It took them a few days to make the journey to Ostagar from the Brecilian Forest, managing to make good time on horse and halla-back. Most of the time was spent in silence or light conversation. Yet it was also a time for attachment. The three men from such different stations, races, and walks of life grew closer. Koln slowly emerged from his silence to talk and interact with the others. Ceremal it seemed began to accept the other two as a new clan of sorts. And Saleà took in it all, thrilled to be out of the city and seeing the world, to be seeing a Dalish and seeing a kind human.
"There, can you see it now?" Koln spoke, easing his horse's pace as he pointed down the hillside. His mabari bounded on ahead , eyes set on a poor rabbit that had dared picked to see what the noise was about. One might mistakenly think Ostagar as an ancient place consumed by time and nature but in truth it was not so. Battlements, walls, towers of grey and browning stone standing stark against the greens of the forest. White ribbons of stoned road running like rivers. A thick bridgeway arching over the narrow pass in the hills. "That is Ostagar."
Saleà whistled softly in respect. "They sure picked the best spot with its natural defenses. It would take forever to bypass it and get to the lowlands we went through…"
"That's precisely why they built here. It was back before the First Blight, when the ancient Tevinter Imperium stretched this far south. It was used to watch for invasions of what are now called Chasind Wilders. But after the Imperium collapsed, many holdings such as Ostagar were abandoned." Koln trailed off, trying to remember what Aldous, the old historian who had lived at Castle Cousland, had taught him without choking. "I think the Wilders sacked it after that, but then left it alone."
Ceremal finally spoke, never taking his eyes off the countryside. Sure the land in and below Ostagar was crawling with humans and the wind was thick the scent of fires, men, dogs, horses, and blood of battle, but for the most part it seemed truly untouched. "But it has remained unmanned since then…? And the land near it unused? Why?"
Koln turned in the saddle, a grin playing on his features. "You mean why us humans haven't laid some sort of claim to it as we always seem to do?"
"Now I said no such thing-!" Ceremal shot back. But his shock was playful. Traveling so close and knowing that they would probably spend the rest of their lives together as Grey Wardens meant there was little room for racial tensions yet much room for learning.
"Truthfully? I don't know. Perhaps people want to leave the ruin alone, they fear being too close to the Korcari Wilds, they cannot build on it… It seems to be left as is and used when needed, such as times like this."
"I see…" Deep blue eyes went back to the landscape as the Dalish was lost to his own thoughts again. Thoughts to distract himself from the growing feeling of the darkness crawling beneath his skin. At the sudden weakness that sunk into his belly.
"Younglings! If you are done looking you should follow me," Duncan's voice drifted back up from his form hidden by trees, "Otherwise the lookouts might attack. And I don't want my recruits injuried."
"That would be a rather short tale." Saleà laughed. "The recruits made it to the land of the battle but were sadly killed by sentries. Opps! "
They eventually picked their way down and left their horses, Ceremal speaking softly to his halla before she turned back and disappeared into the trees. He knew she would return if he needed her and stay far out of reach in the meantime.
"The king's forces have fought with the darkspawn several times already, but I know the true force of the dark horde is still coming. That is why every Grey Warden in Ferelden is here: because the Blight must be stopped. Here and now, not allowed to push further north. It that happens, then Ferelden will surely fall." Duncan led them down one of the roads that would led them to the main camp. As expected men clad in armor stood guarding the road, ready to defend or send messages along.
What the three didn't expect was the man in shining gold armor, going at such a pace his two guards nearly had to run to keep up, came to meet them. Though he had no crown his bearing and armor marked him as Cailan Therin, King of Ferelden. Koln drew himself up straighter despite the king not looking in his direction.
"That's your king?" Ceremal whispered as he watched the man and Duncan speak. He was rather…young. Like a much too eager child who wanted to prove they could live without an adult. The armor looked more like a decoration than something to be worn and such a color that it would surely mark him as someone to attack first.
