Anders looked over Theron, who stood at a window to watch the soldiers down on the ground. "So, what's his story?"
Alistair shrugged. "Duncan didn't give me all the particulars. He found him out in the forestry, somehow Tainted."
"The mirror." They looked up at the soft response, as Theron turned. "My clan-brother, Tamlen, and I were hunting in the Brecilian forest. Some Shemlen we came across told us about some odd ruins. After we let them pass, Tamlen insisted we investigate. There was some sort of ancient mirror there, and Tamlen walked up to look at it… he suddenly panicked, and screamed that something was staring back at him. All I remember after that is a flash of light, and waking up in camp." He swallowed, noiselessly. "It had been two days, and nobody had been able to find Tamlen at all. This Duncan, he told us something had infected me and only the Joining could save me. The Keeper insisted I come, 'this Blight threatens us all'. So here I am, guarding a pyre for some Shem King. Even if all goes well, I'll never find my clan again. Those Shemlen I let pass, before Tamlen could harm them – they went home and raised their village against us, I guess letting them leave peacefully was a death threat. The Keeper will have moved everyone somewhere else… until the next Shem town knows Dalish are near, so they have to break out the pitchforks and torches."
Theron returned to his vantage point, while Brosca finished sharpening a blade. "For me – it was this or dying in a cell. Back in Orzammar, I was one of the casteless. Wasn't easy, but I managed to keep my family from starving." He put away his sharpening stone and looked up at the others. "My employer, Beraht, sent me to fix a Proving tournament so his bets would win. His fighter was too drunk to stand, so I took his place, in his armour. I won, but the fool somehow got loose of his room and barged out into the Arena right before the last fight. The guards forced everyone to remove their helmets… turned out the final opponent was Princess Sereda." He shook his head bitterly "A sodding Royal Honour Proving… nobody, and nobody messes with those and gets past the number of guards assigned. My partner, Leske, I have no idea what happened to him. I was being marched straight to the dungeons when Gregor got involved. He invoked Conscription, saying my skill in the Proving made me a worthy candidate. Luckily, my sister was in the Commons for some reason – I was able to say goodbye… I'll send most of my pay back to her." He paused, "We do get paid, don't we?"
Alistair nodded, "We get a stipend, based on service and tenure. Not a great deal, since we're fed and equipped for free."
Brosca turned to Anders, "How about you? I stayed at the lake inn, so I didn't see your recruitment."
Anders shrugged. "Pure luck, I think. I had tried another escape attempt – it's a hobby out of boredom, mostly. So I was relegated to my usual cell. I overheard some news – some of the trusted mages were allowed to come to Ostagar to help. Like those two you saw me talking to earlier. The main gossip was about Irving's prize student, she passed her Harrowing quicker than most."
Brosca asked, "Was that the young Elf girl?"
"Surana? No. This was Amell. Solona. 'Surana, Solona'. Some of us would sing it as a greeting if they were sitting together." Anders sighed. "I don't think she'll be allowed to do anything for a while… if things go well for her."
Alistair stopped and looked at him, "I was recruited before properly joining the Templars, but there's only one thing you can mean."
Brosca noticed the dark expression they shared. "This isn't anything good?"
"No, he's thinking about Tranquillity. They cut a Mage off from the Fade, so they can't use magic. But the side-effects…"
"A Tranquil loses all emotions as well; it's like watching a puppet controlled by a sleep-walker."
Brosca sat thoughtfully, and tapped his forehead. "They have a weird mark, up here?" They nodded, so he continued. "I met one, actually. Down in the camp – I thought he was Lyrium-addled, but that…."
Trying to dispel the sudden gloom, Anders returned to his story. "From what I understand, one of her friends decided to escape for real. When the Templars moved to stop him, he used Blood Magic against them and ran. Poor Amell wasn't involved, but the Knight-Commander thought she knew something. Maybe thinks she's a Blood Mage too, since they were friends. Irving managed to hold off any punishment until the Senior Enchanters all return after this battle is done, and they can pass a decision. Gregoir probably agreed just to stem any further debate amongst the Mages in the tower." He scratched his head, adding "Apparently, the bearded Warden failed to recruit her during this argument. He tried asking her again, in the dungeons. Gregoir found out and stopped him. I saw an opportunity and volunteered as they were walking out, past my cell. Amazingly, Gregoir didn't fight the idea… maybe he was glad to be rid of my petty nonsense after the day he'd had?"
Alistair watched him for a second, "So – can we expect a lot of escape attempts?"
"No, my friend – I'm out in the air, with actual conversation and a chance to do something with my skills beyond the same casting test routines every week."
Theron suddenly pointed to the pyre. "Those Darkspawn, they're forming up and watching the gates. We better light up the signal."
Several flaming arrows flew overhead. Alistair grabbed the tinder-kit, nodding. "There's the pre-signal signal."
Anders motioned him away from the pyre. "Allow me", he said as a small flame shot from his hand and set the pile ablaze.
