A Challenger Arrives!

[fortheloveoffalondin]

WHO: Salem of clan Ghilan, and whoever finds him there at the gates
WHAT: The arrival of one small, cold elf that is not part of clan Ashara
WHEN: After most people have returned from the Mire
WHERE: Skyhold's front gates, then possibly the healers' tents


Keeper
I've made it to the mountains. It's so cold in the South.

I will find our missing brothers. They deserve to be home, or if they've not survived, they deserve to be buried as the knights are.

Updates will be sent as events escalate.

You have my thanks for allowing me on this journey. Now you must endure until I return.

The scroll was kept in a skin tube at his side, to be delivered when he arrived at Haven. When he'd arrived in the valley where it had been tucked, though, all he'd found was a mound of snow, rattled off the mountain, and droves of corpses. He'd lingered only long enough to offer prayers, ask that the souls be guided from the place to what afterlifes they would seek, then started off into the mountains. It was fortunate that one of his few great skills was tracking, as he'd been able to pick up a trail, first wide and hectic, trampling the snow as people had fled, but as he'd followed, stopping where the ground was swept clean and there were still traces of campfires, humps of snow and crude markers over the graves of villagers that had fallen, he'd started to slow. He was persistent, stubborn, and had a good capacity for endurance in conditions that really should have killed him within days.

The snow had all but completely erased the tracks he'd been following in some areas, but people always left markers behind that were easy enough to find, for one with keen eyes and determination that bordered on obsession.

When the hold had come into view, Salem was draped in furs, wrapped up tight to stave off the cold as his armor hadn't been able to. There were still parts of him that were frostbitten, and by the time he'd started the trek up the last leg of the path, his vision was swimming, legs shaking. His food had all but completely run out, hard tack and dried herbs the last scraps in his bag. He'd been chewing on strong mint to keep himself conscious, but even that was failing, and as soon as he'd rounded the top of the last slope and found where the land had mostly leveled off on the path up to the gates, he'd finally fallen.

An alert was put out to some of the healers: an unknown Dalish had been found in front of the hold, freezing, dehydrated, delirious upon being shaken to consciousness, but alive.

Two days later, after regaining the ability to walk without wobbling
Where was he now? The question went out among the healers, unanswered as the elf had disappeared from his cot while their backs had been turned. His armor was gone, his blades were gone, but it had apparently been too hard to drag his axe away unnoticed, so it was still dug into the dirt where it had been.

Now one elf a little too thin and dressed a little too sparsely was tucked away into a shadowy corner with a good view of the courtyard, a book in his hand and charcoal pencil scribbling away as he took notes on everything that he could see, from the Orlesian humans wandering the hold, to the elves here and there both from the city and from some other Dalish clan. He'd caught sight of an armored human man that looked like he'd had better days, a sword sheathed at his hip and an empty harness across his back similar to the one that he wore when he carried his greataxe, and had leaned out of his corner to track his movement until he'd disappeared into the tavern. Then he'd caught sight of another human, blonde and older and tired but with the bearing of a leader and a scar on his mouth that he wanted to see close-up and no his face was not turning pink over these stupid gods-forsaken shems you see nothing.

Comments

[amygdalae]

[Bruce had been taking one of his personal scheduled breaks when the alert came - and what an alert it certainly was. It's not everyday when one talked about a Dalish that had collapsed right at the entrance to Skyhold - especially one that was right on the verge of death.

The healers (the ones with magic) were the ones who took charge, but Bruce tried to help however he could, providing herbs and advising them where possible. The elf was in bad shape, and the fact that he was barefoot certainly didn't help either. Even Bruce wasn't entirely sure if the healers could manage this. But if he managed to make it all the way here, then surely that would be a testament to his spirit.

All Bruce could do was to try and push the odds in his favor.]

[el_tybs]

[He was already at the tents, checking up on those who got injured on the journey back from the Mire, when the alert went out. It was mere minutes before the some people showed up with the Elf, setting him down on a cot in one of the empty tents.

Verge of death they said. Maker damnit.

