Their new elven companion definitely doesn't agree, walking forward with her bowstring still pulled back, eyes narrowed in anger. The other two men are dead, but the last lies under the tree roots, groaning and gasping.
"Why should he live?" she asks, voice laced with anger and her arrow aimed at his head.
"We should question what they were doing out here," Ellana begins, but the man huffs out a pained laugh and tries turning his head to spit at Galadriel's feet. Unfortunately for him, most ends up on his chin, but he doesn't seem to care.
"I will tell you nothing, so you may as well kill me," he sneers, his accent marking him as Orlesian, which considering they're in the Dales isn't very surprising.
"All you need to know is they wanted the location of my clan's camp, and I wasn't going to tell them, so they tried to grab me," the elf replies, clearly impatient to end his life.
"Why did you want the location?" Ellana asks, feeling a chill at the thought of humans showing interest in the Dalish. Usually -- at least outside of the Inquisition -- that never means anything good.
The man sticks to his declaration, and clamps his mouth tightly shut, refusing to say anymore. The elf, clearly having had enough, lets out a growl of frustration, though she does lower her bow.
"What all these deserters from the shem war want! They want to take back the Dales. They probably want to raze our camp and steal our supplies. Fenedhis lasa! Can I kill him now?"
Again, the man says nothing to either confirm or deny this story and Ellana is pretty sure that their small group of six probably shouldn't try to follow up on this in case they run across a group of fifty deserters. She really can't see a reason to send him back to his group, but she looks to the others. "What do you think?"
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"Why should he live?" she asks, voice laced with anger and her arrow aimed at his head.
"We should question what they were doing out here," Ellana begins, but the man huffs out a pained laugh and tries turning his head to spit at Galadriel's feet. Unfortunately for him, most ends up on his chin, but he doesn't seem to care.
"I will tell you nothing, so you may as well kill me," he sneers, his accent marking him as Orlesian, which considering they're in the Dales isn't very surprising.
"All you need to know is they wanted the location of my clan's camp, and I wasn't going to tell them, so they tried to grab me," the elf replies, clearly impatient to end his life.
"Why did you want the location?" Ellana asks, feeling a chill at the thought of humans showing interest in the Dalish. Usually -- at least outside of the Inquisition -- that never means anything good.
The man sticks to his declaration, and clamps his mouth tightly shut, refusing to say anymore. The elf, clearly having had enough, lets out a growl of frustration, though she does lower her bow.
"What all these deserters from the shem war want! They want to take back the Dales. They probably want to raze our camp and steal our supplies. Fenedhis lasa! Can I kill him now?"
Again, the man says nothing to either confirm or deny this story and Ellana is pretty sure that their small group of six probably shouldn't try to follow up on this in case they run across a group of fifty deserters. She really can't see a reason to send him back to his group, but she looks to the others. "What do you think?"