Saleà shrugged. His gold eyes darken a little as he watched the man's face. He might be king, but he was the human king. The one who watched over his own people but seemed to ignore others. How would he react when he learned that a mere elf had killed the son of one of his arls in revenge for raping his cousin?
"The other Wardens said you sent word that you had found some promising recruits." The king's attention suddenly turned on them, waving off Duncan's attempt at introduction. "We'll be shedding blood together so why be formal? Might I know your names?"
Saleà blinked in surprise, even though he had just seen it for himself it was odd to see that the king was really this… sunny. "Saleà Tabris, ser. Of the Denerim alienage."
The king's eyes widened and he leaned forward, trying to keep the conversation from his guards. "Will you tell me how it is there? My guards all but forbid me from going there!"
"Even though you are the king?" He couldn't help the tiny smile that tugged at his lips. "But I don't think I should talk about it now, ser."
"One day I'll see those walls taken down. Your people have suffered enough." And, despite all conviction not to, Saleà believed him.
"And you—you're Dalish! I hear your people have remarkable skill and honor." King Cailan turned now to Ceremal. The Dalish raised a brow in surprise. This sheltered pup of a king knew how to distinguish a Dalish?
"I am Ceremal Mahariel. You know of the Dalish?"
"Only a little. Our people don't exactly get along well, for mostly good reasons. But know that you are welcome here!" Ceremal found himself nodding, hiding a grin as he saw the two guards grumbling at his lack of shown respect to their king.
"You're Bryce's youngest, are you not?" Cailan's eyes immediately went to Koln's white hair. "I don't think we've ever actually met but I've heard about you. Your brother is here already with Highever's men but we were still awaiting your father…" He trailed off, eyes widening, shocked at the expression that came over the human's face.
"He's…" Koln's voice cracked no matter how much he willed it not to. "He's not coming. He was killed when…when our castle was taken."
"Dead? What do you mean!? What do you know about this Duncan?" The king turned shocked eyes to the Grey Warden.
"Teryn Cousland and his wife are dead, your Majesty. Arl Howe has shown himself a traitor and overtaken Highever Castle. Had we not escaped he would have killed us and told you any story he wished." Koln could scarcely see and hear the people around him. It was too soon, too fresh to even hear about it. Ceremal and Saleà unconsciously leaned closer to him in comfort. Keeping their reaction to the news to themselves.
The king shook his head and looked back at Koln to be sure, the Cousland's face telling all. "I can scarcely believe it! How could he think he could get away with such treachery? As soon as we are done here, I will turn my army north and bring Howe to justice." He settled his hands on Koln's soldier's so the young man would look at him. "You have my word."
"Thank you, your majesty… Is my brother…?"
"He and his men are out scouting in the Wilds. If he returns before the battle I will send word. But for now all I can suggest is venting your anger out on the darkspawn." He finally turned to Duncan, motioning. "I had better return. Loghain will no doubt have yet something else to talk to me about or approve or whatever. If you will meet me later, Duncan?"
"I will, your majesty. Allow me to instruct the recruits first."
"Of course! Farewell until the battle, future Grey Wardens!"
The four watched the king and his guards leave. "He seems…rather confident in himself. Near overconfident." Ceremal said slowly.
"Perhaps…" Duncan motioned for them to head towards the long bridge. "It is true the king's army has battled against the darkspawn several times here and won each, but their numbers grow stronger with each passing day. By now they might just win by sheer numbers. The king might regard Grey Wardens highly, but not enough to wait for reinforcements from the Grey Wardens of Orlais…"
Saleà snapped his finger as he understood. "He believes just having Grey Wardens here will make him invincible. That's why he was acting so excited."
Duncan had to smile a little as an outsider picked up so quickly on the problem. "Yes. There are very few of us, but every Grey Warden in Ferelden is here. That is why you are so important, and the Joining must take place without delay."
"What would you have us do Duncan?" Koln finally spoke again. His face showed no emotion, no hint of the paleness it had before. His hand rested on his sword and his Mabari paced at his side.
