AN: Here's chapter 6, everybody! Before reading, I wanted to apologize in advance as I will be headed on vacation in a few days and will not have internet, so I won't be able to post new chapters. BUT, that will give me plenty of time to keep writing and stay ahead of what I have posted. I will post again as soon as I am back. Also, I want to thank Coalharth for following this story and Stacy for reviewing. As always, I do not own Dragon Age and please follow/favorite and review! Enjoy!
Chapter 6
Grey Wardens
Alistair was exhausted when they finally made it back to Ostagar. He hated to admit it, but Morrigan got them back to the camp in record time, even dodging darkspawn and wolves and whatever else was blood thirsty enough to attack them.
"There you are, wardens," Morrigan said in a bored tone once the wooden gate came into view.
"Thank you, Morrigan. It's been a pleasure," Braden replied with a small nod and a grateful smile. All politeness and charm; it made Alistair want to gag. The mage obviously fancied the witch, which astounded the former Templar. She was rude, haughty, and majorly condescending.
Thankfully, the woman only gave Braden a brief nod in return before disappearing into the shadows of the trees. "Creepy," Alistair muttered before turning back to the wooden gate. After a couple knocks on the gate, it opened and the party filed inside the ruins.
"I'll meet you all at the camp. I need to stop by the kennels and give them the herb I found," Nuala stated before walking over to the kennels, not giving Alistair a chance to tell her to be quick. Instead, he sighed and continued towards the Warden's camp, the bonfire at its center blazing bright and hot.
Duncan was waiting for them there, as was a cloaked figure, who turned when the Warden Commander looked up to the approaching party. Alistair's breath caught when he saw her. Her hood was down, revealing her features, and by the Maker what lovely features. She had bright green eyes, a delicate nose settled nicely between them, with full lips at its base. Her jaw was square and her cheeks were full, giving her a youthful appearance. Her dark brown hair was tied back in a loose braid that fell down her left shoulder. She was slender, built for speed, it looked like, rather than strength.
At her side stood a russet colored mabari that eyed them with both wariness and curiosity. With each step, Alistair and the others made closer, the war hound inched closer to the woman, even putting itself between her and the newcomers. Alistair assumed the hound belonged to the mysterious woman.
"Alistair, good to see you made it out of the Wilds, but where is Nuala?" Duncan asked, worry lacing his tone.
"Oh, she had some business, at the kennels," Alistair replied, having to fight not to stare at the beautiful, cloaked woman. He wasn't able to keep from glancing at her occasionally though, which Duncan noticed.
"Well, we'll wait for her to get started then. In the meantime, this is Lady Guinevere Cousland," Duncan stated, indicating the cloaked beauty. Alistair felt his eyes widen. She was a noble, a member of one of the most prominent families in Ferelden, outside of the Theirins and the Guerrins.
"It's an honor, my Lady," Braden stated, stepping forward with a slight bow. The man just exuded charm, apparently. Jory rushed to give her a slight bow as well, pink rising to his cheeks at his oversight of decorum. Daveth looked rather speechless, which Alistair could most definitely understand, since he was rendered thus as well.
Lady Cousland graced them each with a small smile, but when she regarded Alistair, her gaze hardened, eyes darting to look at his face. Oh, Maker… she may recognize me! The ex-templar thought with dismay. Curse his father and his damned dominant genes.
After a moment of study, she shook her head very slightly and finally looked away, confusion lighting her eyes. Alistair breathed a small sigh of relief. She didn't recognize him, or really, his Theirin heritage. Duncan was the only person in their company who knew his secret, and he hoped to keep it that way.
"Lady Guinevere, this is Alistair, a junior warden," Duncan stated, clapping a hand on the ex-templar's shoulder. "And these are most of our recruits. Braden Amell hails from the Circle of Magi, we found Daveth in Denerim, and Ser Jory is a knight of Redcliffe. Lady Nuala Aeducan should be returning shortly."
"Good to meet you all," she said graciously.
Duncan turned back to Alistair and the recruits, saying, "Lady Guinevere is our guest for the evening, while she awaits her brother's return from the Wilds."
"You honor us, my Lady," Alistair remarked, bowing slightly. Thank the Maker his tongue finally returned to him.
