In the Marches lived my people,
Wandered freely o'er the grasslands,
Made our camps upon the hilltops,
Traded with the city-dwellers,
Traded our goods to the quick ones.
Loved I all the fields and forests,
Loved my swift bow and my arrows,
Loved to learn the ways of wild beasts,
Loved to bring food for my people.

Came the Keeper to me one day,
Keeper with her eyes far-seeing,
Said, "Strange tidings have been brought me,
News of doings in the southlands.
A great meeting of the quick ones,
A great meeting of their mages,
A great meeting of their templars,
A great meeting all together,
Chantry calls the parties southward."

"Good this news and more speed to them,
Foolish, warring, reckless quick ones.
Let them go down to the southlands,
Leave us to our peaceful roamings."

Keeper shakes her head, unhappy,
Wary are her eyes far-seeing.
"Chantry meetings bring disaster,
Bring destruction on the People,
Send us fleeing to the wastelands,
Hiding, watching for the Templars.
We must know what they are planning,
Know what kind of fate awaits us.
I will send you to the conclave,
Send you secret, silent, watchful.
Learn the plans that they are making."

"Keeper, Keeper, do not send me,
Send me so far from the People,
Send me where the folk speak strangely,
Send me where their eyes are hostile.
Wise is First and full of learning,
Powerful his magic makes him,
He will pass unseen among them,
He will learn what they are planning."

"Cannot send the First to spy there,
Templars many would surround him,
Carry him off to the Circle,
Or as an apostate slay him."

"Send our brother from the city,
Newly come to Dalish fireside.
No blood writing to betray him.
Speaks the quick ones' language nicely."

"Cannot send the new-come brother,
Will not send the city-born one,
He is still a child among us,
He has not earned the blood writing.
Go, our daughter, skillful hunter,
Faithful warden of the People.
Take your bow and feathered arrows,
Take your armor, light and fitted,
Well-conceal your Mythal-markings,
Go with speed and all our blessings."

So I took my bow and arrows,
Took my armor, light and fitted,
Set my feet upon the highway,
Set my face toward the southlands,
Left my people, heavy-hearted.