"You can explore the camp as you wish, resupplying and getting equipment. There is another Grey Warden, Alistair, that you should seek out when you are finished. Tell him to summon the other two recruits. I must talk with King Cailan and attend to other business, but if you need me I will be near the Grey Warden tent on the other side of the bridge." They all walked silently until they reached the other side, then bowed their heads in respect as they separated from Duncan.
"What do you think happens in this ritual? Duncan's being rather secretive about it…" Saleà wondered aloud. His curls snapped to and fro as his head turned to take in everything.
"I'm not sure, I never heard much about them expect their legends. But whatever it is must be for a reason- Ceremal! Are you allright?" Koln's voice turned from wondering to alarm as the Dalish stumbled hard against him. "Is it worse? You look pale."
Ceremal grinned a little but the motion turned into a tremor. "Saleà is the odd elf here. I think we're all supposed to be pale… But it will pass. Though I think I will just get my equipment and return to the tent." He Dalish pulled himself up tall and proud, gently waving off their offers of accompaniment. He knew they meant well, but it was still hard to feel so sick and weak and helpless.
The elf wandered in search of someone who sold or distributed weapons. He passed by brightly coloured tents, shaking his head. What was with humans and making themselves easy targets? If he were the enemy he would certainly head towards the two tents that stood out so starkly while the rest of the tents blended in with the forest. He took in all at the camp, noting it all so he could tell Merrill and the others about it all when, and it would be when!, he returned home. But the thing that made him stop was the sight of cages suspended a few feet off the ground…and was that a man inside!? Alarmed, Ceremal strode closer.
The man inside, stripped to his smallclothes, quickly spotted him. "Ha! Someone finally came to talk to the lone prisoner? I don't suppose you've come to sentence me?" The man's voice was tired and harsh, but his face spoke of many things.
"No, I have not." Ceremal's voice was soft, unaccusing. And the man immediately responded, shoulders sagging as the fight went out of him. "I don't suppose you have a bit of kindness in you? Food…water…that's all I want. They haven't fed me since I was locked up and I'm starving!"
Long pointed ears picked up the sound of pointedly loud chewing. He looked to see the guard crunching into an apple, bits of the pale sweet flesh getting stuck in his beard. The guard sneered at the prisoner and continued without a word. The prisoner tried to keep his eyes from it but his body quivered with need nonetheless. "Don't worry. I'll find you a fresh meal and water. It would be much better than forcing the guard's scraps from him."
The prisoner's expression was guarded, as if he could not allow himself to hope or believe. Ceremal quickly found the quartermaster, who amusing mistook him for one of the flat-ears running around (though it was rather infuriating how many of the humans just pushed them around), quickly bought himself more arrows and leather straps to repair those on his boots. He found the kitchen tent nearby where women were flying back and forth to prepare meals and easily received what he required, though he left rather confused why anyone would consider him "just skin and bone!".
"You….you brought me back food! Oh may Andraste herself rain blessings on you!" The prisoner exclaimed when Ceremal returned. He reached for it eagerly, nearly knocking it out of the Dalish's hands when he slipped it through the bars. The man dug into it sure not to waist a single crumb. He would have left him, but another wave of dizziness overcame Ceremal that he tried to hide by leaning against the nearby post.
"I'm a deserter, or so they think." The man offered between mouthfuls. "Bet there's no way of changing their minds since armies tend to be funny like that."
"Did you?"
"No!...but when you catch someone sneaking around camp in the middle of the night, what else is someone going to think? I wasn't sneaking out, I was stealing!" Ceremal would have smacked his forehead at the revelation, but he was too polite and dizzy to follow through with the thought. "I got one of those weird emotionless wizards drunk and took his key. It belongs to a chest of magical treasures they got here!"
Ceremal chuckled. "Now don't you think that is a tiny bit of payback for stealing?" He held out his hand. "You really should give it back. It might be needed for the battle. And who knows? The mage might be so grateful it will help with your release."
