Duncan led me to the Commons' massive freight elevator and bowed to its uniformed attendant, asking for the Hall of Heroes; the attendant fiddled with knobs and levers and I heard water rush into the counterweights below. My stomach lurched as the elevator was bouyed up, and after a few minutes my ears popped, and popped again, and one more time before the elevator stopped with a clunk.
The gemstone eyes of the Paragons glittered at me from their carved faces as I trotted after Duncan, taking two steps for each of his long strides. I looked for my favorites - Valen the Hungry stood in solid, humble granite, and Astyth the Grey's faceted obsidian sparkled in the torchlight, sharp and deadly as ever.
The bored guards roused themselves to crank open the massive double doors, and for a moment I hesitated, squinting out at the outdoor plaza under an impossibly bright gray sky. Duncan waited patiently for my eyes to adjust before leading me down a broad flight of stairs to the edge of the plaza, where a dwarven merchant lounged on a well-sprung carriage.
"Gherric," Duncan greeted the man with a nod, "May I introduce Latitia Brosca, our newest recruit."
Gherric nodded back, but a scowl flashed across his face when he saw my brand. I ducked my head submissively and tucked my hands in my pockets. With a quick look at Duncan's frown, the man muttered a barely audible "Stone met" before hopping down from his seat and untying five horses from their picket lines behind the wagon.
I stared openly as he hitched four of the long-legged beasts to the carriage, their black tails flicking idly as they waited with infinite patience for the harnesses to be checked and double-checked. They were beautiful.
Duncan swung up onto the fifth horse's glossy chestnut back, and it pranced a few sideways steps, its steel shoes ringing. "Steady," Duncan murmured, laying a firm hand on its muscular neck. "You've made your point."
He caught my inquiring look and explained, "He worries I'll put him in harness by accident if he doesn't remind me he's my warhorse." He smiled fondly at the animal, its ears pricked back to listen. "No fear, my friend. You were meant for greater things."
At Duncan's command, I climbed up to sit next to Gherric on the driver's bench, and off we went. The carriage team walked out the plaza's gate and then broke into a jingling trot when Gherric slapped the reins on their backs. I craned my neck to look about me at the trees and plants and other things I'd heard or read about but never seen.
Eventually I looked over my shoulder and saw the carriage's storage full of lyrium potions, exotic crafting components, and enchanted weaponry - a King's ransom of the best Orzammar would sell.
I must have made some sort of cry of amazement, because Duncan said, "That is for our army at Ostagar. We go to meet the armies of King Cailan and Teyrne Loghain, and hope to cut off this Blight before it can become too serious."
"A Blight? Now? But it's been hundreds of years since the last Blight."
"I have heard the Archdemon," he said simply. "I know there is a Blight. The King and the Teyrne do not believe me, thinking instead that the darkspawn are merely restless; I can only hope that their belief will not be necessary."
I thought about that for a while. Blights made little difference to the dwarves, generally, merely that the darkspawn became agitated and aggressive. But I knew the Gray Wardens were responsible for stopping Blights before they consumed the entire world.
No wonder Duncan was desperate enough to recruit a duster.
That thought shut me up for a long time. I didn't want to bother Duncan and Gherric responded to my tentative questions with grunts and monosyllables. He could have helped me a lot, I'm sure, answered my questions and allayed my fears as a dwarf who'd probably wondered all the same things when he'd left the safety of the Undermountain, but whether he was prejudiced or naturally taciturn, he had nothing to say to me.
He did, however, come to my aid on the third day, when the sun began to break through the clouds.
I was looking around, taking in the sights of the lowland forest and how the trees smelled different now, when I noticed a disc of light in the middle of the sky. It was already the brightest thing I had ever seen, and getting brighter, fast. My wagon-mate looked over and snapped, "Don't look it!"
"But it's so bright!" I said inanely, gaping.
"That's why you mustn't look at it!" He clamped his hat on my head, shoving it roughly over my eyes.
