Daveth, a skinny, dark-haired man, was standing around in one of the alleyways in Denerim's Market District.
Daveth was an orphan, accustomed to living on the streets. Either the bastard son of a whore-or one more mouth to feed that a poor family couldn't afford to keep around. No one knew, not even Daveth himself.
He was a cutpurse by trade: he stalked wealthy members of society, crept beside them, slid his knife against their purse, and grabbed any contents that fell out for himself. Then, he would run away as fast as he could before either the mark or the guards caught on.
So, he thought it would be business as usual when he spotted what looked to him a Rivaini man dressed in silver armor walking around. With a purse at his side.
The man's size (and that of his muscles) gave Daveth pause on whether or not the risk would be worth it.
After a moment's hesitation, he decided it was and crept forward.
Silently he snuck up behind his target, taking out his knife. He was about to slice the man's purse open suddenly, the Rivaini stopped.
Daveth's heart skipped a beat when the Rivani turned around and seized Daveth by the wrist.
The man's cold stare caused the thief to wither. As a reflex, though, Daveth punched the man in the face with his free hand.
The Rivaini took a step back, releasing Daveth's arm.
Now free, Daveth turned around and ran as fast as he could-right into the path of three city guards.
"Hey, you!"
The guard in the middle grabbed Daveth by the neck, "Caught you, thief", he hissed.
Daveth began choking while recognition shown in the guard's eye.
The guard chuckled as he slightly loosened his grip, giving Daveth air to breath, "Well, well, looks like we have a repeat offender here, boys."
Fear grew in Daveth's eyes when he recognized the guard: Pierse, the bastard son of the Arl's seneschal and one of the most brutal guards in the city garrison.
Months prior, Pierse had caught him red-handed. For this, Daveth was given a fierce whipping-administered by Pierse himself, the sadist taking great care to make every whip sting more than the last. Daveth's back still bore the scars.
Pierse let out a low growl, "This time, you'll get the noose, thief."
The Rivani approached them, "Excuse me, gentlemen-"
One of the guards interrupted, "We'll take this from here…"
The Rivaini continued, "I am afraid not, for I invoke the Rite of Conscription upon this man."
The guards all looked at him in shock. Daveth, for his part, was confused. The Rite of what?
Sergeant Kylon, the head of the Market District guards, approached, "What goes on here?", then when he noticed the Rivaini's presence, let out a surprised gasp, "Duncan-sir, what are you-?"
Duncan, recognizing Kylon as a man of authority, spoke to him calmly, "Sergeant, I was about to recruit this man here for the Grey Wardens. Would you mind having your men release him…the Rite of Conscription has already been invoked-and I would hate for this meeting to turn…bloody."
Kylon gulped, "Yes, sir," then turned sharply at the guards, bellowing, "Release this man at once!"
Pierse let out a sigh before letting Daveth go.
The now-free thief walked over to Duncan, pausing to give Pierse the smuggest smile he'd ever seen along with the middle finger.
Pierse growled, "Why, you-", and was about to approach menacingly but, upon catching the sergeant's glare, backed down.
His two fellow guards escorted him out of the scene, whispering such comforts into his ear as "A rat like him won't last a minute in the Wardens. He's dead anyway."
Duncan took Daveth by the shoulder, "Come with me," gesturing him to follow.
The Warden led the conversation, "What is your name?"
The thief spoke, "Daveth, sir."
"I am Duncan, Warden-Commander of Fereldan."
Suddenly feeling small, Daveth stuttered, "Um…thank you, sir-for helping me."
Duncan replied nonchalantly, "That will not be necessary, for we have a great undertaking before us."
"What is it?"
"A new Blight is beginning."
Daveth blinked in shock, "What?!" He had heard of these 'Blights'-stories which had kept him up nights.
"Yes, that is why we, along with the best and brightest of Fereldan's nobility, with be heading to Ostagar."
"And what is at Ostagar, sir?"
"That is where the Darkspawn horde is gathered."
Daveth shuddered. In the orphanage he grew up in, he was regaled with horror stories about these creatures. And now, he was marching towards the reality.
"Not that I'm ungrateful, sir, but…", Daveth paused before asking, "why would you want a simple thief like me in your Order."
Duncan stopped, turned around, and fixed Daveth with a firm stare, "Because I was once like you-stealing in order to survive, living only for myself-but the Wardens made me something…"
Daveth couldn't believe what he was hearing: a great warrior like the one standing before him comparing himself to simple old Daveth.
Duncan finished his pause, "More."