Chapter One: Long Way From Home

The young mage stood for a moment, staring out onto the lake. He looked around him, at the place he once called a home. He spent his life there, the people inside had raised him since he could remember. They were his protectors, guardians and mentors. The closest he ever knew of a family. This was his life, his home. All that didn't matter now, how quickly things changed. The certainty, the protection, were now gone. Once he stepped beyond those gates, he was to never return. He would no longer be welcome in the Circle of Magi.

Warned his whole life he was to always live in the Tower and would never be safe elsewhere, he feared the change. But despite his terror, there was curiosity. A wonder to the life the Templars never offered. He would not be seen as a danger to people, and would not be hunted. He would be free to practice magic in public. He would not be hated. Not by his once protectors, at least. He carried with him the few possessions he owned. Some robes, boots, clothes and his many books. His staff was confiscated from him, to atone for his crimes. For helping a friend.

"Here, take this." he turned to see his rescuer. Duncan, of the Grey Wardens.

If he was not there, the boy would no longer be breathing. The man was very large, his skin an olive complexion. His hair was deep black and he had a short beard. The young mage had never seen anyone like him. Something about him seemed foreign, mysterious. But what did he know of distant lands, only what he read on the pages of his many books.

"First Enchanter wanted you to have it." He handed the young mage an Enchanter staff, possibly the one taken from him.

"But, Knight Commander said I was to leave without one… for my crimes…" the boy's voice was shaky and quiet. He twisted his hands into knots and squeezed. He avoided eye contact.

"Irving believes you deserve better, but we best leave now before anyone grows the wiser. Come, young Amell."

The mage cringed at the name. Everyone knew better in the tower than to call him that. That was no longer his name, not since the moment he stepped foot in the Circle. What ties did he own to the family that wished his death?

"Please, do not call me that…."

"I apologies, I was not told your first name."

"Dorian."

There was a good chance this was not even his proper name. A child born of Kirkwall, his name was hard to pronounce. The Templars who collected him struggled to articulate the noble name his parents gave him. They did the best they could. So there was a probability Dorian was a different interpretation of his real name. This didn't matter to him. Most of his life he was Dorian, he would remain so until he died.

The two boarded the small boat and crossed Lake Calenhad. Dorian vaguely remembered the only time he had ever crossed it. It was roughly fifteen years ago. He was such a small boy, pale faced and frightened. He had traveled months over the seas and reached the docks. There the Templars caring for him took him to this very boat. He had arrived with several other children, all from different places. One in particular, would not leave him alone. This boy, became his only friend. He suppressed the memory, he did not want to think of the man who betrayed him. Left him to die, or worse.

He stared down into the water. Taking in the reflection he saw. His thin face, pale and gaunt stared back at him. His short scruffy black hair hung in his eyes, unkempt and uneasy to tame. He brushed the hair out of his eyes, his bright blue eyes, the eyes he was once told belonged to his mother. Often told they were unnaturally bright, he thought them his only unique feature. His ears poked out to the sides awkwardly, as they always did. He had the slightest hint of stubble, cursing himself for not shaving earlier. He hated to look untidy. He looked like a typical mage, awkward and pale. Nothing special, or heroic. Not what he thought a Warden should look like. Duncan, he was how a hero should look.

I won't last a week.

"We will take a caravan waiting for us at the docks. We will be travelling south through the Hinterlands, to the ruins of Ostagar on the edges of the Korcari Wilds…."Duncan began his history lesson, much to Dorian's surprise and he had not uttered a word sooner. He seemed far away as he spoke. "The Tevinter Imperium built Ostagar long ago to prevent the Wilders from invading the Northern Lowlands. It is fitting we shall make our stand there, even if we face a different foe in that forest." Duncan looked over to the boy, his eyes returning to the present.

"It will be a long journey, is there anything you require? We will have food and preparations, but if there is anything further you need just request it." Duncan smiled at his companion. He seemed strict, and yet warm.

"Uh, no I am fine… thank you…" he paused. "What is at Ostagar?"

