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The aravel of the former Clan Rashim laid in ruins, although the bodies of the dead had been lain to rest... just in a very Andrastian fashion. The nearby graveyard had been destroyed by the Venatori. The two Dalish wardens sat around the remains of the place, quietly roasting a rabbit.

"Not even the children...," the mage, Revas, said shaking her head.

"Such is their fate," the rogue, Tamen, said poking the fire with his dagger.

They both wore the vallaslin of Dirthamen on their faces remnants of the life they had left. The artefact sat bundled up in the Rogue's cloak near the fire. The mage had gotten word to wait for someone to come along through her dreams.

Ithelana would have been told to meet them at the Avarels. When she came, it was just a sad memory of what once was, a thriving clan, now lost forever to time.
"An'daran Atish'an ,"

Ithelana greeted and carefully pulled the hood from her head that hid her features. Her dark hair tumbled forth and swayed with her as she approached the pair of elves that bore the mark of Dirthamen. It was not lost on her at how fitting it was for them to be the one's whom possessed the artefact she saught out.

The smell of smoke and decay was hard to ignore, as well as the destruction of Aravels around her. Too many had been burned, ripped apart by claws and flames and brute force. The dead were nowhere to be seen and the saplings that would indicate a proper Dalish burial were also absent. Ithelana frowned. She had not been expecting this at all.

"I assume that you posses what I have been seeking, children of Dirthamen?" Ithelana asked and gave a quick glance around their merger camp. It couldn't hurt but to be cautious around the two, be they Dalish or not.

"Though perhaps it would be best to speak after the rites for the dead have been preformed properly. We leave them in a cruel fate to not send them to the beyond and grant them peace," She suggested respectfully.
The Dalish wardens heard the footsteps of someone approaching, and readied their weapons, only to relax when they heard a familiar greeting. Up close their youth was evident. The two of them were in their late teens, old enough to be on their own and receive their vallaslin, but not enough to be given greater responsibility. Far too young to be trusted with the details to carry out their traditional rituals.

Revas would give the coded greeting she had been taught to Ithelana, expecting the appropriate response.

"Aneth ara," Revas said with a soft yet sad smile.

"We do," Tamen gestured to the small bundle beside the fire. "I am Tamen, this is my sister Revas of Clan Valas."

Their camp was... sufficient to say the least. They had selected one of the better looking Aravels to use as a tent. Their own supplies sat at the side.

When Ithelana mentioned that they should bury the dead properly, the two elves nodded their heads, glancing at each other before Tamen continued. "There is an ancient burial ground nearby where we can lay them to rest... but... that has been desecrated as well. We do not know where to start."
Only now did she notice the youthfulness that colored their round eyes, the fresh color of the sacred ink that marked their faces as the firelight flickered upon their features. Idly, she wondered what had happened to them for them to join the order of the Grey. Was it duty or a twist of fate?

"Clan Valas," She repeated the namesake slowly, commenting it to her memory. There were so few clans that roamed the lands of their ancestors. It seemed that many of the people had disappeared entirely or had met unfortunate fates such as the slaughter of the one around them.

"Your clan is unfamiliar to me but that doesn't make us less kin to one another," Ithelana added with a small smile. Grimly, she listened to Tamen speak of the burial ground and her jaw clenched.

Of course it came to harm as well. The Ancestors were not going to be pleased.

"Traditionally we lay our dead with an oaken staff to guide them along their path to the Beyond for Falon'Din cannot," She began to explain. "A cedar branch is also given to chase off Fear and Deceit, the crows who once served your beloved Dirthamen. Finally, after all the mourning songs are sung, a tree is planted above there resting site so that they will still live on and will never truly die out,"

Her hazel eyes gazed upon the broken Aravels and ruined campsites once again.
"However the situation is more dire now that you mention the desecration of the nearby burial ground. Those who have died will not be able to rest without proper respect for their graves. Their spirits could roam and angered by the lack of respect given, they could cause harm to all,"

Her eyes harden to a serious shade and she chewed her lip before speaking.
"I am no mage nor am I truly gifted in appeasing spirits with funeral rites but it has to be done. A garden of local flora will have to suffice"
Clan Alerion wandered the hills of Navarra and Valas was mostly limited to the Dales. They had been a small clan, hardly much of a voice at the last Arlathvhen.

When Ithelana mentioned she was no mage, Tamen glanced at Revas. The girl looked at her staff.

"I had been chosen to be the First of our clan when I came of age... but I haven't learned the songs... beyond what we did as children. That bit of our clan is lost with the rest of them," she said softly.

As she gazed out over the clearing, she continued.

"The spirits here are... quiet. My sleep has been uninterrupted by them and even when I dream, this place is bare save for the echos of the place. There are no angry spirits here, or happy ones. By rights the place should draw the demons but... there's none at the moment. Perhaps the Dread Wolf is doing something but I've not seen his passage through this part of the Fade."

So there was something in the Fade keeping things at peace at least.

"We trust in your guidance Hahren."
Ithelana visibly relaxed at the comment Revas had given. She could not dream like those whom possessed magic but understood the fundamentals behind what they could see. Those with magic could attract spirits and demons alike but if the beyond was quiet and still, then perhaps their troubles would lessen.

"That is good to hear then. For the time being, there will be no threats of angered or disgruntled spirits or demons," She concluded with a hopeful smile.

"That makes our duty much easier, that is if you two don't mind sharing stories and mourning what was lost," Ithelana added and moved closer. "Though the restless spirits have been taken care of, this clan has to be remembered for no one else will be able to tell their tale. I hope you won't mind in sharing this burden with me,"
Revas and Tamen shook their heads when Ithelana offered to share the tales.

"We do not mind," Tamen said, speaking for the both of them as he looked at the camp.

"We knew little of the clan that was here, but what little we could gleam from the wreckage was that they were heading south and just passing through. There was a Venatori encampment nearby. It is possible some hunters went to pay their respects at the burial ground but were waylaid. Then they came for them. As wardens, we only received word from our Commander and we volunteered for the assignment after the Dread Wolf told us about it. Only we among the wardens knew of the massacre before the wardens arrived... but we had to be careful with our words and emotions while waiting."

It was clear Tamen was the leader between the duo at how he spoke most of the time. Revas picked up the statue they had stolen, stroking it gently. The halla statue glowed gently on her touch. "What stories would you like us to share Hahren?"