The man hung his head, thinking as he tossed the key back and forth. "You're right. Here. Will you return it for me?" He dropped the key into his hand. "Even if they don't…..well, thanks for the food anyways." Ceremal eventually found the mage the man had been speaking up. Normally he would have been shocked and alarmed at the emotionless way the man fretted about looking for the key and then in turn thanking him for its return (they did this to their own mages!?) but by then nausea was creeping up on him and the black crawling beneath his skin at a frenzy. He barely managed to find the tent Duncan spoke of and sat down, closing his eyes in an attempt to force the feelings away.
Back across camp Koln was heading straight for the brightly coloured tents his companion had seen before. Despite the smells and excitements of the camp Neera stayed close to his side. Gold and Blue, the king's colours. Koln ignored them and went to the one he sought: Gold and Green, the colours of Teryn Loghain. He had only ever seen the man on rare occasions, mostly when he was a small boy. Ferelden only had two terynirs left: his own home of Highever and Gwaren located on the east coast.
A man clearly standing guard out front snapped as soon as he got close, "You approach the tent of Teryn Loghain! State you business!"
A white brow raised at the man's quick words. He surreptitiously drew his shoulders back and widened his stance, pushing his cloak away from the arm that rested on his sword. The man might be doing his duty, but he needed to speak with the only other surviving teryn. "Is the teryn inside? I need to speak with him."
"He is present…I…" He cast his eyes over Koln, judging whose wrath would be the worse to contend with. "I suppose if you have a message, hold a moment?" He darted into the tent. Soon quick words darted back and forth, followed by such cursing Neera cocked her head in amusement. Loghain, a large older man dressed in much more useful armor, emerged. His expression of annoyance didn't dissipate when he saw Koln, only grow.
"Yes, what is it? Ah, one of Duncan's new Grey Warden, of course. His majesty could not contain his excitement after your meeting, how could I not hear about you." The man barely gave him room to talk. The man's displeasure was palpable. "Hold a moment. You look familiar…" Loghain's eyes widened ever so slightly, and an odd expression came over his face.
Koln wasn't sure what to make of it but he still answered. "I am Koln Cousland, ser. My father was the Teryn of Highever."
"Ah, yes." The taunt skin around his eyes, the tightening of his jaw, the clenching of a gloved fist. Each movement minute in its own right, and probably each had its own purpose. Yet…there was something… "The king told me of his promise. I am certain he has every intention of following through." Yes. The speed and clipping of his words.
"I just wanted to make sure you knew." Koln felt a little pride that this time he didn't let his emotions rule his face. "In case Howe contacts you to tell you otherwise or attempts to try the same thing on your own lands. So what happened to my family doesn't happen again…" If only we had seen the signs or been warned…
"Yes yes, of course." Why wouldn't the Teryn look at his eyes? Don't be foolish, he probably figured Howe might try the same with him and doesn't need some youngster trying to help. Other things, here and now, are probably more important. "I…don't suppose you'll be riding into the thick of battle with the rest of your fellows will you?"
"I don't see why not, ser. Why else would Duncan have brought us?"
"Good, very good." Loghain smiled ever so slightly. "Now I must return to my task." And with that he was dismissed.
Needing no equipment that he knew about, Koln wandered towards the sound (and smell) of dogs. Mabari were always used in battle. It was what they were breed for. He always had a spot of recognition and concern for them. After all, Neera herself was his fighting companion. The kennels were easy to find, the dogs waking, sleeping, play fighting, and all things dogs are want to do. There was one caged by itself, however, that whined pitifully and lay on its side.
"What's wrong with you, pup?" Koln spoke softly. The dog growled weakly, willing his body into an aggressive stance that immediately wavered.