"It is you all that are doing me the favor," Guin replied, eyes focused once again on the ex-templar. Her green gaze looked conflicted: grateful, but sad and angry, too. Exhaustion shadowed her eyes and loss tightened the skin around her lips. She looked like she was barely holding together, but at the same time, stood with the practiced poise of a noble woman.
At that moment, Nuala walked back into the camp. "Sorry for the wait, Duncan. The kennel master had asked me for help, and I couldn't say no," she stated addressing the Warden Commander as she approached. Her eyes fell to the newcomer and widened slightly. "Lady Guinevere! You're alive?! How are you? How did you get here?" she asked, voice surprised and polite, but still tempered. The tone in her voice surprised Alistair, who had only heard impatience and annoyance from her since he met her.
Lady Cousland smiled at the dwarf, "I am… alright, my lady. I'm here on family business. I hear you are to be a warden! Congratulations." Her voice seemed a little strained to Alistair, like forced cheer. She did seem genuinely happy to see the dwarf – though he had no idea how they knew each other.
Duncan cleared his throat, and everyone fell silent, even Lady Cousland. "I'm sorry, My Lady, but we must prepare for the Joining. Alistair, bring the recruits to the ruined temple and we will begin."
Alistair nodded dutifully, worry turning his stomach. They couldn't explain the Joining here, not in front of Lady Cousland. It was a closely guarded secret, after all. If it got out what went into the ceremony, no one would become a warden, and then, there would be no one to stop a blight.
"Soooo, how do you know Lady Cousland?" Braden asked, coming up behind Nuala as they followed Alistair to where the Joining would be held. He didn't miss the former templar's slight turn of his head so he could hear the dwarf's response better.
"We met at King Cailan's coronation – or, well, at his tourney. The dwarves of Orzammar have always been allies to the throne of Ferelden," Nuala answered, a smile lighting her face as she recalled a memory. "Neither one of us were really thrilled with being paraded around in gowns at the balls. Instead, we participated in the tournament – against our fathers' wishes – and met on the field of battle. She wielded dual weapons and was fast as the head of a deepstalker. She clobbered Bhelen good before…." And then her smile fell from her face. Her eyebrows furrowed over her shiny steel grey eyes. Frowning, she cleared her throat, shook her head, and stated gruffly, "we should be worrying about the Joining."
"I already am worried about the Joining," Jory muttered. He eyed the junior warden ahead of them and asked, "can it really kill us?"
"We do pay a heavy price for what we are. Fate may decide you pay now, rather than later," was Alistair's solemn reply. He continued a second later, with a small encouraging smile. "But, any darkspawn could kill you just as easily. Don't worry, Duncan wouldn't have chosen you and brought you here if he didn't think you could handle it."
"Well, let's hurry it up then. I'm anxious to see this Joining," Daveth remarked.
They walked the rest of the way to the ruined temple in quiet, which bothered Braden considerably. He never liked the quiet, especially the weighty kind. The mage did not want to be left alone with his thoughts, his anxieties. This ceremony would change his life. It would permanently remove him from the circle and Templar control, but he would forever be standing vigilant against the threat of darkspawn and the blight. That was quite a bit of responsibility, more than he knew how handle. Thankfully, the Grey Wardens were a large number in Ferelden. He would be able to learn how to cope with the duty.
"The more I hear about this Joining, the less I like it," Jory groused as they came to a stop amidst the crumbling stone of the old temple.
"Are you blubbering again?" Daveth huffed with a frown.
"Well, why all these damned tests? Have I not earned my place?" Jory argued, hands flying in to the air in annoyance.
"Maybe it's tradition. Or maybe they're just trying to annoy you," the rogue grumbled.
"Yep, that's it. Only the fighters who can withstand the irritation may stay to become a Grey Warden," Braden stated sarcastically with an eyeroll, becoming quite exasperated with Jory's constant complaining. But this was better than the heavy silence.
"Would you all just shut up? We're in this together right now, we're all anxious, but if we want to be Grey Wardens, we must go through with the Joining," Nuala growled, frown turned into a scowl with her annoyance.
