Right then, I do not own Dragon Age.

I know I keep starting stories, but I've got so many ideas in my head, I really hope you like them.

Introductions

The clunk of armour could be heard as a man of about thirty years, outfitted in silverite scale, paced back and forth in front of the fire in the Grey Warden camp. Strapped to his back were a long sword and a kite shield bearing the heraldry of the Grey Wardens; both were also silverite. Across the fire sat a younger man, a junior Warden outfitted in steel splintmail with a steel long sword and a wooden kite shield made of yew with a Templar heraldry.

The pacing man paused and ran a hand over his shaved brown hair, his green eyes staring deep into the fire. His father had been gone nearly two weeks now, gathering recruits from all over Ferelden. He hoped to return with six, but he had also hoped to have returned a week ago. Apparently there were delays, ones which his father had to endure. The last message that he had received from his father had told him that he was heading back. So now all he had to do was wait. He didn't do waiting well. He had just resumed his pacing when he noticed the Revered Mother striding up to the fire, a couple of Templars following behind her.

"Warden Dylan, I request the use of this junior Warden to deliver a message to the mages," Dylan felt anger at her demand. He was about to refuse her when remembered that his father wanted everyone to co-operate. Dylan had been left in charge of the Wardens and he wasn't going to disappoint his father. He hefted a sigh.

"Very well," he said, turning to face Alistair, "Warden Alistair, deliver the message for the Revered Mother and return here. We need to prepare for the arrival of Warden-Commander Duncan." Alistair got to his feet and saluted, his arms crossed against his chest and bowed, before following the Revered Mother away from the camp. Some of the other Grey Wardens were milling about; most of them had their own duties to perform. There were only two female Wardens in Ferelden and both were sat outside their tent sharpening their blades. Greigor was drinking a pint of ale as he polished his armour; Dylan rolled his eyes, that man could not get drunk. David, the recruit who joined the Wardens along with Alistair, came running into the camp. He had been stationed on the Imperial Highway to watch for Duncan. Before he could say anything Dylan was running towards the main gate of Ostagar.

He arrived just as the King was leaving. He bowed and the king clapped him on the shoulder. Dylan walked to his father and saluted him. Duncan chuckled and pulled him into a hug.

"My son," he greeted, "How are you?" he was grinning and soon Dylan was too.

"About as well as I can be father," he said hugging back, "and you father? Did you get the recruits?" Duncan pulled back and led his son to the small group of people, five women and a man. Two were dwarfs, two were elves and two were humans.

"Recruits, this is my son, senior Warden Dylan," they all nodded in greeting, though the elven women did so stiffly. Duncan motioned towards the only man, a dwarf.

"Dylan, this is Duran Aeducan." Dylan bowed his head before observing the dwarf. He was short and appeared to be chubby, just like every dwarf Dylan had ever met, but he was well built. He was a warrior, built for battle. He had long brown hair and beard, both were tied into plaits. He was wearing heavy dwarven armour and carried a giant battle axe; it almost seemed too big for him. His father moved onto the other dwarf.

"This is Natia Brosca. Both Duran and Natia are from Orzammar, as you can probably guess." Natia didn't seem as chubby as Duran. Dylan wondered if it was because she was a woman or if it was because she wasn't a warrior, for she was clearly a rogue. Her hair was light red and cut very short. She was dressed in leather armour and had a crossbow on her back. There was a block tattoo on her right cheek, like a brand. Dylan remembered the stories of the branded dwarves, they were casteless, belonging to no house.

"This is Kallian Tabris, of the Denerim Alienage." The small elf was glaring at him and Dylan suspected that she hadn't been treated well by humans. She too was a rogue; she had two daggers strapped to her back. Her blonde hair was loose, messy and down to her shoulders. She wore tatters of clothing, her dress was ripped in several places, and there was a golden ring on her ring finger.

"This is Lyna Mahariel, of the Dalish." Unlike the city elf, Lyna looked at him with cool indifference. Her short black hair pulled back into three ponytails, one to each side and one at the back. She wore Dalish armour that showed her bare midriff and had a longbow on her back, another rogue. She too had tattoos on her face, hers however were graceful and artistic. In contrast to Natia's, hers were to show that she belonged with the Dalish.

"This is Solona Amell, of the Ferelden Circle of Magi." The young human girl was staring around in awe at everything. The sky, the earth, the trees, even the ruins. Her hair was a vibrant red colour and short, pulled into a very small ponytail on top of her head. She wore mages robes and carried an Acolytes staff.

"And finally we have Elissa Cousland, of Highever." Elissa looked depressed, like she would break down crying at any moment. Her light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail with a few strands falling each side of her face. She wore expensive leather armour and wielded a silverite sword and a matching dagger, and a silverite shield was on her back, even though it looked too big for her. Standing next to her was a big Mabari, constantly on alert for danger. Around its neck was a spiked collar.