"His owner died in the last battle and he's swallowed darkspawn blood. I have medicine that might work but I can't even muzzle him despite him being so weak…" The kennelmaster eyed Neera. "It might not work but could you try? I hate to lose him…"
"Of course I'll try." Koln made the silent command with his hand for Neera to stay put. Her eyes stayed on him and her haunches twitched, ready to defend her master should the other dog attack. He crouched even before entering the small pen to make himself appear less threatening, slowly holding out an ungloved fist for the dog to catch his scent. The dog finally backed down and looked up with intelligent eyes reflecting respect and pain. A lot of pain. "Hey there. Not feeling too good are you? I know you don't want to feel sicker, but better. Can we help?"
The dog slowly bowed his head and Koln scratched behind his ears. With his free hand he motioned for the muzzle. The dog did not challenge him as he put it on; finally realizing that the only way the pain would ease was if he accepted help. "Well I'll be… now only if this medicine can cure him."
"You don't think it can?" Koln stood and moved so the kennelmaster could enter the pen.
"I'm not sure. I think this would only ease it. What I really need is a Wilds Flower, that would really give him a fighting chance. But I can't leave all the dogs just for one to look for it… perhaps you could look for it? It's completely white with a blood red center and smells of—"
"Honey?" Koln dug into his pack. That sounded familiar. "I might just… One of my companions kept gathering plants on the journey here. Ran out of room in his and started putting some in mine… Ah! Here, is this it?"
"Yes! I can't believe—I'll make the medicine right away! If it works he should be better in one or two days. We'll see if he'll imprint on another soldier then, though he might come looking for you."
The two laughed at the prospect. "I would rather keep my Neera than see her kill another member of her breed. But I will check on him nonetheless in the coming days."
Koln bid the kennelmaster farewell and continued through the camp. He was hailed by a man, Ser Jory, whom had been one of their knights in Highever and was a Grey Warden recruit as well. The man was worried about their home having already heard the news of Arl Howe's betrayal, more about the pregnant wife he had left behind. Koln calmed him as best he could; since the attack had only been concentrated on Castle Cousland he figured that the rest of Highever was safe as it might be. Relieved, the man moved on the Duncan's tent. Koln followed, after speaking with a older female mage called Wynne that reminded him so much of his mother it twisted his heart. She quietly understood his request for a prayer for the dead, for his fallen parents and the others at Highever, and safety, for his brother and his men.
Across camp Saleà noticed a group of tents grouped off to one side, guarded by a line of full armored men. A few people dressed in robes were standing before the tents. Surrounded by shimmering light, waving their hands at nothing in the air with distant looks in their eyes. What in the world were they doing?
He must have stepped too close, for a Templar stopped him. "The mages must not be interrupted. Their spirits are in the Fade."
"The Fade?" He could almost hear the templar rolling his eyes underneath the helm. "The Fade is a realm of dreams and the dead…so the mages tell us. Regardless they are not to be disturbed, not even by the Grey Wardens."
"Sorry! I'll just…carry on." Saleà moved away but his eyes went back to the mages. They could enter the place where dreams appeared willingly? What did they see? What were they trying to do there? Could they explain the strange and vivid dreams he had been dreaming since he was little? Probably not the best thing to ask right before a battle.
"If you would just stand still for a moment and let a healer look at it!"
"Carver! I said no! It'll heal on its own, so they can help the actually wounded. Now drop it."
Two warriors strode across Saleà's path, trying to keep their argument quiet but quickly failing at it. The younger, the one he figured was Carver, seemed around 18 years old with black hair and green eyes. The other was a few years older and shared enough similarities that they had to be brothers. A red wound slashed across his nose, not enough to mangle his handsome face but enough to scar if left as it was.
"You just want it to scar…" Carver grumbled as he flopped down to sit on a log, leaning his sword next to him. Saleà had to smile a little at the obvious sibling relationship. Only a brother or sister could worry over the sibling one minute and then fight with them the next.
The brother must have seen his smile since he gave a playful one back, thrusting his thumb over his shoulder. "Hey, you agree with me, right? The eldest always wins~"
"Leave me out of this, I'm an only child!" Saleà and the man laughed, Carver rolling his eyes. "Cousins, on the other hand, I can talk about."