"The begging of the Blight." Duncan's eyes hardened, he turned away. Possibly returning to where he was a moment before.

Dorian knew all too well about the Blight. Even a sheltered life, the mages knew all there was to know of the evil the lurked beyond. More times than not, they were blamed by the Templars for causing the Blight. As it was the Mages of Tevinter who corrupted the world, and unleashed… the darkspawn. It was also those very same mages, who damned ones like Dorian to a life of imprisonment. They had ruined many lives, and their creations continued to ruin more.

Evil, twisted monsters the darkspawn were corrupted souls, tortured and unable to leave the earth. Rejected by the Fade itself.

Thinking of the monsters of nightmares, the mage began to tremble. He was to fight creatures of pure destruction, pure fear. He had never faced any dangers, none that his mind could not overcome. Being a mage, he endured dangers mages needed to worry about. Demons, the undead, occasional possessed creatures. Things his natural abilities could easily handle. Darkspawn seemed like a bad dream, something he didn't know how to prepare for.

Dorian was to help defeat them, and the Blight? He was expected to risk it all and help save the world? How? He barely knew how to speak in an audible tone and he was to be thrown into battle and thwart danger. Duncan assured him he would not be in the front line of battles, he would just be in the distance helping where he could. He was still terrified. He had never crossed Lake Calenhad, and now he was being sent to what he thought was an inevitable doom. He argued with his mind to not attempt a daring escape back to the tower, believing being Tranquil wasn't as bad as everyone assumed.

Maybe a life of oppression is the only way… At least I was safe, if I kept my head down. No wonder no one ever offered me this! By the Maker, I would have run and hid right then and there!

Oh yes Dorian, heroic indeed. Soon enough many a lady will swoon and fall at your mighty feet! Oh, Hero of Ferelden!

Stepping off the boat, Dorian took in the view. The docks hadn't changed in all those years. He felt like he was five once again. Mentally, he was as scared as a small child. He could feel his knees buckle.

Duncan paid for the horse and carriage. A tall man greeted him, he had reddish hair and a long beard. He spoke in a strange accent Dorian had never heard before.

"Who's the lad?" the man pointed at Dorian and smiled cheerfully.

"Ah, this my friend is Dorian Amell of the Circle of Magi. He will be joining us to Ostagar. Dorian, this is Angus, he is a fellow Grey Warden." Dorian slightly bowed, as he felt was customary. The boy had no idea how to greet people of authority.

"Ha-ha! I like this one Duncan, boy's got some respect! Needna' bother though Laddy. Soon enough we shall be blood brothers! He's a bit scrawny for a Warden though, yer sure he can handle himself?"

"Fastest record of a Harrowing, First Enchanters personal apprentice, youngest mage known to have greater skills than most in the Circle. Fought more demons than you and I have ever considered. I'm sure he will be fine." Duncan shot a reassuring smile at Dorian.

Once the pleasantries were through, they boarded the caravan. Dorian had never seen horses up close before. He gently petted both before boarding. Duncan and Angus rode at the front, Dorian sat under the canvas roof. He was told they would reach Ostagar within a few days. They would only stop by nightfall, mostly to let the horses rest. Within the first hour, Dorian wished they would stop sooner. He was beginning to feel severely ill.

"See Duncan, this is why yer don't recruit tower kids. They haven't the stomach for travel."

"Sorry, I'm just… adjusting…" Dorian spluttered out, trying to hold his stomach in place.

"You do not need to apologize, Angus is just mocking."

As the time passed, he seemed to grow used to the swaying motion. Eventually they stopped to make camp. Duncan went off to scout the area, leaving Angus alone with the recruit. Angus was easy going, he didn't seem angry or severe. His appearance was a little unnerving, as he was the size of an ogre. But he had a gentle face, hidden behind the fox living on his chin.

"So, Laddy, why are yee here?"

"Sorry?"

"Don't be sorry Lad, why are yer here? Why do yer want to be a Grey Warden?"

