This is just a starting chapter, to set the stage. Enjoy!
Chapters will probably be longer after this, but no promises.
Two years. Arabus was still amazed at that. It had been two long, hard years since his King, and friend, Alistair had gone off into the Deep Roads for his Calling. He still remembered the going away ceremony. Alistair had left in full battle regalia with his wife beside him. Arabus had went along, with his spouse Morrigan, and his daughter Casair in tow to see his friend off. But now the Warden Commander is fighting for his life, and the life of all Wardens, against Bertram, the new King. Bertram, the son of Alistair.
The Grey Wardens had supported Bertram when he came to power, expecting him to be just like his father. They were wrong. They backing and support was met with fire and brimstone. Accusing the Wardens of heresy, slander, libel, and treason, he waged a campaign against them..
But Arabus, the Elven Blood Mage had stood firm. When the King called for his surrender he was met by a cry of "I bowed not to the Archdemon, I bowed not to the Witch of the Wilds, I bowed not the Mother, I will not bow to you!" And so began the struggle. Grey wardens and their allies on one side, and the Royal forces on the other.
Standing alongside the Dalish, Magi, and Dwarves, Grey Wardens fought, and overcame all obstacles that the corrupt monarch placed in front of them. Arabus, their leader was the focal point. The point where all looked towards whenever guidance was needed.
With him at their head, his armies crashed through all opposition to eventually reach Denerim, where Bertram had holed up in the castle. Crashing the gates in, Wardens swarmed the city; fighting, killing, and dying to preserve their way of life.
Everyone realized when Arabus streaked up the tower like a man possessed that everything would come to a head here and now, one way or another. At the top of the stairs, he blasted in the door to Bertram's bedchamber.
When the fighting in the streets had died down to mere scraps and fistfights, the entirety of the city looked towards the castle. This would be the deciding moment. No matter who had won the street wars, without their leader, they were nothing. And as they watched, a lone figure stepped onto the balcony.
And Betram waved to his subjects.