Hmm, seems like browsing through old files gives you lots of surprises. I had wrote so much of this thing... Half of it is an edited version of the part above, the other half is completely new. Let me know what you think.
The weakness of us Gray Wardens has always been our scarce numbers. Compared to the armies of the various kingdoms and circles, we are like a drop in the sea. This is further true in Ferelden, where our order has been exiled for two centuries.
The secrecy about our inner workings and rituals due to the risks and sacrifices we make for the greater good, prevents us from recruiting at large. This has also made us careful in the choosing of candidates for the joining, valuing skills and overall power over anything else, which has led to unfortunate accidents in our history, but such is our way: anything to defeat the Darkspawn Taint.
A few times though, our order has been graced with individuals who seem to shine with the light of hope, of makings that go behind fighting Darkspawn. I can only hope that one or more of such individuals are among us, maybe among the promising recruits I have chanced upon in the last months. The first has been Alistair. The young templar was about to take his vows, but he was unhappy, that I could see as well as his good and loyal hearth, in spite of being not the best fighter in the ChantryÆs order of protectors.
Then, as the danger of a new Blight approached, I travelled to Orzammar to investigate the Deep Roads, where the Darkspawn usually dwell unless they are preparing to once again spread their taint onto the surface. Such is what a minor Darkspawn activity in the Deep Roads usually signifies. Imagine my surprise when the second-born of House Aeducan, OrzammarÆs ruling house, walked out of a tunnel in the deep roads, dressed in just cloth garments and a ruined and bloody leather armour, in deep contrast with the finely crafted dwarven plate he had been donning just a few days before.
--
ôLord Aeducan!ö He was even missing gloves and boots, his bare foot covered in Darkspawn and deep-stalker blood. He could still see the mark of nobility and the skill in his movements, the very way he walked, but his visage told another story to the untrained eye, and his own eyes shone with fury and tiredness. ôWhat are you doing here alone? Where are your troops?ö
ôà I am Lord Aeducan no longer, in the eyes of my kin.ö The dwarf replied, his head standing tall to stare Duncan in the eyes, letting his dark brown beard and braided hair into clear sight, surrounding a big, in human standards, but normal-shaped nose and charcoal eyes.
ôAh.ö Renouncing his houseÆs name and finding him in the Deep Roads, armed only of a sword and a shield and of an armour which he had probably stripped from another unfortunate soul that had suffered his same destiny and a worse end, immediately led the Grey Warden commander to a single conclusion. ôYouÆve been made to walk the Deep Roads, then.ö
ôYou mean you were exiled? What happened?ö Another Grey Warden, a large sword carried on his back, asked him out of curiosity.
ôI do not think matters of dwarven honour are any business of us.ö Duncan immediately intervened. ôYou need not answer, friend.ö
ôà Thank you.ö The dwarf this time lowered his head in a makeshift bow as he replied, the sting of betrayal still fresh in his mind and it wasnÆt like he wouldnÆt be talking about it soon. The only way out of the roads and to the surface was through Orzammar, after all.
ôItÆs not the way of this order to pass judgement on the pasts of others.ö Duncan continued, to reassure the dwarf, already understanding why he had been looking for them. ôYouÆve already proven yourself both resourceful and skilled, and I would expect nothing less from an Aeducan. I have been searching for those with your level of ability. Your exploit in the Deep Roads set you apart.ö
ôà So you already know why IÆm here.ö The dwarf raised his head again, standing proud again, even if he had been searching for the Grey Warden so that he could save his life, or at least grant him another chance at it.
ôà I do.ö The older warrior nodded in acknowledgement of his intentions. ôAs leader of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden, I would like to formally invite you to join our order, lord Aeducan.ö
ô... So be it.ö The ex-noble extended his right arm towards Duncan, to offer his hand to shake. ôDuran Aeducan will be a Grey Warden.ö
--
Upon our return to Orzammar, we found out about DuranÆs situation. How he had been accused of having killed his eldest brother, Trian, and how he was denied a due judgment no doubt because of the younger brother, Bhelen. Again, I was faced with the dark side of dwarven politics, but there was nothing I could do for our newest companion.