"I… don't… to be honest…" thinking he surely would be scolded at, Dorian flinched slightly. The big man simply placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Ah, I see. I have a similar tale, no doubt. I didna' want to be a Grey Warden. I had no choice. Me and Duncan, we go way back. We were conscripted together."

"Conscripted?"

"It's when a Grey Warden claims right to take someone into custody. Conscript them into being a Grey Warden."

"Oh, I see." He recalled this was how Duncan saved his life.

"I was a wee lad, maybe younger than yer are. Me family owned a large farm outside of Denerim. I grew up in Starkhaven though, a land far away from Ferelden, that's why I have a muddy accent. Anyway. Many years we lived on that farm. It was a happy life. I miss it…" the big man looked as though he was about to cry.

Dorian unsure what to do, sat motionless. He could barely express himself, so he found it unsettling that a stranger would be so open with him.

"Anyway, when I was a bit older, me father suggested I join the army. I thought that seemed pretty good. And so I tried to. But it wasn't that easy, in order to afford an enrolment into the king's army, I had to work several jobs in Denerim. One of my jobs was being a worker in the market place. I helped run an Orlesian woman's store. I hated the hag, she was grouchy and rude. One day, I thought I would teach her a lesson. She had just ripped off a young lady for a shabby pair of silken shoes. Charged the poor girl more than they were worth. When the woman wasn't looking, I snatched her coin purse and returned it to the young girl. Unfortunately, I was neither a swift nor agile thief." Angus burst out laughing at the memory. "I couldn't outrun the guards, so I clobbered 'em. Luckily for me, a Grey Warden was in the town that day. He saw my skills, and conscripted me, much to me bosses distress. And here I am…"

The big man suddenly burst in a thunderous laugh, a joke Dorian was unfamiliar with. "Funny how they always seem to be there at the right place at exactly the right time, wonder how they do it."

Dorian nodded, thanking the man for sharing with him. Even though he felt awkward, he enjoyed knowing that little more about this stranger. He was curious to know all he could. He spent his life with the same people, the same faces each day, the same histories, the same secrets. Nothing was private or hidden in the Circle. To meet someone he knew nothing about, who could be making his life up, it intrigued him. He had to take his word that what he said was the truth.

"Did this happen, for Duncan as well?"

"Hmm? Oh, not really. But, his story isn't mine to tell Laddy. I would say ask him, but he don't really share much. You can ask, but he probably just say it is a story for another time. He is a private man, Duncan. So, what's yer story Lad? Or are yee like Duncan, too private to share?" He winked at Dorian.

Dorian feeling as though it only fair, would share his story. But only the parts he was willing to.

"I was to be killed, for aiding a blood mage's escape…" he spoke mater-of-fact like.

Angus looked at the young mage, completely shocked at what he heard. It was apparent even outside the Circle, this was not okay.

"And did yee?"

"At the time, I did not think he was." He paused. "He was my friend. He claimed he wanted to be free, to marry the girl he was in love with. The girl was a Chantry sister." Angus's face widened, the scandal continued.

"Bleeding hell Laddy, what was going through yer mind?"

"I did not want to see my friend killed, or the girl. I don't know why I did it, I just did."

Dorian tried to remember exactly what was going through his mind. He knew it was wrong, he knew it was risky, yet he did it. He even had a chance to own up to Irving, but he didn't. He was a fool, this cost him everything. Well, what he assumed was everything.

"So what happened, to yer friend?"

"We destroyed his falactory..."

"Falactor-what?" Angus looked confused. Dorian remembered this was not a fellow mage.

"It is a flask of blood, taken from us when we arrive at the Circle. It can aid Templars in finding us, should we ever escape. After we destroyed it, they went to leave, but were captured. Someone alerted them we had broken into the storage quarters. The Templars claimed him to be a bloodmage, and the Knight Commander accused me as well. I surrendered… but my friend escaped… using blood magic. I was left to pay for his crime, and my own."