While I struggled to remove it, he explained that the sun could burn my skin and pierce my eyes like daggers, and that my body had no defense against it now. He said I would get used to it, but I must be very careful for some weeks. Then he said I could keep his hat until we got someplace where I could buy my own. I stammered my thanks, and contented myself with looking around at how the light sparkled on the leaves and stones around me.
That night, as we settled into camp, my hands and forearms felt very sore. When Duncan touched my wrist to guide me in setting up our campfire (they burned wood - it was free up here!), I cried out and clutched my hand to my chest.
"Stupid woman! I told you to keep out of the sun, didn't I?" Gherric growled as he stalked over to us.
"Why didn't you tell me I was sitting in it too long?" I complained.
"You'll learn better this way."
Duncan gave the man a hard look, and grudgingly, the trader produced a jar of lotion from his pack. He told me to apply it tonight and tomorrow, and the burn would heal by the end of that day. I thanked him and worried about how much it had cost and where I would get more of it. I had a feeling this wouldn't be my last sunburn.
"I am sorry, Latitia," Duncan apologized, finishing the campfire himself while I gingerly massaged ointment over my puffy skin. "I should have thought to warn you myself."
"It's not so bad, really, I'm fine," I said quickly, not wanting to look like a whiner in front of him. Then, encouraged by his concern, I asked, "So where is Ostagar? How long will it take to get there?"
"It lies on the edge of the Korcari Wilds - a land of barbarian tribesmen, mainly wetlands and sparsely settled," he explained, setting up a tripod for cooking stew. "It is an ancient watchtower and gateway, used to guard against incursions into Ferelden's south border. Ferelden is the human kingdom in this area," he added, seeing my confusion.
"Who else will be there?"
"The other Fereldan Gray Wardens, what few of us there are. You will work most directly with Alistair, the newest Warden, as is tradition; you yourself will mentor the next new Warden after you. We will also meet contingents from the Templars and the Circle of Magi..."
The conversation went on late into the night, and Duncan seemed pleased by my curiosity and tolerated the most obvious questions - "What is the sky," for example. That was a hard one because apparently nobody really knew, although some thought that it was basically a roof, like the world's biggest cave. That helped a little, at least until I asked "What are stars" and he suggested that they were floating fireballs. Over my head. Right now. Hundreds of them.
Great.
The journey took another week, and we traveled hard, pushing the horses to their limit to get to Ostagar before the battle. Gherric stopped once to trade for a fresh team, these ones mostly shades of gray, and we cantered on into the accursed sun. Duncan rode beside the carriage, pointing out interesting sights and answering questions, compassionately keeping my mind busy while I got used to all the ...emptiness.
The day we finally arrived, clouds had blown up in the night, heavy and gray and vaguely resembling the stone ceilings of home. I was glad of the small comfort, because I had been dreading reaching Ostagar. I feared the army, the other Wardens, Alistair - I feared their disappointment when they found out Duncan had brought me, instead of a mighty soldier from the Warrior Caste.
The slender watchtower loomed before us as we slowed to a walk in the softer, marshy ground. Its roof had long since crumbled, and most of the outbuildings and walls surrounding it showed signs of decay. I examined the tumbled stones with a critical eye as we approached the army's encampment; shoddy worksmanship, I decided - if a dwarf had built this, it would still look new.
When we rolled up to the wooden palisade gates, the guards greeted Duncan with immense respect, and ushered us into the officers' camp. I tried to melt into the carriage and avoid eye contact, but Duncan made me get down because Gherric had to report to the quartermaster and stable the horses. Then I lurked behind him and stared at my boots, too ashamed to stand next to him.
To my growing surprise, though, nobody seemed to care what I was. The humans and elves didn't notice my brand, or didn't know what it meant, and some even offered to shake my hand. When Duncan left me to wait outside the tent while he conferred with the war council, a passing soldier called me a 'pretty thing' and asked if I needed help!