But if the exile of the second born of house Aeducan had surprised me, nothing had prepared me for what is probably going to pass as the most unexpected outcome for a Proving ever held in Orzammar. A single contender had been going through an opponent after the other, with skill and determination rarely seen even in the holy grounds of the Warrior caste. After defeating three opponents, imagine the groundsÆ surprise when Everd, the warrior who was supposed to be fighting, came out into the arena, the effects of alcohol impairing his movements and speech.
--
ôIs my bout already?ö The drunk dwarf staggered towards the center of the arena, where another fighter wearing his armor. ôHey! ThatÆs my armooor!ö Duncan had noticed how the fighter had frozen up upon hearing the drunkÆs voice, and the way he was slowly turning around to meet the real Everd. The entire arena erupted into an uproar.
ôWho are you?! How dare you disrupt this sacredàö The arena grandmaster was about to shout at the newcomer, but what was supposed to be EverdÆs first opponent, Mainar, cut him off.
ôWait! I know that man!ö He shouted, anger clear in his voice. ôThatÆs Everd! Thenà What impostor did I fight?!ö
ôRemove your helmet, warrior.ö The grandmaster returned his attention to the unknown æimpostorÆ, who was currently spinning on his feet, looking at the arena, who just a few moments before was cheering him on, and now shouted in outrage. ôAnd let all who watch you see your face.ö
ôà Iàö The unknown warrior stopped moving to raise his head and stare at the grandmasterÆs balcony, and even through armour, Duncan could recognize clenched fists. ôI am of no caste or house, but I have defeated all of you!!!ö
The voice and the words shocked everyone in the arena because they revealed two things. The matter was taking more and more of DuncanÆs interest. The guards of the arena started walking towards the warrior, weapons at the ready. The impostor did not falter though, and he then brought both his hands to the side of the helmet, lifting it and throwing it to the ground, and in doing so, confirming DuncanÆs suspects. ôMy name is Natia! Natia Brasca!ö
First thing, the warrior wasnÆt a he, but a she. A woman, a female dwarf. Second, she wasnÆt a member of the caste, nor was she of any other caste or any house. The distinctive tattoo on her right cheek, barely brushed by a strand of sweaty red copper hair confirmed it. The arena thundered with outraged shouts. The grandmaster was furious. Duncan finally got up from his chair to better observe the warrior, who kept on staring in defiance, her blue eyes narrowed.
ôCastless! You insult the very nature of this proving!ö The grey bearded dwarf shouted, his whole body trembling with rage. ôGuards! Take thisà Filth away!ö He barked, and then walked away as the guards obeyed, his face contorted in a mask of pure disgust.
ôHold your men, I pray you.ö Duncan walked after him, stopping the dwarf dead in his tracks with his words. ôThis warrior has defeated the best you have to offer. Is this not what this Proving is for?ö
ôWe are honoured by your presence, Warden, but this Proving is not solely for you.ö The grandmaster turned around to address the Grey Warden directly, his tone becoming normal again. ôThere are laws which have governed this arena for a thousand years.ö His eyes narrowed again as he pointed at the woman standing in the middle of the arena again. ôThis woman is no warrior. She is castless, rejected by the ancestors. Her very footsteps pollute the stone. She has no place here!ö
ôExcept as your champion.ö Duncan replied and then turned away, having just found a good occasion with which to exercise the right of conscription.
--
It was later revealed that the woman had taken EverdÆs place after she found the warrior passed out for a matter of bets concerning her employer, the late criminal headmaster of the city of Orzammar. Late, because she killed him as she broke out of his headquartersÆ jail along with her partner. Natia Brasca is her name, and that was the second potential recruit I left Orzammar with, and I am pleased to write on these pages that both her and Duran Aeducan have survived the joining and joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens two months prior to this day.
