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[The Ben-Hassrath]

14 Solace

Vashedan.

It had been four days.

Four days since he failed in his role.

The Qun, to his dismay, provided little solace in such a situation. Failure was not an option. Therefore, answers on how to remedy failure could not be found.

The Ashkaari would be able to find the answer.

The Ben-Hassrath frowned at the feeling in his chest. Parshaara.

He soldiered on, forcing one foot in front of the other, his flagging steps leaving long trenches in the sand. The Wounded Coast was like a maze. After he had found his brothers dead and defiled and the Ashkaari missing, the Ben-Hassrath had pressed forward along the coast, following the tracks into the dunes.

It was a mistake.

Over a day ago, the Tal'Vashoth archer had got lucky, spotting the Ben-Hassrath in the pathways through the sand. The resulting arrow in the hollow of his shoulder was barbed, and removing it would only make a wound that would be unmanageable on his own. So, he had left it, and pressed on away from the infested hillside.

He was weak, now, feverish. He was not so proud that he couldn't admit when he needed aid. But there was no aid to be found. The arrow, coupled with his fall down the cliffs to the cove and his trek through the spider infested caves, would likely be the death of him. He stumbled over his own footing, and fell, retaining enough sense and energy to turn himself so he landed on his side in the sand instead of on his front - and the arrow.

The sun was high in the sky over the sea, and the Ben-Hassrath, in a shameful moment of mental weakness, suddenly wished he was at home in Par Vollen.

Failure was not an option. And this was the price that had to be paid.

[Canus]

The humans had driven him here. They hated him for his mere presence. They didn't like to look at him, and would either happily kill him, force him into jail or the Qunari compound, or something. It didn't matter that he worshiped the Maker. They couldn't tell that outright. To them, he was a Qunari, a heathen. That he spoke with a Tevinter accent, often stumbling upon words and substituting them with their Arcanum counterparts, increased their dislike.

Canus wasn't one to realise that he was risking himself by going alone into bandit and Tal'Vashoth infested lands. His trek to Kirkwall had been almost event-less, with a single highwayman he'd taken care of easily. What he would encounter on the Wounded Coast, he had no idea.

He came upon a strange sight right by the ocean: a giant man, lying on his side in the sand. As Canus approached, he could see that this was no human. He's like me, he thought. But there were no horns. He'd never seen such a Qunari or Tal'Vashoth like this before. But his curiosity would have to wait. The man was wounded. And Canus didn't know how to treat wounds. He nervously but gently rolled him over, onto his back, after removing his sword and shield, setting them right beside the kossith – hoping, praying, that this did not harm him further – and examined the wound.

This post has been edited by Canus on Jun 11 2011, 09:53 PM

[The Ben-Hassrath]

The Ben-Hassrath growled (or rather made a pitiful mockery of a growl in his weakened state) when he felt someone remove his bassrath-kata and shield. Whoever it was laid them at his side, however, and he felt large strong hands turn him over.

The Ben-Hassrath squinted in the sunlight, looking at the shadow of the newcomer. His hand reached for his sword, not to threaten but for the comfort his asala gave him. "You..." he choked out, swallowing back the dryness in his throat. "You are... kossith..." he said, looking the youngster and seeing no paint, no markings, no indication of his role... and even if he had a role, he was much too young to be on the mainland away from Par Vollen. But still retained his horns - not Tal'Vashoth then.

Who was he?

"Imekari," he said, "your aid would be welcome." The Ben-Hassrath grunted as he shifted himself. "The arrow... needs cutting free, and I need the bandages from my pack," he said, indicating the pouch at his waste. "I cannot do this alone without risking the arrowhead snapping off. Will you help?"

The Ben-Hassrath truly did not know why he was asking for aid. He had failed. Failure meant death or worse. But, he suppose that this "survival instinct" that he heard the Ashkaari talk of once was present in all creatures, not just animals and bas.

Also this youngster... It was not the Ben-Hassrath's role to question or seek answers, but after over a decade travelling with ashkaari, he had a little knowledge outside of his role and there was an odd, unknown but not entirely unwelcome compulsion to find out more. "Why are you here, imekari?"