Sam was in the middle of stripping the Elf out of his clothes - armor? - when Bruce had showed up. Oh thank the Maker he didn't have to do this on his own. Unlike the first time they had met, Bruce was more talkative this time around, snapping out directions as time was of the essence. With the two of them the clothing came off relatively quickly, wrapping him up in blankets right after, and Sam working on getting some water and heating it up in a large tub after that.

It wasn't until the Elf's feet were submerged in the warm water that Sam allowed himself to breathe, rubbing his face tiredly. Sighing he looked to Bruce.]

How's he doing?

[amygdalae]

[After what seemed like an eternity onto itself they had managed to pull the elf out from the jaws of death - figuratively, of course. But it was still going to be a bit before the elf was going to really be able to do anything, although that didn't matter so much now with the comfort that he would be well again, in time.

Bruce takes a moment to wipe off the sweat off his forehead with a rag, tossing it over his shoulder after that as he glances over to Samouel.]

Out of danger, at least. But the frostbite's got him good - he'll still need a good amount of time to heal up from all the damage he's taken. [He shakes his head at this point and lets out a brief sigh.] It's a miracle he's even alive at all when he arrived here. Malnourished, dehydrated... we're going to have to keep an eye on him for at least a week to make sure his recovery is progressing.

[el_tybs]

[When Sam said he'd like to talk or possibly work with Bruce in the future, he had not planned on it being like this. Well it was probably fortunate for the Elf that they were since Bruce had more knowledge on treating frostbite then Sam, but the Mage could speed up the physical recovery quite a bit.

Still even with magic they had to at least soak the frostbitten parts in warm water first. Sure, Sam could have healed the man right away, things could heal badly if not treated correctly before hand, and with frostbite the man would have likely lost his toes because that. Something none of them wanted of course.

Like the feet, Sam places the man's hands in a bucket of warm water. They didn't look as bad as the feet, but still bad enough. He gives a hum, showing that he was still listening to Bruce.]

We're going to need to figure what he can eat if he's that bad. I doubt he'll be able to tolerate solids for a while. How long do you think he was out there?

[fortheloveoffalondin]

<sub>[The continuing discussion between Sam and Bruce eventually stirs him. It's darker than he could remember it being...how long had he been asleep? He'd had a dream, he'd been revived by the goddess Sylaise, then handed over to armored monsters... Ridiculous.

Sitting up, Salem groans deeply and rubs his hands across his face, his feet pulling up in front of him and his elbows propping on his knees. He glances down when the blankets on him shift, and immediately yank them back up when he realizes that he's not wearing anything.]</sub>

Where is this?

_{[The demand is loud, made in a cracked and hoarse voice as overbright green eyes scanned the tent, then came to the men sitting and talking with their backs to him. His eyes narrow, teeth baring.]}

Shems.

[amygdalae]

Long enough for the damage to be that bad. [The time doesn't matter - after a point, the damage just becomes so extensive it doesn't really apply anyway.] I'll work out a diet regime--

[He stops when he hears somebody snapping from behind, turning around and seeing that their patient, it seems, has finally woken up. And not looking very happy about it, considering what he said.

It's times like these Bruce deeply wishes there were more elves who could help out around here.]

We're not here to harm you. [He says, raising his hands and holding them out in what is hopefully a non-threatening gesture.] We're healers with the Inquisition. You collapsed at the entrance and was brought to us.

[And we saved your life, he might add, but that's probably neither here nor there.]

[el_tybs]

['Where is this?' 'Shems.' What a pleasant greeting. At least the Elf was awake, though he still looked like he was going to fall over if they weren't careful. It was honestly a bit surprising that he regained consciousness so quickly after collapsing from all the issues he had.

Speaking of issues, the Elf had taken his hands and feet out of the water. Great. Giving a sigh, he turns in place so that he's facing the patient, while Bruce tells him where he is. Sam doesn't bother in trying to get up since doing so might just spook the Elf more if he felt he was being towered over.]

You might want to put your feet and hands back in the water. There's some serious frostbite on your toes and fingers. I'd prefer you not losing those.

[fortheloveoffalondin]

<sub>[Still mildly delirious, Salem jerks and glances around, trying to find his knives, something, anything to arm himself with. There isn't much that he can reach from where he is, and he's still having trouble feeling his extremities as it is. He scrambles back some in his cot, almost enough to fall over the edge of it, the blanket yanked up to his nose and his ears leveled in distress.