His already quiet voice trailed off, it was not a pleasant memory. He saw Jowan's face. A man he knew, trusted. He looked into Dorian's eyes and lied. Betrayed him. He betrayed every magic born child alive, by giving in to the corruption. The sad fact was, Dorian knew he wasn't telling him everything, he just trusted him.

"Ah, so Duncan intervened. Good man. Yee shouldna' have paid for someone else's demons."

The man spoke sincerely, he believed Dorian's innocence. This took him aback, his glare shot up to meet the man's gentle eyes. Dorian did not expect that, he knew what he did was beyond forgivable. Yet this man did not bat an eyelash of disgust, he even believed it to be an honorable deed.

"But I…"

"A great man can do what the world believes right, but a greater man will do what he knows is right…"

These words stung Dorian. Such wisdom, and yet it seemed overly naive. Mages cannot be trusted. Or so he was raised to believe.

"But we…"

"Whatever yee think yee did wrong, doesn't matter anymore. Yer no longer a part of that world, instead yee are a part of the bigger picture. The difference between what is right and what others think is right. Let go of your regrets. Any means, in order to defeat the Blight. What yer gotta do now Laddy, is make up for it all by helping me comrades at Ostagar."

Dorian took a moment to embrace what the man said to him. It seemed too much, Dorian was barely a man. He knew little of the world as it was, and he was to maintain an invisible balance. Intriguing though it was, it added to his fear.

Wait… what did he say?

"You will not be there?" Dorian almost shouted, he was not liking the idea of the man escaping the doom he was to face.

"Sadly no. Duncan wants me to head to Orlais. We have fellow Wardens stationed over there. Good chance the pompous snobs won'ta lift a finger, but Duncan is the boss." He chuckled lightly. "Now off you go, must keep yer strength up. Soon you'll be at Ostagar. And soon enough, a fellow Warden! Hoorah!" he lifted his dagger as he cheered. Dorian trembled like a mouse before a cat.

Oh, easy for him to be in jolly high spirits! I'm the one off to be eaten by Maker knows what! Damnation… I miss the library.

Ever brave Dorian…. Ever brave….

Dorian nodded. It was past his usual resting time, though he would probably find it hard to sleep. It was his first night away from the Circle. The area seemed beyond noisy. Retiring to his tent, he laid out his possessions. Changing into more breathing clothes he counted what little money he left with. Two sovereigns, they would not last. Reaching into his pack he found his leather bound personal Tome. A fine book, a gift from Irving. Inside were a few pages of spells and recipes for potions. They would indeed be useful. Sighing, he took his quill and ink pouch out of his satchel and began writing. There were many pages spare, thinking it wise he would use the book as a way to recount events that would proceed on his journeys. Perhaps one day looking back and finding information useful.

Or as a good way to say good bye to the world while you're being devoured by a Bronto.

You are a pleasant fellow aren't you…?

When one is faced with certain doom, one tends to loose optimism.

Touché.

After recording in accurate detail the events of his Harrowing, Jowan's blighted betrayal, and Duncan's timely intervention he took a moment to remember what Angus told him. On a fresh page he wrote his words in bold lettering;

"A great man can do what the world believes right, but a greater man will do what he knows is right…"

Perhaps one day they would make sense to Dorian, until then he would never forget them. Yawning he laced the bound once more and packed his things. Then retiring to his bed roll he attempted to drift off, much to his disdain.

He could hear Angus snoring, Duncan whistling some tune instead of sleeping, and the wind was even too loud for Dorian's liking. He missed the tower, and its safety and silence. But more so, he was terrified. He was scared of what was to come when the sun rose. So far, the only Grey Warden's he had seen were strong, brave men, dedicating their lives to save the world. Dorian would never make a good hero. He spent his life reading about them, wishing his life was an adventure like theirs. But now he had a chance to make that happen, he would have preferred a life time of reading in a secluded library.

You got what you wanted as a boy, now relish in it.

I'm no hero… that's obvious...

