"The Chantry does its best to appear benevolent despite its bloody history," Deidre informed Imenry. "Especially in these present times where politics dominate most of Thedas. The elves back in the days of Arlathan were a formidable force to be reckoned with...more intelligent, more well-versed with the land. Some say they were purely immortal...eternal and armed with the wisdom of the ages. After the Tevinter Imperium's war against them, and after the Exalted Marches were called upon their remnants, they've become a far cry from what they used to be. To such a dominant force like the Chantry, they're no longer a threat...most of their history and culture lost in the ashes of oppression and religious intolerance. They lost much of their former selves. Is there a point, then, to keep breaking what has been irreparably broken?"
She took another swig of her ale. "I probably sounded a little blasphemous," she admitted. "If I said such things in front of the Revered Mother, she would've punished me." She knew what that was like, the bitter taste of her year-long suspension several years ago remained stuck at the back of her craw -- the punishment so severe to the mind and spirit that she hid its true circumstances even from those closest to her. "But these days the truth tends to be equated to heresy." She shrugged at that, a calm acceptance of something ingrained in the system she was tethered to.
"Anyway..." She smiled. "I spent several days with Faer and Jaden's clan. I think you've met them, they came in with your group a day or so ago, didn't they? It was...they have a very strong sense of community. Dalish clans are like huge, extended families. Everyone knows one another, everyone cares about one another...everyone worries about one another. If a hunter gets lost in the woods, other hunters are immediately dispatched to go looking for him. The Brecilian Forest itself is dangerous without an experienced guide....something happened in the past, I think, that thinned the Veil on significant portions of it. Trees can get possessed by malevolent spirits and move on their own, ghosts walk freely with the morning mists."
When the barbarian woman confessed her liking for the Mabari, she laughed. "I do too," Deidre said with a grin. "I don't think you can be Fereldan and not like our dogs. Do you know the story behind that? As to why we're so attached to our canines? It's tradition, actually. Our Almarri ancestors often bonded with wolves for life. I believe the Ash Warriors still hold true to some of the old tenets."
The inquiry about her parents caused the cleric-to-be to nod, though at the note of sympathy, she could only smile faintly and shrug. If she harbored any ill will in never knowing them, there was no trace of it on her features. "I told a new friend... Beth...Bethen Avilla, one of the mages," she explained. "That I'm never really sure who lucks out more... those who remember their parents, who have good memories of them, only for that to be taken away....or those who never knew them, never had any memories of them and therefore didn't experience that kind of heartbreaking loss. I...to this day, I still don't know what to choose. I'm of the latter. I don't remember anything before the orphanage in Denerim." She grinned ruefully. "I'm starting to think small communities are the best, with my time with the Dalish and now what you're saying. To know the necessity of working together in order to survive."
Her head angled curiously at Imenry. "What would you choose?" she asked curiously. "Would you choose to have a wonderful childhood but inevitably suffer its loss and remember it being taken away from you, or would you rather not have known any of that at all?"