"I just know that my wife is in Highever with a child on the way. If they had warned me…. It just doesn't seem fair," Jory murmured, hanging his head.
"If you have so much at stake, why did you come in the first place?" Braden demanded. If he were in the man's shoes, with a pregnant wife, he would not have left her side for anything. Not that he would be likely to ever be in the man's shoes.
"And if they had told you, would you have come?" Nuala added.
"Maybe that's why they don't tell anyone. The wardens do what they must right?" Daveth argued.
"Including sacrificing us?" Jory asked incredulously.
Daveth scowled at the 'brave' knight and said gravely, "I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end the Blight."
"You make a good point, Daveth. My people have been fighting the Darkspawn in the deep roads for ages, and we've been losing ground. Imagine if the Grey Wardens didn't have the numbers to combat it because ninnies like you, Jory, were too cowardly to go through with a little ritual," Nuala snarled. Ok, that was really harsh, even if it was true.
"Maybe you'll die, maybe we'll all die, but if we don't try, then everyone will die for sure," Daveth added, nodding with Nuala.
"I've just never faced a foe I couldn't fight with my blade," Jory mumbled.
Braden didn't miss Alistair staying completely out of the conversation, standing back from the group with his armored arms crossed tightly across his chest. He had a frown on his face as he waited, listening to the recruits argue. When Duncan came into view, he stood up straight, arms falling to his sides.
"At last, we come to the Joining," the warden said as he approached the motley crew. "The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation. So it was, that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint."
"We're… we're going to the drink the blood of those – those things?!" Jory demanded, eyes wide in disgust and fear.
"As the first Grey Wardens did before us. As we did before you. This is the source of our power and our victory," Duncan answered calmly. Braden frowned. This sounded an awful lot like blood magic, drawing power from the life source of a living being. Admittedly, darkspawn might as well be undead, but the thought was still revolting to the mage, especially after the events that preceded his leaving the tower.
"Those who survive the Joining are immune to the taint. We can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the archdemon," Alistair supplied.
"Let's get on with it then. We've spent enough time standing around, talking," Nuala sighed, stepping forward slightly.
"We say a few words prior to the Joining, but they have been said since the first," the warden said before he turned to the junior warden. "Alistair, if you would?"
Alistair nodded, bowing his head as if to pray. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day, we will join you."
Duncan turned back towards the recruits, holding the chalice with the darkspawn blood concoction inside. Nuala had stepped forward, volunteering to go first so the warden offered the chalice to her. The dwarf took it and gazed at the contents inside before steeling herself and taking a sip. Her spine stiffened after a few seconds and Duncan quickly took the chalice from her to keep the liquid from spilling.
A strangled scream escaped her clenched teeth, her eyes wide and unseeing, hands fisting at her sides. After another moment, she collapsed to the ground, and Braden couldn't tell if she still lived. Alistair stepped forward and kneeled beside her, checking for a pulse or breath escaping her nose. The relieved look the ex-templar sent Duncan made Braden relax just slightly. She had made it.
Alistair hefted Nuala and removed her a safe distance from the rest, giving her space and time to come to on her own. When he returned, Duncan was ready to continue. "Daveth, step forward."
The rogue did as commanded, grasping the chalice and taking a sip. His reaction was different from Nuala's. He immediately shouted in pain, falling to his hands and knees, breaths coming in strangled, gurgling gasps before he collapsed and lay completely still. Alistair knelt beside the man, checking again for signs of life and sighing in regret when he found none. Braden felt his stomach tighten. One had made it, and another had not. What were his odds then?
Alistair removed Daveth's body to a separate part of the ruin, away from Nuala's sleeping form. When he returned once again, Duncan approached Jory, but the knight was shaking his head, eyes wide in terror, and backing away.
"Step forward, Jory…"
"I—I have a wife! A child! Had I known –" Jory argued, pulling his sword from his scabbard.
"There is no turning back," Duncan replied, his voice low as he unsheathed his daggers. Braden's eyes widened at the scene before him, feet moving back on their own.
"No! You ask too much! There is no glory in this!" Jory gasped, back hitting the crumbling stone wall. He lifted his blade in a defensive manner but Duncan charged, ducking beneath the knight's guard and stabbing his daggers into the man's belly.