It is a good thing, since weÆre going to need all the Grey Wardens available very soon. As I write, we are preparing for battle against the Darkspawn at Orzammar, and I fear that this may be the start of a new Blight. In the last few days I have journeyed again to press for more help from the Circle of Magi and to find new recruits. While the former objective has not been reached, I can again write of having been able to accomplish the second.
--
ôShe did it for love.ö
ôYouÆre a friend, but you neednÆt defend me any more.ö The young elf blinked at the chantry sisterÆs words but understood, and so obeyed. ôKnight-Commanderà Ià I was wrong. I was accomplice to aà A blood mage.ö The red-haired woman continued, and then approached Greagoir. ôI will accept whatever punishment you see fit. Evenà Even Aeonar.ö
ôGet her out of my sight.ö The old commander of the order of the Templars commanded, turning away from the woman as his subordinates took her away. A chantry sister that not only had helped a blood mage, but had also broken her vows of chastity, but his immediate concern was for the other mage involved. ôAnd you. You were in a repository full of magics that are locked away for a reason.ö
ôDid you take anything important from the repository?ö The First Enchanter Irving asked the young woman, who raised her head to reveal her pretty face, long straw-coloured hair pulled back in a small ponytail with two single bangs falling in front of her face, azure eyes adorned with blue eyeshade and the area around her right one adorned by a tattoo, staring back at the powerful mage.
ôYes, this staff. You can have it back if you like.ö She replied, earning a æHmphÆ from the Knight-Commander.
ôSome honesty, at last.ö He intended it more as mockery than a compliment, though. ôBut your antics have made a mockery of this circle! Ahà What are we to do with you?ö
ôDo what you like. I stand by my decision of helping Jowan.ö Those words took by surprise everyone in the room, templars, mages and Grey Warden alike. Greagoir was the first to recover.
ôYou helped a blood mage escape. All our prevention measures for naughtà Because of you!ö He seemed about ready to lose it.
ôKnight-Commander, if I mayàö That was the moment Duncan chose to cut in, having recovered from the effect of JowanÆs blood magic. Everyone's attention immediately focused on the Grey Warden. ôI am not only looking for mages to join the kingÆs army, IÆm also recruiting for the Grey Wardens. Irving spoke highly of this mage, and I would like her to join the WardensÆ ranks.ö
ôDuncan, this mage has assisted a maleficar, and showed a lack of respect for the CircleÆs rules.ö Irving intervened, knowing well that Greagoir was going to oppose the decision nonetheless.
ôShe is a danger. To all of us!ö The Templar barked, narrowing his eyes at the elf mage.
Though, Duncan had been impressed not by her skills or her honesty, but her boldness of a few seconds before when questioned about her actions. ôIt is a rare person who risks all for a friend in need.ö The Grey Warden voiced his opinion and his reasons. ôI stand by my decision. I will recruit this mage.ö
ôNo! I refuse to let this go unpunished!ö Greagoir lost it for real, this time, shouting his dissent out loud at both Irving and Duncan.
ôà If the Grey Wardens will have me, I will gladly go.ö The elf woman turned to Duncan and then bowed to him in sign of respect. ôI introduce myself again, Duncan. I am Neria.ö
--
Neria Kallian Tabris is her full name. She had been taken to the Circle Tower at a very young age and she doesnÆt remember much of her life before that, only that her family was from the Alienage. ThatÆs part of the reason I decided to bring her along to Denerim, where an old friend of mine lives in the Alienage.
We were told that we had arrived just in time for the joyous event of a wedding, that separates a child city elf from his adulthood, though the event was ruined by the son of the local Arl, who kidnapped the whole female half of the weddingÆs audience, including their brides. The two grooms did not stand this though, and they broke into the ArlÆs palace, where they freed the women.
The two arrived just to discover that they had been too late to protect their female cousin from the clutches of the young noble. The women came back, but the two grooms didn't. Shianni, one of the kidnapped women, was too shaken to speak coherently but she eventually managed to voice that her cousins had stayed behind, fighting the young son of the Arl and his friends while the women made their escape. This made for a harsh but necessary step in making young Neria comprehend her heritage.
