they quarantine perfectly healthy?” Shianni demanded. “Everyone who's gone in there hasn't come back out agai—oh.” the crowd was now looking toward Uvundar.

“Uvundar?” Shianni breathed.

Uvundar gave a crooked smile. “Yeah.”

Shianni broke away from the crowd, which had begun to murmur to itself, and she and Uvundar embraced.

“I thought I'd never see you again!” Shianni exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Don't tell me she broke out of prison...” one of the elves said with a groan.

“No, I got a pardon from an Arl,” Uvundar said, raising her voice so everyone could hear her. “Absolutely legal. They let me out and everything.”

“The Arl wouldn't do that!” another elf protested.

“Not the Arl of Denerim, a different one!” Uvundar snapped. “Anyway—Shianni, what's happened? I heard there was trouble!”

“These foreigners say they'll help with the plague, but everyone they've helped has vanished,” Shianni said, pointing towards the large building. Outside the front there were several humans, two heavily armored, one in mage robes.

“That's not true, and you know it, Shianni,” one of the elves in the crowd said. “My two daughters went there and came back, and they're fine.”

“What about your niece?” Shianni demanded. “What about Cyrion, and Valendrian?”

“What's happened to my father?” Uvundar exclaimed in alarm.

“Those foreigners came in when the plague started getting bad, and set up that quarantine there--” Shianni pointed at the large building. “Most of the people they take don't come back—one of them was Cyrion, and they took Hahren Valendrian too.”

“At a guess, I would say this is the source of the 'unrest,'” Zevran murmured in Kitranna's ears.

Kitranna nodded.

“I complained, and Valendrian did too,” Shianni was saying. “The guards have to know about it--”

“They don't, actually,” Kitranna said, exchanging a look with Fiona. “Or at least, no one's told us.”

Shianni glanced at Kitranna and the others over Uvundar's shoulder. “Ah—who are your friends?”

“They're Gray Wardens,” Uvundar said.

“I'm Kitranna Surana, that's Fiona, and that's Zevran Arainai,” Kitranna said, stepping forward. “Nice to meet you.”

“Gray Wardens?” Shianni blinked. “A Gray Warden came through here, months and months ago—after you got arrested, actually,” she told Uvundar.

“Oh?” Fiona said. “Who was this Gray Warden?”

“He didn't stay long. I think he was looking for recruits, but he didn't find anyone.” Shianni shook her head. “Why are you here? What do you mean, the guard doesn't know about this?”

“Well, we're here to help--or we're trying to,” Kitranna said. “And no one told us about any quarantine.”

Fiona narrowed her eyes and looked up at the quarantine building. “That would have been useful to know,” she said. “We could have brought Wynne—even a human spirit healer would be tolerated, at least.” a muscle in her jaw ticced. “I think it likely that the guard simply did not pass on the message to higher authority,” she said. “Which would be why we know nothing about it.”

Shianni shook her head. “Makes sense. They don't care—or something worse.”

“Well—Fiona, you're a healer,” Kitranna said. “We could just go talk to the guards and I bet they'd let you in, see what was going on.”

“They won't,” Shianni said, her expression dubious.

“They might—and if they don't let in a Gray Warden spirit healer, we'll know for sure they're up to something very bad.”

Kitranna and Fiona walked towards the men at the building's door, Zevran at their back. The crowd watched them, fascinated, muttering to themselves.

Before they could get the chance to talk to the man in mage robes, a guard stood in their way. He had a uniform different from the Denerim guard.

“Elves cannot carry weapons here,” the guard said, folding his arms.

“We're Gray Wardens,” Kitranna explained. “We have a seal and everything, see?” she held hers out, and Fiona raised hers.

“What about you?” the guard snapped, glancing at Zevran. “You have no Gray Warden seal.”

“And as it happens, I have no weapons,” Zevran said, spreading his hands. And indeed, the blades that were normally at his sides had vanished.

The guard narrowed his eyes at him, confused. “But I could have sworn...” he shook his head. “You are wearing armor.”

“I was not aware that was a crime.”

“Why wear armor if you carry no weapons?”

“Perhaps it is because I am in the company of Gray Wardens?” Zevran suggested.

“Enough,” the mage growled, pushing the guard out of the way. “What do two Gray Wardens want here?” he demanded. “It is not safe here for visitors—many people are carrying the plague.”

