Time Of Reckoning

Chapter 7.

Cringing at the memory, Mel let the little flute fall back on her chest with a sigh. As she walked though, a tan man with shoulder length, dark hair waved for her attention. Seems he was the kennel master, and Mel's curiosity was piqued. Shambling over with tired eyes, the blond looked up at the man with a dull yet slightly curious expression.

"Can I help you?"

The shem nodded and smiled, leaning against the fence of the kennel next to them. "You're a Grey Warden, right? Or soon to be, anyhow. I could really use your help."

Mel ran a hand down her face, pinching her nose as she cringed at the title. "Yeah. What do you need?" Her voice came off plain and cool, not really giving off any emotion.

The human didnt seem to notice though as he nodded and continued to speak. "The dog in this kennel swallowed some darkspawn blood the other day and is gravely ill. If I don't get 'em muzzled soon, I wont be able to treat the poor fella properly. You Wardens are immune to the Taint and I figure you wouldn't mind helping me with muzzling the dog?"

Mel blinked, looking over the small gate that kept the beast of a dog inside. She stared at the hound, locking gazes with it. "...Just how smart are these dogs, anyhow?" The elf had heard many shems brag about their big dogs and how smart they were, but the only ones she'd encountered were near rabid in the Arl's estate. They died rather quickly to her blades.

"About as smart as your average tax collector, as it were. They understand pretty complex commands, some can even hold conversations. Bred by the Tevinters up North." He shrugged, glancing over his shoulder at the dog. "The real trouble is imprinting them, ya see. They only choose one master, and rarely ever move on, even after the previous owner dies. It's a sad thing, really. This one's owner was killed in a skirmish with the blighters, we found 'em on the road. Still hadn't left it's master's side, buncha dead spawn all around 'em. The men who found the scene figured it was better with them, rather than out in the wilds."

Mel gazed at the dog as the man told his story, there was something in the dog's eyes. Something akin to the feeling she got while looking at Halla.

Before she knew it, she was nodding and holding out her hand. "You got the muzzle?" Her attention was dead set on the mabari, but she did glance at the leather placed in her hand. The contraption made her want to bare her teeth, but she knew that it would help the poor thing. Muzzle in hand, she stepped in to the kennel and stood over the dog.

The mabari growled weakly at her, fear in it's eyes as it stared at the muzzle in her hand. It quickly laid down in submission though, as though it knew what she was trying to do. It probably did, from what the kennel master had told her. With a sigh, she knelt down and did her best to secure the muzzle around it's snout without hurting it. Once she was done, she gave the hound a meek smile and hesitantly rubbed it's head. "It'll be okay, just stay calm and he'll help you."

The dog seemed to almost nod at her words before laying it's head down and yawning.

Mel smiled and pushed some chopped hair out of her face, standing up once more and leaving the kennel. "Muzzle's on, seems calm." She shrugged to the dog lord.

The man sighed in relief and smiled to her, nodding in appreciation. "Come to think of it, are you headed to the wilds any time soon?"

Mel blinked, remembering the brief conversation she had with Daveth about the ritual they were going to be taking part in. Slowly, she nodded, looking up at the kennel master. "I might be, why?"

"Well see, there's this flower out there, all white with a blood red center - The Chaisend have used it to help their hounds heal from the taint. If you're headed out there, I'll pay you to keep your eye out and bring one back for this guy." He said, gesturing to the dog inside the kennel.

"No pay needed." The words seemed to slip off her lips before she even registered what he had said. Averting her eyes, Mel cleared her throat and almost pouted as she looked down, crossing her arms over her chest.

The kennel master raised a brow incredulously but shrugged it off, giving her a friendly smile. "That's very kind of you, Warden. Maybe we can see about him getting imprinted to you."

Mel pursed her lips, glancing back at the dog who hadn't taken its eyes off of her. "You... Think that's possible?"

"Anything is, but we'll have to see if he survives, the flower will definitely improve his chances." He leaned against the kennel, clearing his throat. "Sides, seems the fella likes you anyway. Didn't even bite you when you put the muzzle on em. None of the other men could even get close to 'em before this, you're the first it's allowed to touch 'em."

A small, smug smile pulled at the corners of Mel's lips. She did have a way with animals, it seemed, especially after her time with the Dalish... Well, maybe it was an elven thing? Who knows.

"Guess we'll see."

With that, she turned away and sauntered off. Fjara must have found Alistair by now, buncha shem around here. As she walked, she wondered if there were any other elves about besides the servants. Her eyes stayed wide and alert, and she didn't stay in one place for too long, simply observing all the shemlen. The chanters had to be the most annoying out of all of them.

Mel spotted a magling talking with an older lady near the Circle tents. One of the other recruits Duncan had brought with him to the Brecilian Forest. They seemed to be in a rather heated discussion, Mel couldn't help but snort. Probably arguing which color is best for their fancy shmancy robes, or whatever Circle mages fought over. Wasn't her problem, so she kept walking, heading over to the smithy.

The forgemaster cowered as she came near, still rather scared after their last interaction where he'd mistaken her for one of his servants. The way he spoke to her when he thought she was just another flat-ear made her blood boil. He folded rather quickly once her blades were introduced to his throat, like paper really. Fool.

"That backpack - How much?"

Turning, the old bastard pulled up the pack for her to get a good look. "Fifty seven silvers, it's got a tear here but it'll do the trick." Clearing his throat, he straightened up and saluted to someone behind him. "Lady Cousland, is there anything I can do for you?"

Mel turned to see Fjara standing behind her along with another human she assumed was Alistair. Fjara smiled and held out a sovereign for the smith. "Yes, I'd like to pay for that pack, we'll all need as much room as we can for whatever we can pick up after the battle. I'm sure the darkspawn have some good loot." She winked down at Mel who had to hold in a groan. The woman had been trying to get on her good side since she'd been conscripted, it was really starting to grate on her.

Mel shook her head and pushed Fjara's coin away, shoving her fingers down her pocket and pulling out a fist of silvers. "I can pay for myself, lordling." She threw the coins at the forgemaster and grabbed her pack, not bothering to wait for him to count the silvers. "Goofy ass grin, leave me the hell alone..." Grumbling under her breath, she stomped off for the Warden tents.