That night he dreamt of terrible things. The Fade opened, and called sweet things to Dorian. Demons attempted to summon him. In particular, demons of desire and pride. The temptation was there, they offered what he wanted. The quiet, the safety. The books and peace. The desire temptresses purred seductively the promises he wanted so badly. But he knew they were empty lies. Then pride demons would speak to him. They promised courage, strength. A chance to be the hero he wanted. To have women throw themselves at him, to be the man he saw in Duncan and Angus. To make everyone worship his heroics. He never even acknowledged them, filthy lies that would cost more than what they were worth.

Like First Enchanter Irving always taught him, he didn't need a demon to accomplish impossible feats. He always waved off that idea, what could a jittery mage like Dorian accomplish. But Irving always swore he saw greatness in the boy, promise and hope. He missed Irving. Even though he believed his words no more than flattery to help him gain confidence, he enjoyed the fibs.

...

The morning came, and Dorian barely slept. He felt horrid. Using what healing skills he had, he attempted to soothe his headache. It worked, but took time. He would need to remain focused and practice his skills regularly, otherwise he would become useless. If he wanted to survive, he needed to remain powerful with his mage skills.

"How did you sleep?" Duncan boomed pleasantly, adding to the ringing in Dorian's ears.

"Oh, alright." He lied with a weak smile.

"Good, we will be leaving once you have eaten. Angus made some food, it's by the fire."

Dorian nodded and headed over.

Angus was munching on a large piece of meat, beef presumably. Dorian noticed a bowl of grey stew, it did not look appeasing. Living in the Circle, he would mostly eat fresh food, grown and handpicked fruit and vegetables. One of his hobbies was growing the herbs and spices for the meals. This muck looked long dead and lacking of taste. Knowing good manners and gratitude, he thanked his companion and began eating away. It wasn't as nice as he would have hoped, but it was food.

"Eat up Lad, yee won't get fine cooking like that at Ostagar. Not if Duncan lets Alistair cook, boy couldn't boil a cabbage. Good Lad though, yer'll like him." With that Angus got up and threw his bone at a nearby tree. He seemed pleased it smashed and scattered everywhere.

"Are you ready to leave Angus?" Duncan asked his friend. Angus nodded.

"Aye. I'd best head off now. I need to make a stop at Highever on the way, grab the recruits yee wanted me to. Then off to bleeding Orlais. The land of fine wines and stinky cheeses."

"It is necessary, friend."

"Yeah, I know. Just wish I could be there to help bust some Hurlock brains, like when we were younger!"

"I will make sure to kill extra!" Duncan laughed, Dorian studied the interaction closely. He found it interesting.

"You bloody better! Take care friend."

"Maker watch over you Angus."

"May he watch over us all…" their pleasantries became sullen. Bowing to his comrade in arms, he then turned to Dorian. "I'll be sure to keep an ear out about yee Laddy. I expect great things about yee. Always remember what we spoke about, yee hear? And take care." His eyes grew serious.

"Farewell Angus, it was nice to have met you."

Angus became friendly once more, and slapped a hand across the boys back as he passed him. Dorian chocked for a second, he did not expect that.

With that Angus mounted the second horse and rode off. Leaving Duncan and Dorian, sitting alone. Duncan breathed heavily for a moment, deep in thought, then began to pack camp up. He readied the last horse and waited for Dorian to climb aboard. Dorian grabbed his things as quickly as possible, then followed the Warden.

For the remainder of the journey, all was quiet. Dorian and Duncan did not speak. Duncan occasionally sung to himself. But apart from that, silence. He wanted to speak to him, get to know his lead. But was to shy and uncertain to so much a whimper his gratitude for saving him in the tower.

There will be time later. Just leave him to his thoughts.

...

Days of silent travel passed, when finally they reached a rubble of a wall. The land was in ruins, covered everywhere in wild woods. Overgrown, and dangerous. The land appeared harsh and cold, he looked on into the distance and thought he spied a wolf. Blinking to clear his vision, the beast was gone. A possible illusion due to lack of sleep. Within a moment he gained his bearings. He knew where he was now, the legendary Korcari Wilds. This was the ruins of Ostagar. His destination.