“We have business here,” Fiona said. “We did not know about the disease. I am a spirit healer, and entirely capable of dealing with plagues.” she looked the mage up and down. “What we wish to know is why the Tevinter Imperium is here?”

“It is hardly in the best interests of the Imperium to allow a plague to spread,” the man said. “We are not immune.”

“You are not close, either,” Fiona said with narrowed eyes. “Plagues take time to spread across a sea, with many miles between here and there. Why do you busy yourselves with an elvhen Alienage?”

“This isn't your concern,” the man insisted. “Gray Warden or no--”

“It is our concern if Tevinter has decided to stick its great beak into Ferelden affairs!” Fiona snapped. “Did you get permission to do this? Who authorized this? Does the city guard honestly much appreciate Tevinters setting up shop in their city?”

“It is an Alienage,” the man hissed. “Without us, these people would all be dead of plague by now.”

Fiona straightened her back. “And the Imperium is ever so magnanimous when it comes to the elvhen, yes?” she snarled. “What. Are. You. Doing here? You can tell me, or you can speak to Arl Eamon.”

The man pursed his lips. “We are entirely authorized to be here, Warden,” he snapped. “If you could please move aside, and not waste any more of our time--”

“If you're authorized, then show me your documentation,” Fiona said, refusing to budge. “I have mine. Do you have yours?”

“We have nothing to prove to you.”

Kitranna picked at her fingernails. “In times of a Blight—which we're in—I'm pretty sure Gray Warden authority supersedes that of...whatever you are,” she looked down her nose at the man.

“I am afraid I've never heard of that particular ordinance,” the man said, folding his arms. “Now if you would please stand aside--”

Fiona turned on her heel. “Do you really trust this shem foreigner to treat you and your children?” she asked of the queue, raising her voice so she could be heard.

“You're Orlesian!” came a voice from the back of the line.

“Yeah, but, she's not a human,” Kitranna said. “And I'm Ferelden.” she glanced down at Fiona. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

“Set up a counterdefense,” Fiona muttered. “I am a Gray Warden, and a healer, and I tell you that this entire quarantine reeks of a farce.” she tapped her chin, then her eyes widened, as if a thought struck her. She raised her voice again. “Tevinter slavers can and have used situations like this to capture people! I would strongly suggest that until your Hahren returns and can prove otherwise, that you stay away from this place.”

At the mention of slavers, the crowd began to mutter to itself again.

“Is that true?” Shianni asked, horrorstruck. “Do slavers really do that?”

Fiona nodded. “I have seen it before,” she said, her voice raised so that the others could hear it. “Not so common in the south, no, but entirely possible,” she aimed a glare at the men at the gates. “So I suggest you listen to Mistress Shianni when she says this place is dangerous.”

“We are not slavers,” one of the men said, grabbing Fiona's shoulder.

Fiona shrugged him off. “Then prove it,” she snapped. “Prove that you are legally allowed to be here, and that there is a good reason for doing so. If that is the case, then we shall leave you be. If not, we shall inform Arl Eamon of this.” she put her face very close to his. “And I will ensure he listens.”

There was some aggressive staring, and the Tevinters looked at each other for a few minutes, then sighed and called for the infirmary to be closed for the rest of the day. The rest of the elves who hadn't been frightened off by Fiona's talk of slavery left, muttering to themselves.

“That was amazing!” Shianni exclaimed. “How'd you get them to do that? I never got them to do that.”

“It is truly remarkable what one can do with a Gray Warden seal and a noble who is in debt to one,” Fiona said.

“Do you really think they're slavers?” Shianni asked. Uvundar scowled.

“I do not know for certain, but I would not be surprised,” Fiona said, her lips pursed.

“Slavers are barred from operating in Ferelden though, are they not?” Zevran said. “Surely even in an Alienage guards would take exception to foreigners operating on their land, if nothing else.” he tapped his lips. “Unless they managed to set up some kind of deal with a noble, which is entirely possible.”

Shianni and Uvundar looked at each other.

“That is possible,” Uvundar said slowly. “Considering the nobles here.”

Zevran nodded. “Never underestimate the power of greed to circumvent, well...just about everything else.” he said.