The final promising recruit I found on the way back to Ostagar is once again an elf, but of another origin and upbringing. A clansman of the Dalish folk who has been unfortunate enough to chance upon a forgotten relic of the Tevinter Imperium, tainted by the DarkspawnÆs curse.
--
ôà I would be honoured, but how did this come about?ö The young elf asked, his calm attitude not faltering in the slightest at hearing the words of the Grey Warden who had come to warn his clan about the Darkspawn threat and had rescued him in the ruins, but he demanded explanations.
ôThe Darkspawn taint courses through your veins.ö Duncan answered truthfully, knowing fully well that even if the elfÆs constitution and will had aided him in overcoming the first assault of the taint, he would still succumb in the end. ôThat you recovered at all is remarkable, but eventually the taint will sicken and kill you, or worse. The Grey Wardens can prevent that, but it means joining us.ö
ôà Then I will join you.ö The dalish elf nodded in acknowledgement of DuncanÆs reason, visibly relaxing in the Grey WardenÆs presence.
ôI welcome you to the order.ö Duncan crossed his arms across his chest and bowed to the young archer, observing his long corvine hair pulled back in a ponytail, and his piercing, slightly narrowed onix eyes, and the flowing blood writing adorning his forehead, cheekbones and chin. ôIt is rare to have a Dalish amongst us, but they have always served with distinction.ö
ôI know youÆll do your clan proud, dalÆen.ö The keeper understood that this could be the last time their brother saw his clan, and as such knew that it was better to give to the child what was his right at that moment. She picked a small object from one of her pockets and handed him to the elf. ôTake this ring. It is your heritage, and will protect you against the darkness to come.ö
ôA valuable gift.ö Duncan commented, understanding the meaning of a clan member receiving something related to the elvesÆ long forgotten history. ôSoà Are you ready to go?ö
ô... Yes.ö The elf replied almost immediately.
ôThen say your farewells, and let us be off. We have much ground to cover.ö The whole Dalish clan joined in seeing their brother off. For the first time in centuries in Ferelden, a Dalish would take up the mantle of the Grey Wardens. His name was Theron, of the clan Mahariel.
--
I have arrived in Ostagar this morning with these two new recruits in tow. They are currently preparing themselves for the task preceding the joining. Even with their added strength, though, I still fear for the outcome of this battle. I wish the king would wait for reinforcement from Orlais, but teyrn Loghain isà
ôà Back! The king has no timeàö
ôHe will make time!ö Duncan stopped writing upon the small book he had opened upon a table, his concentration broken by shouts. He raised his head to be met with the visage of a young human man pushing past a soldier, heading for the tent of king Cailan.
ôà Before the storm one is supposed to have the calmàö Duncan closed the book and put it back in the pouch he kept on the back of his belt, managing to walk and stop the boy before he rushed inside the kingÆs tent and interrupted an already strenuous meeting between the regent and his general. ôPlease hold, young man. What is it that you desire of the king?ö
Duncan took the occasion to take in the manÆs appearance. Long black hair kept loose and green eyes, pink skin complexion. What caught his attention though was that he was incredibly dirty and bloody, and his armour sported a few cuts and relative injuries that looked roughly patched up and healed. The manÆs hair donned a classical twig between them, sign of his travels through the wilderness. ôIÆm Aedan Cousland, of the Couslands of Highever, second son of the teyrn! And I demand justice!ö
ôà Justice?ö Duncan tasted the word, understanding that there was a story behind it. ôI understandà But donÆt you think that the king would be a little put off fromà Your appearance?ö
ôMy appeaàö His expression was like he had just fallen out of a cloud, like he couldnÆt comprehend what Duncan was saying. Then, it downed on him and he lowered his head, gritting his teeth. ôà IÆve been travelling for ten daysà And before that, the fightàö
ôI understand that youÆve probably have urgent matters to deal with the kingà My lord Cousland.ö Duncan continued, and the mention of his family name seemed to calm the young man down enough for him to remember that he was also pretty tired and injured. ôBut donÆt you think we should get you patched up and cleaned? Also, when was the last time you ate something?ö
ôà Two days ago. I-IÆve been travelling non-stop for ten daysà After I escaped the siegeàö The human noble brought a hand to his face, as suddenly the weight and tiredeness of ten days of travelling with scarce rest and eating invaded his body all at once. Duncan nodded in acknowledgement and put a hand on his left shoulder, while he used the other to dismiss the soldiers.
