AN: I don't own diddly-squat of Dragon Age or its characters. I just like to play around with 'em.

~There were four who marched to war,

Packs upon their backs.

The memories of the past behind,

As they fled toward the attacks.

Destiny had other ideas in store,

For the brave Wardens,

Even though all were reluctant

For the task they were sworn in.~

"Alistair, if you keep antagonizing the mages, it will be that much harder for us to try to be mediators for the templars. Tensions are already high enough; the last thing we need right now is dissention amongst the ranks."

Alistair, the newest recruit into the Grey Warden ranks, managed to look mildly contrite before his brows knitted together and a look of consternation clouding the normally jovial face. "But Duncan, these mages know of my past. Even though now I am a Warden, they do not believe I am impartial. I will always be the failed templar recruit to them."

Duncan frowned slightly, conceding to the fact. Before being scouted and inducted into the Grey Wardens, Alistair had been undergoing training to become a templar. The young man had surprising skill as a warrior and, with a little grooming and work, could become an unstoppable force. The only thing he fancied himself a joker. Admittedly the cheerful nature and jokes were harmless and added a lighthearted air in an otherwise dreary occupation, but the Grand Cleric had not been amused or as patient as Duncan. However, the only thing the woman hated more than "inappropriate humor" and "blatant disobedience" was a recruit leaving her clutches. Until Duncan invoked the Right of Conscription, the Grand Cleric had vehemently denied Alistair's leave.

It was a good thing, Alistair leaving. He had been bitterly unhappy and, if he kept doing what he did, would probably have been killed by the Cleric. Damned Shrew.

"While that may be true Alistair, the Wardens must rise above petty squabbling. Our job is often a thankless one, but sometimes we are the only thing standing in the way of total obliteration and chaos. We are the swords of justice and the shields of truth. Never forget where you came from but do not let past deeds interfere. Now, go apologize to the mages and then complete the tasks they ask of you. We will be marching for the Korcari Wilds soon, and King Cailan will be expecting us."

Alistair sighed softly before nodding his assent. "Yes, Duncan. I will do as you ask." The young warrior turned away, but stopped after only a step. He turned his head towards his new mentor and the man who saved him from a life of misery. "Duncan, do you really think this is the beginning of a Blight?"

Duncan looked into his eyes. Despite his prowess with a blade, Alistair's soft brown eyes were innocent and curious, much like a child. Duncan felt a slight pang of regret for ruining that innocence. Softness had no place in the Grey Wardens and soon those eyes would harden into those of a true warrior, a man who had seen the worst of humanity and yet still chose to lift his blade against tyranny and injustice. Duncan knew as he had done so for many years. But that was why joining was no easy task. Only the strong could bear the knowledge without crumbling.

"Yes Alistair, I am certain the time has come upon us. I have seen the signs in the number of Darkspawn sightings. I can also feel it in my bones. That is why I must go and bring us more recruits. We simply do not have enough Wardens in Ferelden at the moment, and the missive I sent might not make it in time. If the worst comes to pass, we must have more men to line the front. Without a Grey Warden…all is lost."

A solemn look passed over Alistair's face. He had heard the tales like many young children, but to actually face an archdemon? The thought chilled his blood to the core. "But nobody believes us, do they? I overheard a couple of soldiers saying that Loghain Mac Tir has opposed the idea and is confident that the day can be won fairly quickly. King Cailan grants Loghain an ear because of both his parentage and marriage; how is he onboard?"

Duncan rubbed his chin, feeling the coarse dark hairs of his beard brush calloused fingers. "As much as Cailan respects Loghain, he is not Maric. Their bond may be strong but Cailan is not level-headed. He can be a bit brash at times, and he sees this as an opportunity to make a name for himself in the history books. Having a father like King Maric would be hard to follow footsteps with and after Rowan's death…well, Cailan wants to prove his worth as a man, and as king."

Alistair nodded thoughtfully. "I understand that more than anyone, perhaps save Cailan himself. I just worry. He has no idea about me, but as my half-brother…"

"King Cailan will be fine. It is our job to protect him, and even if we failed Loghain will surely have a plan in place. He is a fine strategist and, despite his misgivings about a Blight, he is no fool. He is not so cocky that he will not protect the King of Ferelden."

Duncan felt a small amount of pity for the young recruit. Alistair truly had a pure heart and not knowing your own father was hard. Believing your mom dead as well made it even harder, and even though Duncan wished he could divulge the truth about Fiona…it just was not his place. Fiona and Maric had both made him promise to keep the secret till his dying day. Duncan was not too sure what happened to Fiona after she managed to cheat the results of the Joining, although he was sure the elf was somewhere in the thick of the mage/templar scandal. He had been envious when he first found out about their trysts, even though it had not been much of a surprise. He had seen Maric's longing looks at the elf, and had heard briefly about Katriel. Duncan had secretly harbored feelings for Fiona himself, although nobody ever found out about it. It was long ago and the past had no place in the future. Anyway, an elven queen was not possible and the two were never able to find peace in one another.

"Alright Alistair, enough talk. I must go forth and bring in the recruits. We have six recruits that I would like to gather. Warden Niles is bringing in Ser Daveth and Ivy is hopefully getting Ser Jory."

"Who are the other four?"

"Reyn Cousland from Highever if her father will allow it, although I am skeptical. But she is said to be skilled with a blade and with her upbringing, she will be a great addition. Then I will going to the Dalish and helping out Keeper Marethari and hopefully find a suitable elf to be a Warden. The Alienage will also offer some potential prospects and then there are a few mages at the Circle I have heard about. Surely one will be perfect for the candidacy."

"Well, good luck. You sure you will not need my help?"

Duncan smiled, feeling a fondness for the boy. If he ever had a son…well. "No my dear man, your training needs to be completed and I do not want this recruitment affecting that. Jory and Daveth will need you anyway when they come in to help them with any questions or concerns. Just…do not mention the Joining, or anything too revealing yet. All will be revealed when the rest are brought in."

Alistair saluted, a small grin tweaking his lips. "Yes, we would not want them to run away before joining would we? Or telling secrets like schoolgirls."

Whiskey orbs hardened. "They will not have chance to spill secrets. Once chosen you cannot back out. Failure to adhere to this rule…"

Alistair lost some of the light in his mischievous eyes. "Yeah. I remember. Barak still gets this look in his eyes when he talks about his induction. And I remember the guy who died at mine…"

"We all do. That is why we wear the necklaces, to remember those lost in the line of duty. The motto is more than just a saying: it is a way of life. The creed is what we live and breathe and I will uphold it like the Warden Commander before me."

"Let us hope then that the six recruits make it out in one piece."

Duncan fervently hoped so. If his gut feeling ended up being right…they would need as many Wardens as possible.