Alistair checked the position of the sun in the sky. They had been in the Korcari Wilds a little over an hour by now, but were close to their goal. A ruined structure was up ahead, which could only be the tower containing the warden cache Duncan had mentioned. He glanced ahead.

Ser Jory seemed to be the most reluctant of the three recruits he was accompanying. He was slightly behind the other two, his footfalls slightly slower. He had seen this reactions to the tests during his own Joining. A man from Denerim, a knight like himself, had shown more and more reluctance as they had gathered their vials of blood, and had nearly refused upon learning they must drink the blood of the things. It hadn't been a surprise to Alistair that he had not survived, all things considered. Still, the poor man had obviously died in pain.

Daveth, meanwhile, was moving with determination, clearly wanting to get this done and get back to camp. Alistair still didn't see the potential Duncan apparently had when he brought the man here, but he wasn't one to question Duncan's opinion. And then, there was Brenna.

The elven woman was just ahead of Daveth. There actually seemed to be a little rivalry between the two rogues. He had to admit, when they had first met he had, again, questioned Duncan's sanity. She seemed so slight and fragile, like just being roared at by a hurlock would cause her to fall down or break. But then they had entered the Wilds, and he had seen her in action. Her life with the Dalish had obviously honed her skills. She fired an arrow quicker then he had seen before, and her prowess with the twin blades on her back was strong.

He also had to admit that she was beautiful. Her dark brown, braided hair and blue-grey eyes contrasted each other, and her lightly tanned skin showed the outdoor life she had lived before she came here. The light brown tattoos on her face were subtle, but there. Yet she seemed shy and cautious around these strangers, the human men and women. As a Dalish, he imagined she had barely interacted with humans before, except for the odd poacher.

As they reached the top of the hill, they were accosted by the biggest number of darkspawn they had seen yet. The three recruits took them out with relative ease. There was no denying their skill. It was only what was in their hearts that would decide their fates. Yet he found himself hoping, foolishly, that the elven woman would survive.

Brenna was stunned. She had been reluctant to come to Ostagar, missing her clan so much already that it was like physical pain. When she had learnt of the true nature of the joining ritual, a voice in the back of her mind had said: Well, that's you dead then...

There had been no doubt in her mind that this would not work. She was already consumed by the taint, weakened by it. Surely taking the darkspawn blood into her body would simply make the poison in her system more potent, and finish what had been started.

She had guessed Jory might die – his reluctance at the tests and rituals had, to her, shown his true colours – but she still felt shock at the nature of his demise. Daveth's death, however, had shocked and scared her. She found herself wondering what that death would feel like.

She had taken the chalice of blood from Duncan, barely hearing his words, and drank deeply. And then... it was as though her head was on fire, then her entire body. She had seen that creature (whatever it had been), and then darkness. Then she had awoken slowly, with Duncan and Alistair looking down at her. Duncan had seem calm and collected, Alistair... there had been relief on his face.

Now, she was having what tasted like rabbit stew, sat by herself inside the food tent. Dark was gradually settling in, and she knew that the plan the king had described during the meeting would soon be coming. She wondered whether King Cailin truly believed she and Alistair were 'the best', as he had said, or whether his words had been empty.

Her experiences with humans, up until the past few days, had been naught but ill. Lecherous market traders, drunken groups of peasants and hunters in the forest had all given her negative views of humans. They only seemed to want to hurt and belittle the elves, especially those of her clan. And the flat ears seemed just as bad. She had heard the tales of them living close together in tiny little dwellings, amongst the sprawl of cities. She couldn't imagine living in such conditions.

And yet... Duncan had helped her. Taken her back to her clan when she would have been unable to go back by herself. Offered her a place within the Wardens, believing in her abilities. And Alistair, the man who had accompanied the recruits into the Wilds, had been friendly with her, joked with her, and had seemed genuinely friendly. There had to be a few good eggs in the basket, she supposed.

The sound of laughter caused her to glance up. A group of four men had just entered the tent. The crest of two of their shields showed them to be Grey Wardens. One of them was Alistair. As they went and collected their own bowls of stew, one of the other men glanced her way and spotted her. Brenna quickly lowered her gaze.

They moved to a table a few along from her own, and sat down. Brenna couldn't hear what was being said, but saw them glance in her direction once or twice. 'Curious about the knife ear, are you?', she found herself thinking.

They finished before her, and got up to leave. However, before he did so, Alistair looked back and gave her a nod and a small smile. After a moment, Brenna returned the gesture. With that, Alistair left the tent along with his comrades. He really was a curious human.