As always I would like to thank my reviewers, lurkers and those of you that set alerts or favorites! I really do appreciate your interest in my creation and I hope that I can keep it entertaining for you all! I would also like to apologize for the fairly short chapter...i'm being lazy because I'm currently working on two more projects. OVERLOAD!

If you're looking for some great writers you should definitely go check out VioletTheirin and Ladyamesindy. The Tangled Web We Weave contains some primo Bannhammer action that will knock your socks off and The Sands of Time will absolutely blow you away! Please go read and review them, you won't regret it, I promise!

Bioware owns me…err…most of the stuff in this story! Thank you a million times over for letting me play in your world!

Early the next morning as Camlin and Dorian trudged toward the dining hall the quiet calm of the keep was shattered by a bellow.

"What in the soddin' hell is that nug-humpin' elf doin' here," the voice yelled, echoing off the stone walls. They both froze in the hallway just before they reached the door, the new warden shooting the other a confused look. Dorian visibly cringed and rolled his eyes, but with a shake of his head he motioned for Camlin to keep moving.

They rounded the corner to see a blond mage standing quite near a slightly wobbly fire-bearded dwarf. The mage was biting his lip to suppress the laughter he struggled to keep at bay as he peered at the stout little man who was standing on the bench that slid up to the long table. The dwarf stabbed a meaty finger in the direction of the Antivan elf as if pointing would make him magically disappear. "Damn elf."

The blond mage smirked. "So, you like elves do you?"

The stocky dwarf swayed on the bench, but miraculously regained his balance before turning on the mage and shaking his fist at him. "Draw your sword and say that again, pretty boy," he raged as the mage continued to smirk at him with a quirked eyebrow, "Oh, that's right…you manskirt-wearing freaks don't carry those do ya! Soddin' nancy boy! Go…play with your stick, Sparklefingers!"

The dwarf seemed particularly pleased with the last bit as he laughed loudly while wiggling his short digits in the other man's face. His countenance was a picture of triumph but his victory was short lived as he toppled off of the bench and landed flat of his back on the dusty stone floor. Zevran and the mage laughed heartily at the dwarf as he groaned. "Thunderhumper," he cursed as he tried to pick himself up off the floor.

Dorian covered his eyes with his hand and let out a long sigh. "Well then, the stout fellow with the big mouth is Oghren, the mage he's heckling is Anders. I would advise staying as far away from the dwarf as possible unless you want to get drunk off of his fumes."

"Yeah, the only thing worse than having to deal with Dorian's attempts at playing healer is catching a good whiff of Oghren before breakfast," Alistair chimed in from behind them, "speaking of which…"

Alyssan grinned and gave Camlin a good natured thump on the shoulder as she and her second passed them and took a seat at Zevran's side. A few more wardens trickled in and crowded at the table as the morning's fare was being served. Even Oghren, who had finally managed to get up off the floor with some assistance from Anders had plopped down on the bench.

The plate had barely hit the table before Camlin was steadily shoving the overly hot food into his mouth. He felt like he had starved himself for a week straight. He stopped with the fork halfway to his mouth when he heard one laugh being covered by a lame attempt at a cough and a quiet yet high pitched tittering from the commander. As he glanced around the table he noticed that everyone was looking down at their plates and either blatantly smirking or trying not to laugh. Bewildered, he looked at Alyssan with wide eyes and shrugged his shoulders as if to say "What?"

The entire table erupted into laughter, save one very confused Camlin. Irritated that he seemed to be the butt of some new-guy joke he finally asked "what's so funny?" The commander had collapsed onto Alistair's shoulder and tears glistened in her eyes as she managed to choke out something that sounded kind of close to Nathaniel.

At the sound of his name, Nathaniel Howe straighten up at the end of the table and tried to give the young man a concerned look, though he almost lost his composure when he saw that his fork was still hovering between his plate and face, frozen in place and accompanied by a seriously perplexed look. Nate's steel colored eyes still glinted with humor as he chuckled. "It's not going anywhere," he told him jerking his chin towards his plate, "fully cooked…no intention of escape."