He might have demanded who Sam was, if Bruce hadn't already told him. Healers. Human healers.]</sub>

Fen'Harel ma halam...

_{[Unfriendly, unwilling to cooperate, but uncomfortable with the way he was struggling to bend his fingers and toes, Salem conceded, easing forward again and making a face as he dipped his feet back into the warm water, though he kept his hands tucked in close to himself, blanket clutched around his shoulders like a shield against whatever these men might have in store for him.]}

Where is my blade so that I may- _{[stops, sneezes violently. He's looking less steady after it happens a couple more times, his face mottled red under the freckles and tattooing.]}

[amygdalae]

[Bruce mostly kind of just stays on alert in case the elf does try to do something regrettable, but at least nothing of that sort occurs so things are alright for now. In some semblance of alright, considering how close he had been to death if he had remained undiscovered any later.

He relaxes a fraction once the elf cooperates a little more, though, letting out a breath he had been holding back, trying his best to draw on whatever patience he could muster. Dealing with uncomfortable people always took a lot of effort on him.]

Your things are in another tent. [He says, slowly, so that the elf could understand and know that they were of no threat to him. One hand still up in the same non-threatening gesture, with the other he gestures for Samouel to heat up the water.] What do you need your blade for?

[el_tybs]

[Sam cannot help but raise a brow as he watches both Bruce and the Elf. Everyone seemed on edge except for him. Probably because the patient was stripped of literally everything and in his condition he was more likely to fall over then do anything. Not that he wasn't without a level of caution of course, just more lax.

He notices the hand gesture then, sighing lightly as he finally got to his feet. It was good that the Elf didn't have a weapon, because approaching would have been disastrous. As it was, Sam let Bruce talk and ask the questions, while he moved slowly until he was crouching next to the tub of water.

The water is still slightly warm to the touch when he sticks his hand in, making sure not to touch the Dalish elf in the process, but it could be warmer to help the frostbite along. It takes only a few seconds for him to get the temperature up before pulling his hand back and looking up at the patient from where's he's crouching.]

[fortheloveoffalondin]

<sub>[When Sam heats the water with just a hand, Salem's eyes narrow further. Bruce's question is forgotten as he glares at the taller human. A mage. He shouldn't be surprised; he'd heard about the Inquisition opening its fold to both the Templars and the Mages. It's still somewhat alarming, having one so near his feet.

Sniffing hard as his nose ran, he turned back to Bruce with that same sour expression.]</sub>

So that I may feel a little less like a damned prisoner.

[amygdalae]

[If the Inquisition really wanted him as a prisoner Bruce is pretty sure the elf would know, but he doesn't say that since its not like it'll help with the current situation.]

If that makes you feel better. [He says instead, lowering both his hands and giving a nod to show that he's heard the request.] I'll bring it over for you.

[With that said Bruce turns around and makes his way out of the tent to do just that, trusting Samouel to keep an eye on the elf to make sure he doesn't do something that'll lead to more work for the both of them.]

[el_tybs]

[Wait, what?] Bruce wait a- [And the man was already gone. Sam sighs and rests his chin in his hand.] moment.

[They purposely didn't let patients have weapons in the tents. Getting stabbed or beaten when you were trying to heal someone was NOT fun. Wrinkling the side of his nose at the possibility, Sam turns back around to look at the Elf.]

Any reason you're feeling like a prisoner?

[fortheloveoffalondin]

How would you feel if you were surrounded by men you didn't know that stripped off your means of defending yourself while you were asleep?

_{[Salem glares at the two of them, trying to edge off the edge of the cot to try and get at his armor and weapons on his own. He isn't moving well, and he knows he needs to rest, but that takes a back seat to being able to fight back if he really has to.]}

[el_tybs]

[That gets Sam raising a brow at the Elf. Both at the question and the way he's being glared at.]

Thankfully magic isn't that easy to strip away. Course because of that the threat of being made tranquil or getting Silenced was usually over head. It's not fun.

[He gives a shrug. Their situations might not be the same, but Sam is very much aware of what it feels like to feel like a prisoner.]

We couldn't just leave you in your wet clothes and armor, and you weren't exactly awake for permission.