I managed to stammer a "No, thank you," and tried to figure out what was happening here. When a group of mage women walked by, chattering together in their bright robes like a flock of birds, I finally figured it out.
Human women were tiny! Many were barely taller than me, and most were even skinnier, their hips and shoulders just as angular, their breasts ... well, usually they still had bigger tits than me, but at least the disparity wasn't quite as embarrassing. The significant differences lay in the shape of my face, with my broader cheekbones and rounder jaw, and I suspected that anyone really familiar with dwarven women would recognize me immediately, but the average shmuck didn't seem to know any different.
Well, now. Isn't that interesting?
"Hi," I called out to a small cluster of young men in scale mail as they passed by. "I'm new here. How's it going?"
They stopped and nudged one another. The most confident one stuck out his hand, smiling to show me his excellent teeth. "It's going good. You're here just in time for the fighting. I'm Daveth, I just got here yesterday."
I took his hand and shook it vigorously - the ritual was still new to me. "I'm Latitia. Do you know what I am?"
He didn't bat an eye. "Cute."
His compatriots rolled their eyes and one of them pulled on his elbow. "C'mon, Daveth, you've been slapped by enough women today. Leave the dwarf alone, they're tough."
"Dwarf?" Daveth repeated, raising an eyebrow. I struggled not to cringe, and was rewarded with a lascivious grin. "I've never kissed a dwarf before."
"Yeah? Well, I've never kissed a dog before, and I intend to keep it that way, you slick bastard," I grinned back. "Guess you're out of luck."
"Such cruelty," he moaned, letting his new friends drag him away. "Surely I will pine away and die because of this."
"And deny the darkspawn the chance to kill you? Now you're the cruel one," I called after him.
That had gone rather well. I gave a tight little shiver of excitement and daring as I thought about what to do next. Duncan had said he'd be busy for a while. Maybe I could explore.
I gravitated toward the familiar rhythmic clanging of the blacksmith and hung around the warm forge, getting in the way, until I wore out my welcome and the overworked man bribed me with a suit of standard-issue studded leather if I would take my nosy self out of his smithy. After that, I hovered around the edge of the officers' camp, afraid to wander into the maze of barracks tents and get lost, but curious about where the Gray Wardens lived.
Another young man was doing the same, but looking in towards the brightly striped tents of the royal guard, mages, and other High Grand Muckety-Mucks with a slight frown, as though waiting and worrying for someone. We eyed each other briefly but he seemed too distracted for me to want to try saying hello. After a few minutes his eyes suddenly grew wide and he started to duck behind the nearest tent, but a peremptory female voice screeched, "Alistair!"
He winced and turned back to her, reluctantly standing to attention. So this was Alistair? A gray-haired woman in elaborate Chantry robes gave him some orders I couldn't hear, and he saluted and marched off. After a moment's hesitation, I slunk after him, curious.
He wove through the tents for a while as though looking for someone, and finally found his quarry near the latrines. (I was glad to know where they were - I'd been wondering if people here just pissed in a ditch, or what.) He tapped a short, cranky-looking man in mage's robes on the shoulder and gave him some sort of message. The mage's face turned purple and he said something angry. I crept closer to listen in.
"I will not be harassed in this manner. I am busy with other tasks - on the King's orders, I might add," the pompous mage declared.
"Yes, I was harassing you by delivering a message," Alistair drawled.
"Your glibness does you no credit!"
"And here I thought we were getting along so well." Alistair sighed mournfully. "I was even going to name one of my children after you."
"Enough! I will go if I must. Out of my way, fool!" The infuriated man stomped off in disgust.
He passed right by where I lurked and the look on his face was so priceless, I burst out laughing. Alistair heard me appreciating his game and grinned impishly.
"You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it draws people together," he said.
I laughed, and we started chatting. I asked him why he and the mage had been sparring, and he explained about the rancor between the religious Chantry and the Circle of Magi.