“Come,” Fiona said. “We've gotten the clinic closed, but we still need to do investigations of our own,” She shook her head. “Nothing about this sounds right to me.”

“No, it certainly does seem suspicious,” Zevran agreed, tapping his lips with one finger. “What do you propose we do?”

“There's a back way into the clinic,” Shianni said. “It'll be locked, though.”

“Not a problem.” Zevran said. “And if it is a problem, I suppose we could always simply blast the door down.”

“I would rather that we not do that,” Fiona said.

So, they went to the back way.

“How'd you do that trick with the knives?” Kitranna muttered to Zevran on their way there.

Zevran smirked. “Long practice,” he said. “Do you think an assassin can afford to always appear very armed?”

“I suppose not.”

The back door was locked, but unguarded. Zevran managed to pick it open with only a slight amount of difficulty, and Fiona, Kitranna and Zevran went in while Shianni and Uvundar waited outside. There were several people inside, all human, no elves. They managed to sneak past them to a back room, where they did find elves—inside a cage.

The air around Fiona heated up.

“You help them,” she instructed Kitranna and Zevran, pointing to the cage. “I'll deal with the rest.”

She turned on her heel and left, for the main room. Kitranna and Zevran glanced at each other, then turned their attention to the elves in the cage.

“Are you alright?” Kitranna asked the group while Zevran got to work on the locks. “Why are you here?”

“They're slavers,” hissed a woman with a black eye. The sound of screaming came from the main room, short and loud and abruptly cut off.

“What'll happen if you escape?” Kitranna asked, as Zevran pried the door open. “Will they come after you?”

“Not sure,” said another man. “They might.”

“They will not,” Fiona growled, coming to the entrance. Her robes were spattered with blood and her expression was one of abject fury. “I will not allow it. Where are the others?”

“Don't know,” said the woman, while the other elves took the chance to flee. “Maybe one of the other buildings?”

“Will you be safe here?” Fiona asked. “Do you have a home to return to?”

“Well, maybe not now that I've been gone so long,” the woman said. “But—I should be safe enough. If you catch the rest.”

“We will,” Fiona promised.

They left the building (sidestepping the burnt corpses of the guards that Fiona had killed), to meet back up with Uvundar and Shianni.

“I was right,” Fiona said. “It is slavers.”

Uvundar and Shianni both cursed.

“I knew it!” Shianni spat, curling her hands into fists. “I knew there was something wrong with that place!”

“Do you know where the rest might be?” Kitranna asked. “Where else would slavers hold up?”

Shianni and Uvundar both thought.

“There are plenty of old buildings they could be,” Uvundar said. “The houses here are close together, though, you can hear everything that goes on in them.” she stroked her chin. “They've have to be somewhere derelict--”

“Are you sure they won't just be outside the Alienage?” Shianni asked. “Couldn't they just leave?”

Fiona shook her head. “I believe they would draw more attention if they operated in Denerim, but outside the Alienage,” she said. “Denerim's guards are far more watchful in the human districts.” her lip curled in a sneer.

“That's true,” Shianni agreed. “Well—there are some older warehouses, on that side,” she pointed to the appropriate end. “They're too rotten for anyone to live in, even here.”

“Then that is where we shall look,” Fiona said with a definitive nod.

“What will you do?” Shianni asked.

“The same thing I did with the other slavers—kill them.”

“Do you want to come?” Kitranna asked Shianni.

Shianni shook her head. “No, I couldn't,” she said. “I don't know the first thing about weapons.” she glanced at her cousin. “What about you?”

“And risk getting arrested again?” Uvundar shook her head. “Let the Gray Wardens handle the fighting,” she grinned. “For now.”

So Fiona, Kitranna and Zevran set off through the tenements, towards the warehouses. The warehouses could not be accessed from the street anymore, so they had to pass through several buildings to get to where they were going.

They did find the larger slaver operation, with several more captive elves. The man in charge was a Tevinter mage, like the man who had been running the 'clinic,' and he didn't get a single word in edgewise before Fiona fireballed him.

Uvundar's father, Cyrion, was among the captive elves, but the Hahren was not. Still, that was more elves than would have been rescued otherwise.

“Do you know where any of the other elves may have been taken?” Fiona asked Cyrion.

“I have no idea,” he said with a sigh. “The magister, or whatever he was—had some documents, but I never got a close look at them.”