"I'm sorry, Jory…" Duncan said as the man died, falling off the warden's daggers and collapsing on the ground. That's when he turned his eyes to Braden, and the mage felt his stomach drop. There is no turning back. "Braden, step forward."
He had no choice, no way out. But what else was there? His life at the circle was over, and his life before that he'd been forcibly removed from well over a decade ago… there was only this. So, on leaden feet, he took a few steps towards the warden, taking the chalice from him. The red liquid inside churned and swirled, reeking of darkspawn and magic. Holding his breath, he lifted the cup to his lips and took a swallow of the vile poison.
Pain bloomed at his temples and he grunted. Blackness exploded from the edges of his vision and he collapsed to the ground on hands and knees, hearing the roar of a dragon in his ears. Another few seconds and the pain in his head and the screaming dragon in his ears became too much and he succumbed to the darkness.
Guin stood at the Warden's camp by the roaring fire alone, eyes watching the gates to the wilds. It had been hours and still no sign of her brother. Others came and went through those wooden gates, but none bearing the Highever sigil.
It had been nice to wait with Duncan. His recruits had seemed very capable, and she knew Nuala was an excellent warrior. She'd make a fine Warden, once the Joining was complete, whatever that was. She'd figured the secrecy was important, but it still irked her that they wouldn't utter a syllable on the subject in her presence. Well, it didn't matter, anyway. She wasn't going to be a Warden; her father had not wanted that for her, and she would respect that wish.
Thinking of the recruits brought her thoughts back to the junior Warden who had accompanied them from the wilds; Alistair. She swore she had seen him somewhere before. He was so familiar! It was driving her mad trying to place him, and she usually never forgot a face. After all, she had plenty of practice, while growing up, learning who all the nobles were. It would have been terribly rude to forget who someone was.
So, since he looked so familiar, she had to know him, right? So then, where?! A frustrated huff escaped her lips, and Ares bumped his shoulder against her thigh, whining up at her. She looked down at her mabari, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "I'm alright, boy." He whuffed at her in response, plopping down in the dirt at her feet, head up and watching the people pass by.
Several minutes later, Duncan returned, carrying Nuala in his arms, Alistair right behind him with Braden slung over his shoulder. Alarmed, Guin rushed to help them settle the two unconscious wardens – she assumed they passed the Joining at this point anyway – onto a couple empty bed rolls. Once that was done, Duncan left again, finding a couple other wardens and giving them orders that she couldn't hear.
"What happened? Why are they unconscious? Where are Jory and Daveth?" Guin asked, looking up at Alistair.
He frowned at her, eyebrows furrowed while he thought of a response. "It's the Joining. Jory and Daveth did not join."
"Alistair," Duncan said as he walked back towards them, "take care of them. I will help the others with the cleanup."
Alistair barely had time to nod before Duncan was off again, following a couple wardens back into the ruined temple. Guin sat on the ground next to Nuala, Ares padding up to her side and laying down again. Alistair followed her lead, sitting down between Nuala and Braden.
"They'll be alright, right?" Guin asked after a moment of quiet.
"Oh, yes. They're just sleeping. The Joining is… taxing," Alistair answered, and they once again fell into quiet.
He really is familiar, she thought as she studied his face. She recognized the straight nose, strong jaw, and boyish cheeks, but his hair was too dark, his eyes – though a pleasant honey color – were wrong, and his ears were just a touch pointed. Maker, why was he so familiar? Maybe he just looked like someone she knew?
Alistair cleared his throat awkwardly, pink coloring his cheeks. The sudden sound startled Guin out of her reverie, red coloring her own cheeks in embarrassment when she realized she had been staring. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to stare."
"It's alright," he murmured, pink spreading from his cheeks to his ears and down his neck.
Oh no, she probably freaked him out. Hoping to save herself from her embarrassment, she asked, "so, uh… where are you from?"
He looked up at her, surprised by the question. "I was… born in Redcliffe, lived there until I turned ten and was sent to the Chantry, in Denerim," he answered.