"We have arrived." Duncan spoke formerly. He had been awaiting this moment.

Dorian took in the sights. The ruins were of a large wall, a fortress. Surely they would be protected from any enemy within. That lifted the mages spirits, he would be safe from harm. Duncan's tone seemed to answer that silent hope, and banished it.

"The king's men have arrived already. Good." Harsh and calculating.

"Why would the king send all his armies?" he thought it seemed foolish to have him send all his men, in case they were to all fall.

You really are a pleasant blighter aren't you?

"The king's forces have clashed with the darkspawn several times, but here is where the bulk of the horde will show itself. There are only a few Grey Wardens within Ferelden at the moment, but all of us are here. This Blight must be stopped here and now. If it spreads to the north, Ferelden will fall."

Dorian could feel the air between them tense. Icy and harsh, like Duncan had suddenly become. The reality of the situation was begging to hit Dorian. This was as serious as he feared.

The two marched on foot over to the bridge, leaving caravan and horse behind. Dorian carried his pack and staff, Duncan needed only his sword. Dorian could not help but take in the beauty of the wilds. They seemed to spread on and on, never to end. The sky blanketing over it was bluer than anything he had ever seen. It was truly a sight. Given a different time, Dorian would have been overjoyed to be outside in the fresh air. Maybe taken time to make notes on different plants, or sketched the different trees. His thoughts were quickly interrupted.

"Ho there, Duncan!" this voice startled Dorian, he looked up to see a tall man wearing golden armor march to the gates.

His hair was as golden as his armor. He carried a magnificent sword and shield. Face young and fair, sun touched and yet undamaged. It was clear this man had never seen a battle before. And yet, his confidence would inspire a whole army. He was the perfect image of a hero, just as Dorian had read about. Proud, handsome, golden armor and mighty weapon. Dorian had assumed rather close to the fact of who this man was. Duncan bowed, this was the King of Ferelden.

"King Cailan? I didn't expect…" the King took his hand, as if old friends. Dorian half bowed, feeling it appropriate.

"A royal welcome? I was beginning to worry you'd miss all the fun!" the man smiled greatly, as if they were meeting for a party.

"Not if I could help it, your Majesty." Duncan spoke humbly.

"Then I'll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all! Glorious!" Dorian noticed how proud the king appeared, over confident. It must have been customary for the king to be so. "The other Wardens told me you've found a promising recruit. I take it this is he?" the king looked over to Dorian, smiling as he did so.

Dorian stared back, unsure what to do or say. He had never met many people he did not already know, and now he was to address a king. He assumed he looked the absolute fool. His knees quivered. He could hear the snickering of the king's guards, even the faint words "some terrifying mage…"

"Allow me to introduce you, your Majesty." Duncan smiled lightly at the nervous recruit.

"No need to be so formal, Duncan. We'll be shedding blood together, after all. Ho there, friend! Might I know your name?" the king offered his hand.

Dorian stared at it, unsure what he should do.

"I- I- I am Do-Dorian, your Majesty." He took the kings hand and half bowed again. Duncan chuckled quietly. Cailan seemed confused by the boy's actions.

"Uh, pleased to meet you!" he smiled unsurely and released the mages hand. "The Grey Wardens are desperate to bolster their numbers, and I for one, am glad to help them." He shot Duncan a smile. "I understand you hail from the Circle of Magi. I trust you have some spells to help us in the coming battle?"

"I… shall do my best, of course…" unsure himself if he could be of any service at all.

As long as you don't hit the people on our side, everyone will be fine.

"Excellent! We have too few mages here, another is always welcome. Allow me to be the first to welcome you to Ostagar. The Wardens will benefit greatly with you in their ranks." The king bowed to Dorian. This took him aback. Never had such a gesture been made.

Ooh look, you're already getting bows from the King. Soon you will have everyone swooning! Oh, fearless mage!

"You are… too kind, your Majesty."

"I'm sorry to cut this short, but I should return to my tent. Loghain waits eagerly to bore me with his strategies."

