First Dragon Age story for me. This is inspired by the "We are Wardens" stroy by ladyserenade i believe. Hopefully I got that right, the name of the author I mean. Anyhow enjoy. Oh yeah, this first chapter is just an intro so if that bores you check out a later chapter which will be up soon i hope. Leave a review.
Disclaimer-not mine
They were a sorry group. None of them gathered by the fire would look another in the eye. In fact, two of them, one of them not of his volition, sat by themselves far away from the others. The ones gathered by the main fire were silent for their own personal reasons.
The Dalish elf, proud and stern, was uncertain about the role he would now play. By the fire, the tattoos that adorned his bald head were clearly visible, the symbols of his heritage. When he was recruited, he had placed his trust for the first time in a human. Now however, he was uncertain how he should proceed from here. Honestly, part of him wanted to desert this ragtag bunch but for the values instilled in him by his peers and family.
The city elf by contrast looked weak. She looked like she was going to be sick. Even before the assault began, she looked sickly and pale. Her bright green hair only served to further that image. Some of her companions half expected her to fail the Joining like Ser Jory and Daveth did. She succeeded though and showed she had a place among the Wardens. She still had family she wanted to return to in Denerim. Her best chance would be to stick with the group at least until Denerim. After all, she wasn't a hero. At least, that's what she kept muttering to herself while shooting down darkspawn at the bridge in Ostagar.
The Aeducan, the dwarf noble, was drinking unsurprisingly. The ale was splashed all over his dwarven armor and dark brown beard but he didn't seem to mind. Drinking was the only way the dwarf can honor the fallen… pleasantly. He was saved by that same human out in the Deep Roads. He was prepared to sell his life dearly that day but swore to himself to repay his debt to his savior. Now that man was dead but he still felt he owed something. This was very unusual for a dwarf, especially one of the kin-slaying noble houses.
The casteless dwarf drank as well. Neither dwarf showed any love for the other. In fact, they were both at each other's throat within minutes of their first meeting. The class structure in Ostagar was harsh and it did little to help the unity now. Like and unlike the Aeducan, this dwarf owed his life to the Grey Warden as well. He would have been executed for mocking the warrior caste. As it was, he swore to use that axe hand of his for his savior but he was gone now. Now he wondered if he should part ways now. Darkspawn were not exactly a new problem for the dwarves who constantly lived under attacks.
The lady, the last survivor of her house Cousland, was alone in the world. While the others may claim family or friends somewhere in the world, she honestly felt alone. Her family betrayed and killed, her brother missing since the darkspawn assault on Ostagar, and even her dear mabari hound was missing since her rescue from the signal tower. There, she was betrayed again by Teryn Loghain and his retreat. If for no other reason, she would see her family revenged. Her piercing blue eyes and ash blonde hair framed her immaculate features and made her seem set on her path.
The mage from the Circle Tower was surly to say the least. Of the group, he was the second youngest in joining their ranks, arriving only a month earlier than the Cousland girl. While it was true the four undertook the ritual at the same time, he still felt like an outcast but less so than the blood mage Warden they isolated. In his hands was a tome he "liberated" from a Tranquil's treasure chest. He had long since finished the read and had scorched some of his jet black hair to prove it.
The blood mage, the maleficar, or the freak, as the Aeducan put it, tried the hardest. He tried to make the group be at ease with each other but the templar's inadvertent slip of the tongue only isolated him. Of all the members of the party, he was the only one that returned to the darkspawn-infested territory to look for survivors and to confirm the demise of the King Cailan and unofficial Grey Warden Leader Duncan. He really didn't care about Cailan though the king was a pleasant sort until he mentioned he was a blood mage. Then it took Duncan everything to convince Cailan that he was an ally. Duncan was a man that the mage greatly respected and he had made Duncan a promise to end the Blight. He would end it since promises were meant to be kept.
The Templar probably mourned Duncan the most. It was obvious that the young man viewed Duncan differently from the others. While the others respected the man, he acted like Duncan was a father to him. Now the man was gone. He wasn't the senior member here. That would be the blood mage. Because of his remark though, the mantle of leadership would most likely fall on him now but he doesn't know where to go from here. A single tear flowed from his right eye and he quickly made as to swipe his hand through his dirt brown hair as to not let anyone see that moment of weakness. A leader must be strong after all.
The witch of the wilds was making herself comfortable by her lone fire a fair distance away. If she was attacked then the others can aid her and vice versa. As of yet she was inadequate with society having lived in the Korcari Wilds for the most of her life. She was in no real hurry to kill the archdemon or to save the world either. If any of the "companions" she was traveling with would tell her to leave, then she believed she would do just that.
These nine carried the hope of the people of Ferelden but before they could save the land, they would have to find their purpose and reason for continuing on I this fight.