Huh… well it sort of narrowed down the possibilities of where she could have seen him. She had been to Redcliffe before, for Arl Eamon's and Lady Isolde's wedding, but she had been just a girl then, maybe five or six and had spent more time playing with other children – both noble and villager – than doing anything else. And of course, she'd been to Denerim, many times in fact, but she'd never spent much time with any of the Templars. He must have been a Templar too, or at least training to be one. That was really the only reason to be sent to the chantry at such a young age.
"You were so young, to be sent away," Guin said quietly, frowning.
Alistair shrugged in response, "I wasn't happy about it, no, but it worked out. Duncan wouldn't have found me or recruited me otherwise."
Guin nodded, still frowning, and she laid a hand on Ares' head to scratch his ears. She knew if she had been sent away so young, she would have been much angrier. Admittedly, she didn't know the circumstances of why he was sent, but still…
"So, what about you? I know you're here waiting for your brother, but why come all this way? Highever is sure to be nicer this time of year… or well all year than it is here," Alistair inquired.
Guin's frown deepened to a scowl. "I would prefer not to talk about it," she replied. In reality, she would prefer not to think of it, the wounds still very fresh in her heart. It had only been four days… maybe five now, since the events at Highever Castle.
"Alright, we can talk about me more if you like," Alistair suggested, reading the grief on her features and offering her a kind smile. Guin felt herself smiling back at him.
"Were you in Redcliffe for Arl Eamon's and Lady Isolde's wedding?" she asked, taking him up on the offer to change the subject.
"Ah, yes, I was. I spent most of my time running around with the other kids though. I couldn't sit still during the ceremony," he replied, smile widening. "I remember playing tag and I was supposed to be the chaser. I tripped chasing this one girl and sent us both across the bank and into the lake," he laughed.
Guin's eyes lit up, "that was you?! Oh, my mother was so cross with me for ruining my clothes. She didn't understand that I didn't care one lick about being proper." That had been a fun game of tag, even the tumble into the lake. She'd come up out of the water sopping wet and covered in mud and laughing merrily. When she'd returned to the castle later, her mother had given her a very stern talking-to, explaining that a lady never ran around, got mud on her clothes, or jumped in any lakes.
They sat for a little while, talking about the mischief they had gotten up to while they had been at Redcliffe as kids. Guin thoroughly enjoyed the distraction, her heart lightening a little bit from her grief as she laughed with Alistair.
Shouting at the gates to the wilds drew both of their attention, their happy bubble of nostalgia shattered. They both stood, watching the commotion until they understood what the scout that had come into Ostagar had been shouting.
"The darkspawn are coming! The horde is on the move!"
Dread settled in the pit of Guin's stomach. Her brother was still out there, had he gotten caught up by the horde of darkspawn? If not, then where was he?! Why had he not come back?!
Ares whined next to her with worry, nudging his head into her hand to get her attention. She looked down at him, feeling tears gather in her eyes. After a moment, she cleared her throat and said, "uh, I'm going for a bit of a walk. Ares needs a bit of exercise."
"Uh, alright," Alistair replied, eyebrows raised as he stood with her. She gave him a small reassuring smile that didn't reach her eyes before she turned and left the camp. She needed to be alone for a while.
The great black dragon roared, wings flapping and head thrashing in a display of power. Flames streamed from the beast's maw, swirling and angry and hot. But amid the roar of the dragon were whispers of death. They grew in number and volume, drowning out all else, until the dragon turned and looked her in the eyes.
Nuala sat up with a gasp, eyes wide and darting about her surroundings. Sweat dampened her hair and her heart pounded in her chest. A nightmare… just a nightmare, she repeated to herself, trying to shut the images out of her head.
"Ah, you're awake!" came Alistair's voice from by the large campfire. How did I get here? Nuala wondered, looking around at the warden camp. She had been in the old temple before… for the Joining. Confused and disoriented, she looked up at the junior warden and a felt a strange pull toward him. What, by the ancestors, was that about? And it wasn't just him; she felt pulled in many directions. The ex-templar knelt in front of her, honey eyes sympathetic to her confusion, holding a bowl of beef stew in his hands. "Are you hungry?"
At that moment, her stomach gave a rather large growl, which she frowned at. "It appears that I am," she answered. Wordlessly, he gave her the bowl before standing and walking back toward the campfire. She took several ravenous bites before the gnawing hunger subsided slightly and she felt she could slow down. "What happened?"