[Canus]

He had only encountered one Qunari in his life, and that was in the arena. Captured from Seheron, he had been put there for the mere entertainment of the crowds, and they found it even more amusing that the magister's horned pet was the one to kill him. He had said nothing, merely charged Canus in a seeming rage, and the slave had been forced to put him down. That was a long, bloody fight; Qunari were veritable warriors.

Aside from the things the magister had said or had been told about the war, and sparse bits told by people he'd met, he honestly knew little about Qunari. Nirmoh wasn't a Qunari, he was a Tal'Vashoth, and a mage at that. He seemed educated, but Canus still wondered how actually Qunari were, and how they were different. Growls were so awkward, coming from a sentient being.

Kossith. Was that the name of the horned people, or a Qunari word for him? He watched the Qunari touch his blade, but he made no move to attack. Imekari. Another foreign, undoubtedly Qunari word. And he told him how he could help. Canus quickly found what must have been the Qunari's pack, and set it down after finding the bandages inside. He knelt beside him, staring at the arrow and the wound. He used to be sickened by the sight of blood, but arena fights had mellowed that.

“How should I do this?” he asked the Qunari. “My name is Canus,” he answered. “I am...” He started to say from Tevinter, but decided against it. There was a war going on, bitterness on both sides. “I was a slave. A magister's slave. I just managed to get free. What is your name?” he asked, curious.

[The Ben-Hassrath]

A slave. To one of the Tevinter saarebas no less. Pity was a foreign concept to the qunari, but the Ben-Hassrath felt something akin to concern for this youngster. How he got free, or even how and when he was captured, he did not know, nor did he know how to ask.

For the umpteenth time that day, the Ben-Hassrath wished the Ashkaari was here.

"On my belt is a knife," he said. He wanted to reach down himself, but not only did he not want to relinquish his hold on his asala, he didn't have the energy to do more than talk. "You will need to cut the wound open wider to pull the arrow out. It is barbed - to jut pull will be foolish and risks breaking the shaft and leaving the arrowhead inside." He grunted as he readjusted himself so his shoulder lay flat. "Do not worry about the blood or causing pain. It must be done. When the arrow is free, I will need you to bind the wound tightly." It was not ideal - the wound ought to be cleaned, treated and the blood flow slowed before bandaging, but there was no time to teach the imekari all of that.

"I am one of the Ben-Hassrath," he said in response to Canus' question. "It is my role and title. It suffices as a name."

[Canus]

He was surprised the Qunari did not hate him. After all, he was a Tevinter, through-and-through. He had been born in Seheron, but he was raised by slavers and eventually Epicurus in Minrathous. He spoke with a rich Tevinter accent, and followed the Imperial Chantry, though the Qunari could not have known the latter. Judging by the weapon and shield, he was a soldier, so...wasn't there animosity? Perhaps it was because he had been a slave, or because he was a kossith. Or the fact that he was willingly helping him with hope of gain.

Canus gulped. If he did this wrong, he could end up accidentally killing this Qunari. He didn't want to be responsible for the death of one who did not deserve. Arena fights or not, it was also pretty gross. He found the knife, and removed it, nervously returning to the Qunari's wound.

Wincing, he got to work. “Maker's breath...” he uttered. “Who did this to you?” He folded his legs under him, setting the – now unrolled – bandages on his lap, and beginning to work on the arrow wound, wincing as he cut. He was so focused on it that he didn't look up at the Qunari's face. Finally, it was done, and Canus pulled the arrow out, dropping it to the ground and immediately started wrapping them around the wound, tightly as instructed. He was surprised with how well the Qunari was doing with not showing pain.

He didn't know what a Ben-Hassrath was, but apparently it was his name. “Okay,” he replied. “Mind if I call you 'Benny'?” Because “Ben-Hassrath” was a bit of a mouthful.

[The Ben-Hassrath]

The Ben-Hassrath grit his teeth as Canus went to work. The imekari was good at following instructions, working quickly but carefully. With the arrow removed - and with it the burning pain of his body trying to expel the barb - the Ben-Hassrath felt strong enough to push his body out of the sand, shuffling onto his elbows and sitting upright so he could look at Canus properly.