Camlin looked back at his half empty plate, noticed his fork was still stationed between it and his mouth and shot another crazy look at the commander. She was sitting up straight again and grinning at him widely. Keeping his eyes on her he sat the fork down carefully. "I guess your new roommate didn't clue you into certain things last night," she said, leaning forward so she could wave an admonishing finger at Dorian, "some mentor you are!"

Dorian's pointed ears turned pink all the way to their tips, as he shot Camlin an apologetic grin. "Sorry, Cam..." he said in a truly apologetic tone, "one of the things that changes about you after you take the joining is that you gain an extremely overzealous appetite. Every time you eat it feels like you haven't touched anything all day and at times, especially for new wardens, we tend to lose our…table manners." He gave Camlin a meaningful look as he brushed at his own face with the tip of his index finger.

Camlin's naturally tanned skin darkened slightly as he grabbed up his napkin and began violently scrubbing at his face causing yet another outburst of laughter from the table. After the laughter had died down they all settled into good natured chatter while finishing up their morning meal. Camlin learned that Nathaniel, Anders and Oghren took their joining soon after the commanders arrival at Vigil's Keep, that Rogi and Branwynn Harrad were a brother and sister team recruited from Orzammar seven months before, and that Dorian and Nalaura had requested to join the order from the Tower of Magi only three months ago.

He was amazed at how seamlessly all of the different personalities seemed to fit together, even the newest of the group seemed comfortable in their new home. There was a definite spirit of kinship in this place and he noticed that even Zev, though he was not a member of the order, seemed completely accepted here. This was so different from the cramped apartment space he had been stuffed into in Antiva. Yes, he thought, this would be a fine place to call home.

After breakfast was finished Dorian had taken him to Wade's shop to look at new armor. As soon as the shopkeeper's eyes raked over the old antivan leathers he began clicking his tongue in disapproval. "No, no no. THAT will never do. No style, no flair…" the man rambled as he rummaged through a nearby crate, "does no one take pride in their creations anymore? Don't they understand the ART?"

Camlin cut his eyes to his companion and raised a silent inquiry. Dorian gave his head a quick shake as if to imply "Don't ask." Both of them nearly jumped out of their skin when Wade suddenly let out a shriek and started throwing various pieces of a black scaled armor toward Harren who would catch them and place them on the counter as if this were an everyday occurrence. Harren had a deep frown etched on his face as he motioned for Camlin to come look at the leathers that were now neatly lined up. He had to admit, the man had excellent taste. They were some of the finest leathers that Camlin had ever laid eyes on, but he also knew that he'd never be able to afford anything even close to the quality of the garments that lay before him.

The black scales glistened in the morning sun and formed beautiful patterns across the chest and legs. The thick leather of the shoulder guards, wrist guards, knee pads, and elbow guards had been inlayed with an intricate design that just begged to be seen but was tasteful and didn't detract from the appearance of the armor set as a whole. He appraised each piece separately as Wade watched with a gleam of approval in his eye.

"You see, Harren," he said as he motioned to Camlin, "THIS is a man who appreciates craftsmanship. He knows the quality of fine drake scale when he lays eyes on it!"

"Oh yes, Master Wade," Harren replied with a roll of his eyes, "a definite connoisseur of fine leather products…that cost a considerable amount."

Camlin took a step back from the counter though his eyes still roamed over the piece covetously. "He is right, Wade. Such a work would be far beyond what someone like me could afford."

Harren smirked and started to move the leathers off the counter but stopped dead and frowned when Wade yanked the jerkin from his hands. "Nonsense," the man shrieked, "this is not an item meant for a box…it is to be worn in all its glory! You will take this and wear it as it should be worn; the warden commander has covered all your costs here. Now go…GO! Can't you see I have work to do?"

The man had gathered the leathers and matching boots and thrust them into Camlin's arms before rushing him and Dorian out of the shop area. Dorian chuckled as he observed the confused look on the young man's face. "You'd better go put that on before Wade flies into a tizzy, trust me, you don't want that."

Camlin smirked at the mage. "You mean, that wasn't a tizzy?" The look on his friend's face said that it wasn't even close. He sighed and returned to the keep to try on his newest prized possession.