Alistair sighed, "You and Braden survived the Joining, but Daveth and Jory…." He trailed off frowning. So, the knight and the rogue hadn't made it through the Joining. The dwarf wasn't completely surprised that Ser Jory had perished, to be honest. He hadn't seemed to possess that innate bravery and desire to do whatever was necessary that was common among the Grey Warden order. Daveth, though, she had thought would make it through.
"Where's Braden?" she asked, glancing around before spying him on a bedroll a short ways away.
"He hasn't woken up yet," Alistair replied.
"How long have I been out?" the dwarf asked, frowning. It was dark, the sky black as pitch with a few stars twinkling here and there that she could see through the light pollution and smoke of the camp fire. But it had been dark – or just getting dark – when they held the Joining. It was impossible for Nuala to tell what time it was.
"A few hours, it's after midnight," he replied, looking up to the sky with a frown. "A scout returned a few hours ago from the wilds, shouted something about the horde and then the king called a war council. They've been sequestered for hours."
Nuala's eyebrows furrowed and she glanced over at the gates leading to the wilds. The horde of darkspawn must have been getting close. She remembered Lady Guinevere had been waiting for her brother and his group to return from the wilds… if he wasn't back by now… She looked around once more, noticing the noblewoman was missing. "Where's Lady Guinevere? Hadn't she been here before?"
"Ah, yes. She said she wanted to go on a walk. Naturally her mabari went with her," he answered, scratching his head lightly. "She said she wouldn't be long." When he said that, he looked up glancing around, frowning.
Suddenly, there was a groan from the bedroll where Braden lay. "Well, that sucked," he grunted, sitting up and holding his head. Alistair immediately grabbed a waiting bowl of stew by the fire and brought it over.
"How are you feeling?" the junior warden asked, handing the mage the bowl of soup.
"Like I just got squished by a pride demon, then burned alive from the inside by a rage demon," was Braden's reply, taking the proffered bowl and digging in with gusto.
Alistair snorted and nodded, saying, "that sounds about right."
"It's always like this after a Joining? When does the… tugging go away?" asked Nuala. The pull toward Alistair and Braden hadn't lessened, but she was surprised it wasn't giving her a headache. It was just extremely annoying.
"'Tugging?' Oh! You're just sensing other Grey Wardens, and of course the horde. No, that won't go away, sorry. You'll get used to it," Alistair replied with a small, reassuring smile. Then he fished into the pack attached to his sword belt, pulling out two glass charmed necklaces. Inside each glass charm swirled a deep red liquid. "I was supposed to give you both these when you woke up," he said and handed one each to Braden and Nuala. The dwarf frowned when she took hers, studying the liquid inside. "These are a token to remind you of your Joining, of the promise you made. Darkspawn blood is incased within the glass."
"I'm sorry, but this is a bit too gaudy to go with my robes," Braden remarked, holding his nose up at the charm and frowning comically.
Alistair chuckled, "I know, I said the same thing about my splintmail, but…" and he pulled a chain out from under his armor, "I found it really goes with anything." At the end of the chain dangled a similar charm, darkspawn blood churning inside.
"Or maybe you just have to find the right shoes," Nuala added, smiling slightly as she pulled the chain over her head.
"What's this? Did you just make a joke?" Braden gasped, hand flying to his chest over his heart and mouth agape. Nuala let a real genuine smile curve her lips, the first since before she'd ventured into the deep roads.
"She has been known to make jokes before," a voice added from beyond the fire. Lady Guinevere entered the light of the campfire a second later, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Her mabari trotted up beside her, tongue lolling out of his mouth.
"Well, not recently. Though, I can't really blame her for that. We've been through a lot in the last few days," the mage remarked. Quiet settled on the four of them after those words like a heavy cloud.
"Ah, good to see everyone here," Duncan stated as he entered the camp, firelight glinting off his silver armor. Nuala hadn't realized he hadn't been there until then. He studied Braden and Nuala, a look of relief in his eyes. "I'm glad you both pulled through. Unfortunately, you won't have much time to catch your breath. King Cailan just concluded the war council." He paused, eyeing Alistair and Guinevere as well. "He has an assignment for the four of you."