Cyrion and the other elves left quickly, eager to put the place behind them, but Kitranna, Fiona and Zevran stayed to see what they could find. Fiona searched the head slaver's body, but found nothing. She did, however, find a stack of documents on a nearby table.

She picked one up and looked it over, and her eyes widened. “No,” Fiona breathed. She dropped the document and curled her hands into fists. “I cannot believe—je no comprende--”

“What?” Kitranna picked up the papers that Fiona had dropped. She looked it over—it was an official document allowing the selling and buying of slaves by the Tevinters, and it had Loghain's official seal on it. “...ah.”

Zevran looked at it over her shoulder. “It seems someone had a vested interest in keeping this from reaching the ears of those who might have stopped it,” he said.

Fiona was pacing back and forth. Occasionally she would mutter something in Orlesian to herself.

“Fiona,” Kitranna said. “We have to get back to Shianni and Uvundar, and Eamon. Tell them about this.”

Fiona glanced at her, nodded. “Porquoi--” she began, then shook her head. “Why would he do this?” she said to herself. “There is no reason, none at all--”

“We can ask him at the Landsmeet, I'm sure,” Kitranna said. “Now come on—Maker only knows what's happened since we've been gone.”

The three of them went back to the Alienage square, where Shianni was pacing back and forth by the Vhenadahl. She took them back to Cyrion's house, where Cyrion and Uvundar were having an alternately tearful and angry reunion.

“You really couldn't find Valendrian?” Shianni asked.

Kitranna shook her head. “No, I'm sorry,” she said.

“It is possible he and many other elves have already been taken out of Ferelden,” Fiona said, her lips pursed.

“Is there anything we can do to find them?” Shianni asked.

“We can try,” Fiona said. “We can ask Arl Eamon if he is willing to spare anyone to look, but chances are that nothing will come of it.”

Shianni closed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair. “I just—if Valendrian's gone, I don't know who's going to be Hahren next.”

“Did he have children?”

“No,” Shianni shook her head.

Cyrion and Uvundar came to join them. Both of them had red eyes, but other than that they were composed. Cyrion had his arm around Uvundar's shoulders, holding her as if he were worried that she would vanish if he let go.

“I'm sure we'll figure it out,” Uvundar assured Shianni. She turned her attention to Kitranna. “What are you going to do now?”

“Inform Eamon that Loghain was selling slaves,” Fiona growled.

“What good will that do?”

“Hopefully, it'll let us oust Loghain from office,” Kitranna said, waving a hand. “We just needed a bit more evidence that he was going wrong—now we have it.”

“What about us?” Shianni asked. “What do we do next?”

“I would advise you pick a new Hahren,” Fiona said.

A thought struck Kitranna. “If you wanted to join the Gray Warden army, we wouldn't have any problems with that,” Kitranna said.

“We don't have many warriors here...” Uvundar said. “No one can carry weapons, remember?”

Cyrion raised his eyebrows at her. "I don't recall that that stopped you from learning how to use a blade," he said.

Uvundar flushed. "I mean--Papa, you know I--"

Kitranna cut her off before Uvundar and Cyrion could start arguing again. "It's your city, isn't it? You could at least talk with us.”

“Perhaps a new Hahren could speak with the Dalish ambassador,” Fiona suggested. “I believe she is on her way here, yes?” she glanced at Kitranna.

“Last I checked, she was.”

“The Dalish?” Shianni breathed. “You've seen them?”

“Seen, met, helped out, signed a treaty with. Yep. Oh,” Kitranna added, remembering something. “They don't speak Common—I mean they do, but they speak more Dalish. So, you know, watch out for that.”

“And they can be...odd about city elves,” Zevran added. “Some even cruel. But the ones we met were pleasant enough.”

“Odd?” Shianni asked. “What do you mean?”

Zevran smirked. “They do not always consider themselves kin with city elves,” he said. “But, Clan Leanvunlas takes in elves from the cities and the Circle, so I do not believe they will have such a problem with you.”

“The Dalish and the Alienages should work together,” Fiona said firmly. “It is a disgrace how we have had so little contact with each other.” she frowned. “Perhaps you may speak with a Circle representative as well...”

“If we did that, perhaps we could speak with some of our people who have gone to the Circle,” Cyrion said.

Shianni nodded. “We could!”