"And it doesn't help that I used to be a Templar," he concluded.
"You were a mage-hunter?" I asked, startled, remembering Duncan's lecture on the nature of the Circle.
"Well, that's not all Templars do, but yes. I'm sure the Mother intended to insult that man by sending me as messenger, and he picked right up on that," he explained.
"Ah, so you are merely a victim of circumstance. Poor man, but a pawn in the game between Chantry and Circle," I teased.
"Yes! Finally, someone understands," he cried. "But enough about me. Who are you that understands my troubles so well?"
"I'm Latitia Brosca. Duncan brought me from Orzammar today," I said, and stuck out my hand. He shook it, his gauntlets rough against my fingers.
"I saw Gherric, I thought he must be here somewhere, I didn't know he'd found anyone. Is he here? He's been gone for ages." He said all this very quickly, his eyes eager.
"He's here, he's talking to the war council. Want me to show you? I should go back now anyway, before he starts looking for me."
He nodded and I tried to retrace my steps, letting him nudge me in the right direction once before I got oriented. Duncan was standing outside the tent and talking to a mismatched pair of men, one of them the suave Daveth and the other an older man with a greatsword and splintmail.
"Duncan," Alistair called, waving and beaming. I resisted rolling my eyes and tried to slink along in his shadow, hoping my return would go without comment. Duncan squeezed Alistair's shoulder in one of those understated male greetings before introducing us to the others.
"This is Ser Jory, a knight from Redcliffe, and this is Daveth, an entrepreneur from Denerim and a fine archer." Duncan indicated the others, and Daveth smirked at the word 'entrepreneur.' "Daveth, Jory, this is Alistair, a Gray Warden and your group leader for now. And this is Latitia - "
"We've met," Daveth interrupted, smirking.
Duncan raised an eyebrow at him, and continued, "Latitia Brosca of Orzammar, who has just joined us today. Now, as I was just explaining to these two," he turned back to me, "I need you four to make a trip into the Wilds for two purposes. One is to bring back fresh darkspawn blood for your Joining ritual, and the other is to visit an old cache of Gray Warden documents."
Duncan pulled out a creased and well-used map, pointing to a specific location marked 'cache.' "It lies enchanted against everyone except other Wardens, in a smaller tower a few miles east."
"Right at the edge of darkspawn territory," Alistair noted.
"Then it shouldn't be too hard to get some fresh blood, eh?" I grinned. "Sounds easy enough."
Things couldn't have gone better. This was exactly my line of work: Sneak through darkspawn territory, find a treasure, bring it back, and stay alive to do it again. I couldn't believe my luck that my first assignment would be so perfect.
"Right, travel through the Wilds past evil witches, barbarians, wolves and now darkspawn, how hard could it be?" Daveth laughed, but a little while showed around his eyes. He really was scared. Probably never even seen a darkspawn before. Ha!
"I've been outsmarting darkspawn since I was twelve," I boasted. I couldn't resist showing off just a little in front of Duncan. "I'll watch your back if you watch mine."
"Oh, I'll be watching, all right," he leered.
"Daveth, that will do," Duncan told him firmly. Torn between feeling guilty for provoking Daveth and being pleased at coming out on top, I decided to just shut up for the rest of the meeting.
"As I was saying," Duncan continued, refolding the map and handing it to Alistair, "The documents include treaties promising aid to the Gray Wardens from various parties. So long has passed since the last Blight, many have forgotten their promises, and the life-debt they owe the Wardens. These treaties may prove invaluable, for our numbers are too few to stop this Blight alone."
He rested his hand on Alistair's shoulder again. "Watch over your charges, Alistair, and return safely."
Alistair snapped to attention and saluted with considerably more eagerness than he had done for the Chantry harpy – I mean, Mother Superior – and, with a respectful nod to Duncan, we all turned to follow him out the east palisade gate. The guards warned us to be back before dark, and we stepped out into the swamps, loosening our weapons in their sheaths.