"An assignment?" Alistair asked, folding his armored arms across his chest.
"Yes, it's also vitally important to the upcoming battle," the senior grey warden replied.
"Wait, battle?" Braden asked, spine straightening.
"The darkspawn approach us from the south. They will be here within the hour. I will be with the Grey Wardens on the frontline with King Cailan and his forces of soldiers, archers, and mages. Teryn Loghain and his contingent will be waiting for a signal to enter the battle. That's where you all come in. The King has asked that you four, specifically, climb the Tower of Ishal and light the beacon at the top to let Loghain and his troops know when to charge," Duncan explained.
"We won't be in the battle?" Alistair interjected incredulously.
Duncan eyed him, one dark eyebrow raised. "This is the King's personal request, Alistair."
"So, he needs three Grey Wardens and an accessory standing there holding the torch, just in case, right?" Alistair grumbled.
"An accessory? I assume you're talking about me," Guinevere remarked, eyeing the ex-templar with a raised eyebrow. Alistair offered her a lopsided grin.
Nuala frowned, thinking about the mission itself. It was insanely easy, why would all four of them be required to go? "Actually, Duncan, Alistair made a good point. Why send all of us? Why not send one and let the others join the forces on the battlefield?"
Duncan sighed, then said, "No, all four of you will go, as commanded. The King wanted to be sure the best would be on this, and if he wants Grey Wardens to be there, then there will be Grey Wardens. We will do whatever it takes to defeat the darkspawn, no matter how unexciting the task may be."
"Did you all hear that? We're the best," Braden commented with a smirk.
Alistair snorted before he said, "I get it, I get it. Just so you know, if the King asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no."
"I may have to see that," Guinevere remarked, smile wide.
"For you, maybe, but it has to be a pretty dress," was Alistair's answer. Guinevere was reduced to giggles, green eyes tearing up.
Braden laughed before stating, "you know, that could be an excellent distraction."
Alistair smirked, replying with a laugh, "me shimmying down the darkspawn line in a pretty dress? Sure, we could kill them while they roll around laughing."
Guin guffawed at the banter, bending slightly at the waist to clutch her stomach as she laughed. Nuala even cracked a smile, feeling a giggle bubble up from her belly. Duncan was not nearly so amused. He let a groan escape his lips, closing his eyes to ward off the silliness.
"Sorry, Duncan," Nuala said, still smiling. She hadn't felt so light in a while, even with the threat of battle hanging in the air. Maybe she was just feeling giddy: adrenaline started to course through her and that was why she was so prone to bouts of giggles and smiles. Either way, she felt a little grateful for Braden's and Alistair's jokes. But, it was time to be serious again. They needed to know exactly what they were required to accomplish, and when.
Duncan cleared his throat, eyeing Braden and Alistair before he continued. "The tower is on the other side of the gorge from the King's camp, the way we came in when we arrived. You'll need to cross the gorge and head through the gate and up to the tower entrance. From the top, you'll overlook the entire valley."
"Alright, that sounds easy enough," Guinevere said, shrugging her shoulders in her silverite armor.
"We'll signal you when the time is right. Alistair will know what to look for," Duncan finished, nodding to the ex-Templar.
"Alright, we know what we have to do," Nuala replied, stooping to reattach her sword and shield to her back. They had been removed when she'd been brought back to camp. Braden did the same with his staff a few feet away from her, determination replacing the goofiness from a few minutes prior.
Duncan nodded, looking at each of them intently. "Then I must join the others. From here, you four are on your own." He paused, gaze shifting to Braden, Nuala, and Alistair. "Remember, you three are Grey Wardens, I expect you to be worthy of that title."
Gravely, Nuala nodded then turned to walk toward the bridge that would take them across the gorge. Before she could a take a step away, Alistair said, "Duncan, may the Maker watch over you."
"May He watch over us all," he replied. He nodded to each of them before turning and leaving camp, heading to join the rest of the Grey Wardens marching into battle. It didn't feel right, but Nuala turned away from the other Wardens, and towards the Tower of Ishal. They had a job to finish.