He did not know how to respond to his request. The imekari had used the name of the bas hissra as an exclaimation of surprise... which meant this kossith was a bas - it would be unfair to call him Tal'Vashoth when he did not know of the Qun to abandon it willingly.

Conversion and teaching was not his role, so correcting Canus on his name and rank would be pointless. The Ashkaari often let bas fumble the pronunciation of qunari words, and it was not his way to correct the ignorant when he was trying to seek wisdom.

It was not the Ben-Hassrath's role to seek wisdom, but it was not his role to teach or correct either. "Ben-ee," he repeated slowly. "This... "ee" suffix means something in common tongue?"

His voice was raspy and weak, and he shifted backwards in the sand to lean his back against a large rock. "You said you managed to free yourself," the Ben-Hassrath asked. "When did the magister capture you?"

[Canus]

“Well, actually, it's short for 'Benjamin,'” Canus replied. “But I suppose it could short for Ben-Hassrath too. I won't call you that, if you don't want to be.” He wiped his bloodied hands on his pants. Having housed himself in Darktown, that wasn't the worse thing on them. “Oh, it wasn't the magister that captured me, it was slavers,” he said. He knew a bit about his history, but what he knew was mostly vague. Not that it was really important now. He couldn't return to Seheron, and the past was the past. He was a new man now. A free man.

“I was born on Seheron, to a group of Tal'Vashoth. The Legion slew them and found me, and sold me to slavers, who raised me, if such a word could be used. Since I was a child, I've known nothing but servitude, but I'm free now. Cut the magister's head off in Tantervale and fled.” The kossith had been enraged, and out of control of his emotions, had decapitated his master. Freedom had been foreign when he'd fled, and only in Meeran's Red Iron had he discovered relative freedom. Afterward, it was complete freedom, and now that he had it, he didn't want to lose it.

"Are you here with the other Qunari?" he asked, wondering if he was with part of the group that had shipwrecked here. He glanced at the Ben-Hassrath's forehead. "And why don't you have horns? I thought all of you had horns."

This post has been edited by Canus on Jun 12 2011, 06:24 PM

[The Ben-Hassrath]

"Ben-jah-min," The Ben-Hassrath tried slowly. "This is... a bas name? One that merely describes the person bearing it, not their role or their purpose?" The Ben-Hassrath shook his head in confusion. "Ben-Hassrath is my role, but if it will set you at ease, then I will take on the "ee" suffix."

The Ben-Hassrath listened to Canus' tale and felt some approval. The mention of Tal'Vashoth was unsuprising - they were ill-equipped at protecting their kin due to them being traitors, and it made sense they fell to the Tevinters and allowed their children to be taken in such a way. Still, the circumstances of his birth were not his fault - much like the bas on the mainland, their initial ignorance was not their fault.

Their persistent ignorance and resistance, however, was.

"You have a strong heart," the Ben-Hassrath said approvingly. He had seen some of the slaves that had been left on Seheron - most had no concept of what it was like to serve anything other than their master. "I do not claim to know how the tamrassan assign roles but your strength of will would be most welcome amongst the antaam."

"I do not have horns because I was born without them," the Ben-Hassrath explained calmly. A bas imekari would not know that, so the Ben-Hassrath had no qualms about telling him. "I came here with my brothers and the Ashkaari - my brothers are all slain, and the Ashkaari is missing. What other qunari have you seen?"

The Ben-Hassrath had no reason to hope that it was the Ashkaari that Canus had met. A bas kossith, a slave to a Tevinter Magister, and now free due to his own devices... the Ashkaari would not have let Canus out of his sight until he had all the answers he wanted.

[Canus]

Canus nodded. “Yes, it is,” he replied. The role thing was new-ish to him; he was used to being called slave, though, which was similar. “How do you keep that straight? I mean, there are other Ben-Hassraths, right? That must be so confusing.”