ôCome. WeÆll take you to the healers so that they can get you clean and patch you up. Then, we will find you something to eat. Then, when you've recovered and calmed down, you can try this again. Sounds reasonable enough to you?ö The young man turned to Duncan slowly and nodded, his strength now completely dissipated, everything that had been holding him on his feet being his rage.
-Breakline-
ôI am sorry to be bearer of bad news, lady Wynneàö
ôTruly, I would have never expected something like this from you, Neria. You were always such a good, dutiful girlàö Living to such an old age had brought the Circle mage to see lots of things and to know most of the apprentices in the tower. Some died in the Harrowing, others escaped and turned Apostates and were then hunted down by Templars. ôBut while I do not approve of you breaking the CircleÆs rulesà I can understand your reasons. I do not approveà But I understand. Also, the fact that youÆve been chosen as a Grey Wardenà I believe it a sign.ö
ôà ThatÆs more than I could ask for.ö Neria let out a small sigh that she herself didnÆt know she was holding. When she, Duncan and the Dalish folk they met on the road had arrived at Ostagar, she had immediately sought out the Circle mages stationed there, knowing for Wynne to be among them. ôHow does your preparations here fare, lady Wynne? I heard from Duncan that the king believes he can end this with one battle.ö
ôSuch is his beliefà But I do not share it, child. Nor does the teyrn.ö Wynne shook her head, bringing a hand to her forehead as the young elf sat beside her, removing her staff from her back. ôDuncan is convinced that this is a new Blight, and that as such, an Archdemon is to appearà If that happens, I donÆt think our numbers will be enough to win the battle.ö
ôà IÆm anxious. I joined the Grey Warden to avoid incarceration and also to have a chance to live outside the tower, butàö The young elf woman fingered her oak wood staff, trying to find some comfort from it, to no avail. ôSuch a big battleà It scares me.ö
ôWell, itÆs understandable, but you can find solace in your role as a mage.ö Wynne smiled and put a hand on the girlÆs left shoulder, to reassure her. ôGrey Warden or not, putting you on the front lines would be a foolÆs choice, and Duncan is no fool, right?ö
ôà Yes. ItÆs true.ö The logical line of thought seemed to calm down the elven mage, as a tiny smile made its way to her lips. ôStill... I'm not a Grey Warden yet. Duncan talked about a ritual called the Joining, and on that note...ö Neria's gaze moved to the dalish elf Duncan had recruited in the woods, who was sitting on a rock, piercing eyes observing everything in his surroundings. It was the mark of a hunter. Neria approached her former mentor slowly, lowering her voice. ôTheron, the Dalish, has been poisoned with the darkspawn taint.ö
ôOh... That is much unfortunate. But why are you telling me this?ö Wynne knew of the effects darkspawn blood could have on someone, poisoning their body and mind, slowly bringing them to death.