"Garrett Hawke, of Lothering. That's Carver, one of my siblings." The man extended his hand and Saleà shook it, answering. "Saleà Tabris, from Denerim."
The rogue sat down to talk with the two and right away lost all track of time. Garrett and Carver were both swordsmen and had fought in the two battles so far. Garrett had gotten his wound in the last battle saving a companion (who came to see him at one point in the conversation. A red-haired soldier named Aveline so strong and sure that Saleà liked her; though he had the wise thought not to speak out loud the how she reminded him of the Knight Aveline of Orlais. Carver made that mistake and she let him have it.). The two came from the small town of Lothering that was north of Ostagar, where they had a small farm and they had left their mother, Leandra, and Carver's twin sister, Bethany. There was no mention of a father and Saleà didn't press. The Hawke brothers had also brought along their mabari, a male named Ian, who insisted on resting his big slobbering head across the elf's lap. He seemed like a big puppy until you took notice of the blood around his mouth. In turn Saleà spoke of the father and cousins and community he had left behind in the alienage. He didn't realize until that moment how much he missed all of them.
Eventually, another soldier approached them. He seemed used to fighting and battles, but there was something about his face or eyes that gave off the feeling he was going to pull a prank or crack a joke. He nodded to the two Hawkes but looked at Saleà. "Hey, are you city elf that Duncan brought as a recruit? He sent me to find you."
"Yes?"
"Finally! I'm Alistair, one of the Grey Wardens."
Saleà cursed. "Opps. And here I was going to come find you." He bid farewell to the brothers and followed Alistair, who was finding the last recruit named Daveth.
"I get sidetracked all the time. Duncan's reprimands are constant~" Alistair grinned but his eyes darted back and forth, like he expected the Grey Warden to appear from nowhere and slap him in the head. "Anyways. As the junior member of the Order I'll be accompanying you and the others while you prepare for the Joining."
"Wait, so that means me and the others will be the babies of the Wardens? All the work and the jokes and stuff pushed on us?" Saleà stopped in mock terror.
"Yes! Do you know how long I've been waiting for this day? Oh you'll never be able to—" Alistair suddenly stopped, words midsentence and foot half raised. Saleà nearly ran into him. He followed the Warden's gaze across the camp. It was just Duncan and who he figured were the two other recruits, Koln and his mabari, and Ceremal leaning against his beam with his eyes closed. He was paler than normal and seemed to be taking deeper breathes. The taint must be spreading faster through his body.
"Who…who is that?" Alistair shook the elf's shoulder and not-so-subtly pointed at the Dalish.
"Ceremal? You didn't meet him yet?"
Alistair drew back in shock. "That's a guy?!" A blush came and went across his cheeks. The young Warden coughed sheepishly. "I-I knew that. We should probably join them now."
Now what was that all about?
The five recruits stood in a semi circle in front of Duncan, waiting for orders or an explanation as to what would happen next. Koln and Saleà stood on either side of their Dalish friend as Duncan reprimanded Alistair for riling the mages before turning to them.
"Since you are all here we can begin." He started. "The six of you will be heading into the Korcari Wilds to perform two tasks. The first is to find a Grey Warden archive in the Wilds, abandoned long ago when he could no longer afford to keep remote outposts. We have learned recently that some scrolls were left behind, magically sealed to protect them. Alistair, I want you to retrieve the scrolls if you can."
Alistair nodded, looking serious for a moment. Though it disappeared as soon as Duncan's attention went elsewhere and Saleà caught him sneaking another glance at Ceremal, whose wave of dizziness had finally passed.
"And the second task, Duncan?" Koln asked.
He held out a hand that contained five glass vials. "We just fill each of these with the blood of a darkspawn."