Canus smiled. “Thank you,” he said. He had been told this before. He was a kind person, who cared about others, they said. “You're a nice person, too. Different from anyone I've met.” He did not mention Nirmoh. The Tal'Vashoth wanted to keep a low profile.

"I do not claim to know how the tamrassan assign roles but your strength of will would be most welcome amongst the antaam."

Canus stared at him with a confused look. What was a tamassran and antaam? “Wait...what...? What does that even mean?” He didn't like the implications. 'Assign roles...' it meant as though the Ben-Hassrath hoped he would join the Qunari. But the certainty he spoke it with it implied...

“So they were your brothers? I am so sorry...that must be horrible, losing them. Who did that?” Canus said. He had never had a brother or a sister, and whatever his mother and father had been, had died. “What's an...ash-carry?” he asked. “The Qunari are in Kirkwall, at the docks. Their ship crashed here. I haven't talked to them, but I know their leader is called air-shock or something like that. There's also the ones here, on the coast. The Tal'Vashoth, I think they're called. But I think they were here before the Qunari arrived. Why, might I ask, are you here?”

Another question had been burning in his mind, and he asked it quickly. “By the way, what is a 'bassra vash ee don'? What does 'puhsharra' mean? I heard the Qunari saying these words.”

[The Ben-Hassrath]

The Ben-Hassrath sighed, adjusting himself so he was more comfortable against the rock. The pain in his shoulder was subsiding but it would be a good day before he was fighting fit. “A tamrassan is one that teaches. I am not one, and I am ill equipped to teach you. I will tell you what I do know if you wish it, however – just know that it is not likely to be completely comprehensible. Trying to instil understanding is beyond my capabilities.”

He sighed again, grunting as he shifted his shoulder. “The Arishok is one of our three... leaders, if you will. That he is in Kirkwall is troubling, but I am not a part of his contingent. My brethren and I came here with the Ashkaari,” he said, putting a slow emphasis on the word to share the pronunciantion, “The Ashkaari is one who seeks wisdom – the world of the bas – that is to say, those not of the Qun – is strange to us. The Ashkaari seeks to find knowledge to aid us. But the world is dangerous, and the Ashkaari does not fight – so my brothers and I fight for him to protect him.”

”There are other Ben-Hassraths, right? That must be so confusing.”

“We had no need to use our names,” the Ben-Hassrath said. “We simply were. It is... hard to explain, to a bas. The Ashkaari would fare better at this, I feel.”

“The Tal’Vashoth are not qunari,” the Ben-Hassrath said a little fiercely. “They are kossith – we are all kossith. But they are traitors to the Qun, raised by the teachings and assigned their roles only to cast them aside. My brethren and I were ambushed by them on this very coast – and now my brothers are dead and the Ashkaari missing.” The Ben-Hassrath’s tone was angry and bitter. “We had no quarrel with them – we were not here to deal with them. Yet they still attacked.”

The Ben-Hassrath sighed again. “Parshaara. You do not need to be burdened with tales of my failure.” Reminded of Canus’ other question, the Ben-Hassrath took the opportunity to change the subject. “Parshaara is a way of closing an issue. Similar to “enough” in the common tongue – it is a way of saying, “no more.” Basra vashedan...” The Ben-Hassrath hesitated. “It is an insult,” he said simply.

[Canus]

“And you're saying that I will join this...antaam? What is an antaam, anyway?” Canus didn't have any intention of joining anything he didn't want to, no matter if they were of the same species. If he decided it wasn't by him, then by the Void, he would not go. He was a free man. He felt that the choice was his. “So, he's an adventurer of sorts, and a scholar? I hope you find him. I would be willing to help you in your search, if you so wish.”

“You mean, he doesn't even have rudimentary sword skills? And yet, he ventures into such danger?” He didn't understand why someone like that would not learn to fight. It was basically like asking to be killed or hurt. He didn't understand why people such as merchants or travellers did not learn to use a blade. Even if you were to go down, go down fighting. Canus hated cowards. Though if he'd met the Ashkaari, he'd quickly find out that the Qunari was no coward.