ôDuncan has promised the Dalish salvation if he joined the Grey Wardens.ö Wynne just nodded, prompting the young woman to go on. That Grey Wardens were immune to the Taint wasn't exactly a secret. ôSo that leads me to think that... The Joining, becoming a Grey Warden makes you immune to the Taint. If that is so, why...ö
ôWhy don't they extend more invitations into their order, you say. That is a question that has been made before, young lady, and never has it been met with a good answer. Well, I can only say this, my dear...ö Wynne shook her head slowly from side to side. ôMany have tried researching a cure for the Taint, but with scarce results, mostly because it has always been hard capturing and keeping darkspawns captive, when their very presence pollutes the earth they walk on, and you know of the stories and the legends. I believe that gaining the immunity to such a disease, magical or otherwise... It comes with a price. Risks. I can only theorize that the Joining is similar to the Harrowing in the aspect that not all who go through it survive to tell the tale, and similarly it is kept secret for such reasons.ö
ôI-I see... That would make sense.ö Again, the girl seemed shaken by the news, much to Wynne's chagrin.
Neria had always had an habit of preparing herself with dedication to tests to come, but there was the risk of her becoming unsure and a bit shaken when that still left her in the dark, and that could impair her actions. She had a tendency to feel scared when everything wasn't under her control. It had been like this for the Harrowing as well, probably.I wonder what has transpired in the Fade, during her test...
ôIf you'll excuse me, now... I think I'm gonna go lie down for a bit. We've travelled a lot, and tomorrow... I don't know what awaits tomorrow.ö The last part of of the sentence barely a whisper, Neria bowed a bit too deeply to Wynne, almost knocking the elder mage on the head with the staff she was carrying on her back before walking away
ô... That girl isn't ready for such a battle.ö Wynne shook her head in disapproval instinctively, knowing that the more the girl approached the day of the battle, the more she would become shaken.
-Breakline-
ô... I'm the only one.ö Just as he had foreseen, his eyes hadn't been laid on a single pointed ear nor a set of sharp, elven features. Apart the mage from the Circle, he was the only elf in the camp, not that he expected otherwise.
Duncan had told him that he was the first Dalish to join the Grey Wardens in a very long time, and he guessed that city elves hadn't been a good source of recruits in the later years, and he was certain that the human army wasn't that keen on recruiting slaves from the Alienage into their regular troops.
Maybe it's for the better, though. Theron thought, narrowing his eyes. There was a certain degree of dislike between the two groups, or better it was the Dalish that disliked the city elves. The two factions now shared nothing but their looks and also those had probably changed in the decades. He had never met a flat-ear, Neria notwithstanding because she had spent most of her life elsewhere.
He didn't know what would happen if he met one, but just the thought of an elf not remembering and particularly not caring for his heritage, bowing his head to the humans' every whim and order, flat in spirit, disgusted him. His facial tattoo itched as always when he started to get irritated, prompting him to scratch his chin with his right index finger.
He hadn't had any problems with Duncan because he didn't resent humans enslaving elves, but for their City cousins to allow it. He would kill himself before allowing someone to break his spirit and reduce him to a mere pet. Speaking of pets...
He focused his attention on a less taking subject, his sensitive ears catching the loud barks coming from the camp's kennel. It was always fascinating to meet new species of animals and plants, and he had never seen Mabari hounds. He was curious and would like to see one up from up close.
There was the slight problem that humans didn't trust Dalish as much as Dalish didn't trust humans, and he doubted they would let him near their prized dogs any time soon. His gaze was drawn to the nearby door of the camp, which was opening to let a scouting party back in. He noticed something as unusual as himself in the small group: two dwarves walking in front of the others.
-Breakline-
ôThat was a fine show of swordsmanship, lady Brasca.ö The other female in the group, a tall human female complimented the dwarf female, who smiled smugly as she rotated a dagger in her hand a couple times before placing it back in its sheath.
ôThanks, but really, it was nothing.ö Natia shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. ôOnce you face them a few times, darkspawn aren't that terrible to fight any more. They're a danger mostly because of their numbers and the taint. With even numbers, they're not more dangerous than other opponents.ö
ôSays the castless who has been fighting them for two months.ö The male dwarf commented, earning a glare directed at the back of his head from Natia.
