Chapter One: Signs of Trouble
All this standing was killing her feet but it was something she was quite used to. It was a rare day when the Arlessa of Amaranthine wasn't on her feet day in and day out. Aellerain's attention was drawn to a broad man in the colors of the northern coastlands and as gruff to match. He bowed, her seneschal announcing him as Ser Damrik and he, as all of those with troubles in the arl, told her the reasons for him being here. Raiders again.
In her peripheral vision she noted that others nodded to the same problems and she stopped the sigh of frustration she wanted to make. She turned to seneschal Varel who was already anticipating her words.
"We shall have troops sent to the coastlands immediately, Arlessa." He said.
She hid the smirk that appeared with the bow of her head and added, "Have one of the Grey Warden mages as well as a few of the Warden rogues accompany them. I believe the raiders need to have a fire lit under their britches to get the poin