"A pleasure to meet you all," Dylan said, "I look forward to welcoming you all to the ranks of the Grey Wardens. Father," he turned to face Duncan, "may a have a word?"

"Certainly," Duncan bade the recruits to wait where they were while Dylan moved out of earshot. He was soon joined by his father.

"Father, how old are they?" Duncan raised his eyebrow. He looked back at the recruits before addressing his son.

"I will not lie, some are very young," he sighed, "The eldest is Duran at twenty five, followed by Natia, who is twenty three. Elissa is twenty and Lyna is eighteen. Kallian and Solona are just sixteen with Solona being the youngest having just had her birthday last month."

"Sixteen," Dylan hissed, "you wouldn't even let me join the Wardens until I was twenty. They're not even women yet, the Darkspawn will kill them." Duncan held up his hand to forestall his son's arguments.

"I had to recruit the two elves, they are capable, but in all honesty I would have left them where they were if I could. Lyna is dying of the taint and Kallian killed the Arl of Denerim's son," Dylan would be the first to admit that his father had a bleeding heart, but then so did he. He knew that he would not have been able to leave them to their fates either.

"What about Solona?" he asked and his father smirked.

"Well, she would have been put to death by the Templars for helping a mage to escape the circle," his son gave him a startled look, "but it's her power that drew me to her. At sixteen years old she is the youngest person to ever go through the Harrowing. Irving told me it was the quickest, cleanest Harrowing he had ever seen. Even if she hadn't helped her friend escape however, she still would have been in danger there." Dylan looked at his father, a question in his eyes. Duncan sighed again.

"You know of the fraternities, yes?" Dylan nodded, "Solona does not belong to one, frankly she is too young to, but she does have a voice in the circle. She doesn't believe in any of the fraternities, Solona is simply the voice against injustice towards the mages. She believes that the Chantry itself has strayed from the teachings of Andraste. You can see why she would be unpopular with the Templars, many of whom wish she had failed her Harrowing."

Dylan looked over at the young girl. Before he had only noticed her awe in everything, now he noticed the determination in her eyes, in her stance, this was no little girl that someone could easily push around. She was a fighter and Maker help anyone who tried to push her around. Dylan let his father dismiss the recruits, sending them off to find Alistair and the other two recruits. He then walked to the Wardens fire in the main camp alongside his father.

"What happened to the others?" he asked and his father sighed again. His father was doing that a lot lately. Duncan was keeping something from him, he knew it, but he wouldn't press him. His father would tell him in his own time.

"Duran was betrayed by his younger brother and framed for the murder of his older brother. Natia killed the head of the criminal carta and was to be rewarded with imprisonment because of her casteless status. Elissa is the only daughter of the Teyrn of Highever. Her mother and father were recently killed, betrayed by Arl Howe, as was her sister-in-law and her nephew, her older brother is already here and doesn't yet know of the betrayal. Her home was invaded, her people slaughtered and she has lost a lot of the innocence that she had in her youth." Dylan sighed.

"Dylan, I received word from the first Warden last week," Dylan perked up, "He says you are a fine Warden and wishes to assign a small group of Wardens to your command." Dylan was shocked, staring at his father.

"Are you serious?" Duncan nodded, "Why? I've never done anything extraordinary."

"Dylan, one does not have to do extraordinary things to be extraordinary," Duncan said with an air of exasperation, "The First Warden is impressed by you, not what you've done. I believe he is testing you, to see how you handle command. I believe he is choosing you to be my replacement." Duncan fell silent.

"What do you mean father?" They arrived at the fire and Duncan went into his tent, Dylan following him.

"Dylan, I have been a Grey Warden for thirty years now, the time of my calling is drawing near, I fear it may already have begun. It won't be long and I'll be heading for Orzammar and the Deep Roads. I hope to stay long enough to stop this blight, but when my time comes I will leave and you will take my place." Dylan was silent for a moment. He quietly moved over to the desk and poured himself some whisky from the bottle on the table. He downed it in one before pouring himself another glass and retreating to one of the chairs. Duncan poured himself a drink and sat down as well.

"So who will be under my command?" Dylan asked. There was no point in grief at this point. The way of the Grey Wardens was set. Dylan himself was quite aware that he had twenty more years to live, it had just slipped his mind that his father was out of years. He took a sip, no wonder his father had been distant lately.

"All of the new recruit, those who survive the joining, that is, and Alistair," Dylan nodded before taking another sip, "your mother would be proud of you, as am I."

"She would be proud of you too father, as am I," he smirked a little into his drink and sighed, the smirk fading from his face. With all the sighing he was starting to do, if he wasn't careful he would turn into his father. As he sat observing is father he thought that that might not actually be a bad thing.

So tell me what you think. Please review.