ôOf course, lord Aeducan showed us a fine fight as well.ö One of the male soldiers complimented Duran, trying to make him cheer up or at least persuading him to be civil. That scouting tour was the first time he had met the dwarf, but he had heard from other soldiers and Grey Wardens that he was arrogant as few, and self-centered as even fewer.
ôThat's only natural. I'm Aeducan.ö He simply responded, and the male had right then the confirmation that they were right, even if he had had some other hints while the scouting party was out in the woods. The male Dwarf had always been walking in front of them and had only talked to them to advise them of dangers or traces. When they eventually encountered a group of darkspawn, one of the soldiers almost got skewered. Risks of battle, but the point was that he could have avoided it. Duran's own opponent was on its back, stunned by the hit he had gotten in with his battle hammer. He could have easily covered the soldier standing right by his side, but he preferred to go in for the kill on his own darkspawn.
Thankfully Natia had also noticed the young female human's predicament, and while gutting open her own opponent had let one of her daggers fly and plant itself in the chest of the Hurlock she was confronted, creating a perfect opening for the soldier to chop the darkspawn's head right off its neck. Opposed to the former noble, the former cut-throat had immediately warmed up to the military ambient and to her position in the order. After a whole life spent watching her back to be sure to wake up the next morning and do things morally ambiguous at best, it was a nice feeling to have someone watching it, do what she did best and get praised for it, and she tried her best to be a team player, already used to it since group made strength, in the slums of Orzammar. It was good to have enemies like the darkspawn, in her mind. No one would ever think badly of anyone killing them, first in the line herself.
The best thing though, was the equality. In an army, in an order like the Wardens, there weren't castes, there weren't social levels, there was just a chain of command. Her superiors expected her to do her job and they respected her for it, nothing like Orzammar, where even her becoming the champion of a proving had been looked down and the title stripped from her because of a stupid mark on her face and her parents' identity. Having become a Grey Warden was the best thing ever happened to her, Blight be damned.
If having become a Grey Warden had been almost therapeutic for Natia, the same couldn't be said for Duran. The former noble of Orzammar hated the circumstances that had brought on his joining, hated being away form his home, hated having been stripped of his rank. The thing he wanted the most was to go back to Orzammar and find a way to make his brother pay and gain back his status, but he couldn't. He had taken a vow, and he would stay with the Wardens till he repaid his debt to Duncan.
ôYou were an Aeducan. You've been stripped of your rank, remember? Heh, you must be the worst noble I've ever seen.ö That sentence from Natia made Duran stop walking, stiffen and turn around, slowly, his eyes narrowed dangerously, but the female dwarf just ignored it and smirked maliciously. ôI mean, most nobles do these kind of things, but they're good enough to not be discovered or to see it coming. Either you've really did it and you couldn't even cover your own tracks, or your brother managed to trick the whole city and sod you and your own father.ö
ô... I've been patient enough with you, castless wench.ö Duran slowly finished turning around and gripped his weapon with both hands, bringing it to the front and slamming it to the ground with a loud noise, his eyes narrowed and glaring in the direction of Natia. ôI'm going to wipe off that smirk along with your head, clean off your shoulders.ö
ôHeh, fine by me.ö Much faster than her would-be opponent, Natia drew her own weapons, rotating them in her hands twice before grabbing them firmly, blades down. ôI've wanted to kick your exiled ass since ever.ö
ôWoah! Stop!ö The other soldiers grabbed onto the two dwarves' arms to try and keep them from attacking each other. In Duran's case, they need two more people helping them to stop him from moving.
-Breakline-
ôOw.ö
ôSorry, but... It was quite deep inside.ö The nurse justified the sudden sting of pain the young human male had felt with those words and by showing to him the wood splinter she had just pulled out of a cut on his back, completely soaked in blood. ôSee?ö
ô... That was in my back? How the hell didn't I bleed to death?! It's as big as my pinky!ö The young man shouted in outrage, which earned an amused smile from the nurse which then proceeded to apply another layer of ointment on the injury and then started bandaging his torso.