He couldn't even begin to comprehend the Tal'Vashoth, because he didn't know the exact meaning of roles. But he knew about these Tal'Vashoth. “They're bandits. They attack anyone and everyone that passes through here that is unfortunate enough to be seen by them. They're a plague that must be stopped.”

“Ah, what kind of insult? Like dog-lord or nug-humper?” He chuckled. “Haha, nug-humper. That's a funny one. And there's shim-linn. Not sure what the means.” Now that Benny was doing alright, he was cheerful, though still a little grossed out by what he'd had to do. “I'm sorry, I was just curious.” A random thing came to his mind. “Is it true that Qunari put leashes and collars on their mages, and cut out their tongues? Or is that something the magisters make up?”

[The Ben-Hassrath]

"I do not know what a dog-lord or nug-humper is," the Ben-Hassrath said, "but if they are insults to people that indicate that they are lower or lesser than the insulter, then yes, I suppose they are alike." He sighed, wishing once again that the Ashkaari was here. He would know.

"The Ashkaari is the bravest, wisest soul I know," the Ben-Hassrath said. "He does not need sword skills - such tasks are mundane in comparison to his quest for wisdom. The Ben-Hassrath are his guard so he can focus on his task. He will not stand idle in a fight, however," the Ben-Hassrath added, recalling how the Ashkaari had struggled against his assailant and how he had hit him. "It is just not his role."

"The antaam are our warriors, strong and steadfast. You will not join them because you are not qunari," he said not unkindly, but matter-of-factly. "I was merely speculating on what could have been." Such thoughts were folly, but the Ben-Hassrath was, despite his fortitude, still unwell.

"I am glad you have judged the Tal'Vashoth correctly, imekari," the Ben-Hassrath said as warmly as a qunari could manage. "It is a most astute and correct assessment of their nature. As for our sarebaas, our mages, yes we do leash and collar them. They are a danger to themselves and others, a gateway for demons. But they are respected as much as they are controlled - striving while under constant threat from within is truly selfless, the highest virtue of the Qun."

[Canus]

At first, Canus imagined a Qunari speaking, and bandits' minds exploding. Shaking the strange – and morbidly funny – image out of his mind, he responded. “You speak highly of the Ashkaari,” he replied. “I try to learn to do a bit of everything. The magister used me for many tasks, and now that I'm on my own, knowing how to cook or knit is as useful as knowing how to fight. I don't know how it can be, to have only one role. Except slave.” That is what he once was. But now, he had no role. He didn't need one.

“I am not Qunari? And I am not Tal'Vashoth, either? So, I am simply kossith? Maker's breath, so confusing.” He nodded when “Benny” spoke of the Tal'Vashoth. “No matter the race, bandits are like demons: they need to be put down. Unless – unlike demons – they can be redeemed.”

He frowned when Benny confirmed his beliefs. It was contradictory, that they were honoured but bound up like slaves. “Hessarian's sword, I thought those were merely tales meant to make Tevinters hate your kind even more. Maker's mercy...sorry, I am just trying to stomach this.” His opinion of the Qunari had fallen. Mages couldn't help being what they were. They were honoured in the Imperium, and held high positions. If Canus had been born a mage, he'd possibly have been a magister himself by now.

[The Ben-Hassrath]

"It is difficult for one not of the Qun to understand," the Ben-Hassrath said. "Our sarebaas are as devoted to the Qun as their arvaraad, their leash holders. I cannot explain it any more than that."

"You are kossith," the Ben-Hassrath confirmed with a single nod. "You are not of the Qun, but you cannot have betrayed it either, so you are not Tal'Vashoth. But you use the curses of the bas in the name of their hissra their... god, is it? You were raised as a follower of their Chantry?"

"Having more than one role... it is confusing," the Ben-Hassrath said. "I am struggling outside of my role right now," he added, being open and confiding in this youngster that had helped him. "I exist to serve the Ashkaari, but the Ashkaari is missing. It is not my role to search, yet I find myself doing just that in order to find my role again. To search for my path is... unsettling."

He grunted as he shifted his legs to encourage the blood to flow. "I admire your thirst for knowledge, Canus," he said sincerely. "The Ashkaari would be most interested in you, I would think."