Duncan stepped forward, making his presence known once more. Dorian wished he done so sooner to avoid the uncomfortable pleasantries with the king.

"Your uncle sends his greetings and reminds you that Redcliffe forces could be here in less than a week."

"Ha! Eamon just wants in on the glory. We've won three battles against these monsters and tomorrow will be no different."

"I didn't realize things were going so well…" not directed at anyone, Dorian spoke. Hopefully he would not be needed for long.

"I'm not even sure this is a true Blight. There are plenty of darkspawn on the field, but alas, we've seen no sign of an Archdemon."

Dorian froze. He knew all too well about that creature the king spoke of. It made his skin crawl. Hearing someone hope to see one, worried him. As if feeling the same, Duncan spoke what Dorian thought.

"Disappointed, your Majesty?"

"I'd hoped for a war like in the tales! A king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted god! But I suppose this will have to do." The man sighed, rather dramatically.

This man is running our country? Oh Maker, save the children!

"I must go before Loghain sends out a search party. Farewell, Grey Wardens!" with that, the king and his men marched off. Dorian stood confused, the king wanted a blood thirsty battle. This seemed foolish. The look of shock and confusion on his face must have shown, as Duncan looked rather deep in thought about it as well.

"What the king said is true. They've won several battles against the darkspawn here." Dorian was not sure if Duncan spoke to himself, or to Dorian.

"Yet you don't sound very reassured?" Dorian attempted to shake the fear from his voice.

Duncan nodded and directed his charge to follow him. They marched through the huge gateway, to the interior of the fortress.

"Despite the victories so far, the darkspawn horde grows larger with each passing day. By now, they look to outnumber us."

Oh good, so I will be fighting then…Hazah!

"I know there is an Archdemon behind this. But I cannot ask the king to act solely on my feeling…"

Again, that word was spoken so freely. There was concern, but no fear.

"Then maybe we should move quickly..." Dorian was not sure what to say to his lead, he had no experience with any battles. He felt he would be a useless ally.

"Yes. We should proceed with the ritual." The man half laughed at the nervous peep that left his recruits throat.

"What do you need me to do?"

Lay down preferably, don't get anyone killed? Just hide under a rock maybe? Knit socks to keep the men warm?

"Feel free to explore the camp here as you wish. All I ask is that you do not leave it for the time being. There is another Grey Warden in the camp by the name of Alistair. When you are ready, seek him out and tell him it's time to summon the other recruits. Until then, I have other business I must attend to. You may find me at the Grey Warden tent on the other side of this bridge, should you need to."

With that, Duncan left. Dorian stood for a moment. He was completely alone. He was used to being on his own in the Circle. But here, he was not surrounded by walls, or Templars. There, he could easily escape, if he chose to. Plant a decoy, make it seem to the Wardens he died attempting to escape the Wilds. At least for a time, he would be free. But why would he want to be free? He spent his life being controlled, being told how to live. What else was there? What other life could a mage live?

Besides, he owed a debt to Duncan. Duncan saved his life, he owed him the remainder of it. If he died tomorrow, so be it. He would have died repaying his savior, and maybe proved something to those who banished him. He just prayed, it would not come to that.

Taking in a deep breath, he stepped forward. Moving slowly across the bridge, into the fortress. This was the start of his new life. A new begging. He just hoped it wouldn't reach a quick end.

Just another day. That's all this is, you can do this. How hard can being a Grey Warden truly be anyway?

Authors Notes:

Chapter one, and so a hero is found... or rather the would be hero?

Meet Dorian Amell. Spent near his whole life in the Circle of Magi, and now thrust out into the world to help fight monsters. He is roughly 20 years old, although it cannot be certain due to lack of memory of his past life (hence the name problem). Dorian is a naturally introverted guy and has automatic fight or flight senses. Flight is generally his response to small things like interactions, and fight when he feels threatened.

Angus, is based off an old family friend. Growing up away from his birthplace his accent is all over the joint.

Anyway, this is my first fanfic on the game, so I hope people like it :)