He had begun to lose count of the days of his just punishment. 10, 15, 20? What did it matter... He pushed aside the weak thoughts. He willed the pain in his legs to go away, since all he could do in the cage was stand or sit with his legs drawn up. Violet eyes cast over the cage's surroundings to pick an object. To speak the name of the object in his mind in the common language and all other things he could think of starting with the same letter.
He wasn't able to get very far when the growingly familiar sound of bare feet on the earth came closer to his cage. The imekari had come again. The odd human child had appeared sometime after he had been put in the cage, the first of his age to approach without fear. This was mostly likely due to the fact he didn't seem to be like, or at the very least being raised like, the other basra children. Thin, barely taller than his waist, skin smudged with dirt or light scratches, wild hair he tried to keep under a bandana, and ragged clothes with patches on patches.
The imekari smiled up at him, little sounds of air leaving his throat in what the prisoner figured was a laugh. The boy never spoke because he could not. He had learned this only a few days before when his curiosity had won out and he had finally spoken to the boy. Small hands easily slipped through the spaces between the bars. A small container held fresh water was offered in one hand while the other held a small wooden bowl covered with a cloth. Underneath was a hunk of bread, some cheese, and a handful of fruit and vegetables. Nothing close to feed a warrior his size, but more than enough to feed the child's belly.
Since that first time the child had approached the cage he appeared when he could to sneak the prisoner food and water.
"Spend your day well, Imekari." Sten rested his hand over the child's head in his form of thanks. He could crush his head with the strength of one bare hand, but he would not. Not this child. Dual colored eyes twinkled up at him before the urchin darted away to trail behind a group of workers that left the town to work in the outlying farms.
Imekari translates as child in their language. Child. Cat. Captain. Captive. Chair….
"Mother!" Bethany Hawke shouted as she jumped up the front porch, setting a basket of eggs down with one hand with removing her hair tie with the other. "That boy's here over midday again!"
"Oh dear…" Leandra stepped into the doorway, grey haired pulled back from her aged but gentle face. She looked past her daughter out into the garden, where indeed the boy was hoeing in the garden while the rest of the workers had gone back into Lothering for the midday meal. Truth be told the boy was one of the hardest workers she had seen or hired from the town to help work the farm while her sons were away at war. "Will you go run and bring him in? I'll give him something to eat."
"But Mom… we don't feed the rest of them…"
"Bethany! You should know better. We have enough to share, plus I keep making food enough for four even though your brothers aren't here. He works hard and could use the help even though he never asks. I think if I lived on the streets even the littlest kindness could be the biggest blessing."
Knowing her mother was right and she would lose the argument, Bethany silently went and retrieved the boy. So began the usual dance of her mother trying to get him into the house to eat at the table only to have him go as far as sitting on the steps. He tried to eat only a little bit while Leandra tried to stuff into him. And it was only after Leandra tried to tie a kerchief full of food for him to take back to whatever place he called home did he take it. On top of that Leandra slipped cookies into his pocket, which Bethany had to admit was worth it when he smiled in delight.
And of course, as always, when they turned he was gone, back to work, a little wood carving left on the porch in thanks. This time it was a little dragon peeking out of its egg.
So the boy worked hard, thinking of the cookies he would share with his friend later on.
So, yeah. I've pretty much given it away extremely early what I'm planning to do with Saleà. Since Aveline, Hawke, and Carver all fight at Ostagar I had to include them here, since I plan on making a sequel to this story that covers Dragon Age II. But you'll never be able to guess the transition though :P
But the part I'm worried about is the "child" that I had interact with Sten at the end here. When writing stories off Origins, its one of the few times that you can basically make/insert an original character and have them do/act as you want because that's such an integral part of the game. The child, who'll be named later, was originally from a short side story based off a silly idea I had at one point when thinking about Sten's character. Now that I finally figured out a purpose for him I decided to include him in the story as well.
I have to warn now (while I don't mind I know a fair bit of readers do mind) he's probably the most original character for the story I will include. That, and what he turns out to be/his purpose, is also almost entirely original. Aka I made it up XD I hope you'll like him though!