ôFortunately, it got stuck in an oblique position. Your injuries weren't deep, but you had way too many. The ointment I applied should heal them by tomorrow.ö She gave one last sharp tug at the bandages to check their resistances, and then nodded to herself for a job well done. ôI'm not saying war is a good thing, but having mages around is very useful, don't you think?ö
ôHmm, I'd say so. It doesn't even burn.ö The black haired man stretched and then flexed one of his muscles, testing to see if they were anything else but tired and sore. Content with the results, he then let out a prolonged sigh. ôI wish I could have enjoyed this more.ö
ôHuh?ö The nurse voiced her confusion, and suddenly the young man, younger than her for sure, suddenly got up from his sitting position, turned around and gently grasped her hands with his own, bringing them in front of his chest. ôA-Ah! My lord...!ö
ôYour soft, skilled hands, massaging and probing my body for injuries, resting a few seconds more than needed on certain points of my back and chest... So sensual, so beautiful.ö The woman's face turned scarlet at those words, and even redder as he brought the hands to his lips and kissed them softly. ôIf I was in my normal state of mind and if I wasn't so tired, I would make love to you right now in the first secluded spot I would be able to find.ö
The woman gasped at the forwardness of the man, who then gently let go of her hands to place his hands on her shoulders. ôAlas, I'm not able to, right now... This I promise you. I will keep my promise if I manage to recover before leaving this battlefield.ö
ôI... You... Eeeeh...ö The woman lowered her gaze from those emerald eyes, only to end up on his chest, which indeed, she had maybe indulged in probing a bit too much, before.
ôA token of my affection, to seal my vow.ö The man then leaned forward and kissed her on the right cheek, making her whole face as red as the dress she was wearing. He then released her, turned her gently around and pushed her slowly in the opposite direction. ôI don't want to keep you from your duties and I need my rest. I hope to see you soon.ö
The woman just started walking in the direction, and she wouldn't stop till she hit someone, even if he didn't see that. Aedan just put on the common clothes the nurse had provided him with and then let himself fall back first onto his bedding, too tired to do much else but stare at the sky and think. Think about what had transpired in those last few days.
It all had happened so fast. At first it was all so normal, except for the fact that his father and his older brother were preparing to go to war with darkspawn, for a change. His father had left him in charge of the whole region of Highever, basically. More responsibility than what he would have liked, but he was going to have his mother's help, and he hardly risked getting annoyed. He had Gilmore and his nephew to keep him company, and Oriana was fun to talk to as well. His brother had really found a jewel to be his wife.
Things were looking up even more thanks to Lady Landra's visit. The woman was a huge flirt when drunk and she tended to always have a drink too much, but what really spoke 'entertainment' to him was her lady-in-waiting. ô... Sweet Iona...ö He had enjoyed the company of elves before, but there was just something to that woman that drove him to her. Probably her eyes. Or her attitude, so shy, sweet, demure, such a delicate flower... Such a gruesome end.
He gritted his teeth as the scene flashed before him one again. He should have stopped her. His hound had been growling at the door, he knew that meant only trouble, and yet he didn't stop her from opening that door. Why didn't I stop her...?
And then, his hound. His oldest and most loyal friend. After his mother, his friends, every person he had grown up with, he had lost him too. He gritted his teeth as he remembered how he had been running after a rabbit only to fall down a slope as the humus under his paws gave way as he chased the small animal on the edge of a cliff. He had lost one day searching for him, at no avail. He had to abandon him, like he had been forced to abandon his parents.
ô... Don't be stupid.ö He gripped his hands into fists, covering his eyes with his right forearm. ôYou would have died. You know that your mother was right. Someone had to survive, they wanted you to be that someone. They loved you.ö He only hoped his brother was in the camp. He to talk to him, and soon. Tell him everything, talk to the king. ô... Tomorrow.ö His eyelids slowly slid down, now feeling as heavy as lead. I'm just... So tired...
He would only notice later when he woke up that it was the first time ever since he had lost his Mabari that he didn't cry himself to sleep.
