Hello everyone, it's your friendly neighborhood Glader back with another chapter of Dragon slayer. I meant to get this out yesterday but my roommate invited me to go out clubbing and I wanted to have a little fun before classes really picked up. Now I feel like crap but I would feel even worse if I didn't get this chapter out. Also, the chapters after the next one will most likely take more time to produce because I only have chapter 1- 3 written out by hand, and I prefer to write out a chapter on paper before copying it to the computer; just a heads up. Anyway I hope you enjoy the chapter, and look forward to chapter 3, where the real shit begins.
Bryce
"… I'm terribly sorry about the inconvenience my Lord."
And of course, on top of a possible Blight Rendon is having trouble with the infamous Banns of Amaranthine, why am I not surprised?
Driving my dark thoughts out with I sigh, I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Eleanor had made me aware that I always made this tell when I'm 'thinking too hard', and even after she pointed it out I still never managed to kick the habit. With another sigh I focused on my oldest friend's face.
Rendon always had deeply set eyes, but now his once determined eyes were nearly hidden by how inward they sunk and the bruises around his eyes from lack of sleep. Because of his deep-seated eyes, his nose looked even more crooked than when it was broken by an Orlesian Chevalier's iron clad fist, and the wrinkles on his face made him look much older then he truly was.
"It is fine, don't worry my friend." I placated, drawing a slight lopsided grin from my oldest friend. "The Darkspawn in the south caught us all by surprise. I'll just have Fergus march out with the Highever troops tonight, and I'll accompany you when your forces arrive. It'll be just like old times Rendon."
My reassuring words must have had the right effect, because my friend's lopsided grin morphed into a wide smile that was more at home in a battlefield, for it had more teeth then any smile used at social gathering. The last time I saw Rendon with such a grin was during the Defense of Denerim, the final major battle of the Rebellion, when he repeatedly sunk his axes into the Chevalier regiment that was responsible for death of Rendon's father.
"Only this time," Rendon grinned. "We'll be facing Darkspawn not Orlesian."
That pulled a chuckle out of both of us, and for a moment we were both lost in the memories of our escapades and adventures during Maric's Rebellion. As we laughed at the expense of our one-time enemies, out of the corner of my eye I noticed two figures enter the main hall.
With black hair, haggard face, light silverite chainmail, and a plane dragon bone sword; Commander Duncan looked every bit the dutiful Grey Warden Commander. By his side the red hair and youth-full face of my sworn knight, Sir Gilmore, stood out in contrast, and by the look his face the knight looked interested in joining the ranks of the legendary Grey Wardens.
I wonder if, in 20 years, Sir Gilmore will look more like Duncan. If the burden that their order carries will end up making even him look old and tired.
However, as Gilmore noticed me his spirited conversation with Warden Duncan abruptly ended, and he hurried his step in approach of me. When he was within arm's length he stiffened and pounded his chest in salute.
"One moment old friend." I interrupted Rendon as he recounted his actions during the Battle of the Bercilian Forest, where he ambushed the Orlesian army's field camp and reinforcements. "Sir Gilmore, do you have something to report?"
"Yes, my Lord." The knight transitioned into a less alert stance. "There is a visitor at the gate. By his look, he seems to be some sort of noble, but he has refused to identify himself before being greeted by either you or the Teyrna. Also, he is armed…heavily armed, my Lord."
"Hmm?" I pondered out loud. "Very well. Sir Gilmore please show our guest into the waiting area outside the main hall and offer him some refreshments. I will show the Arl to the dinning hall and have Fergus head out with the troops before meeting you by the gate."
"Very good, my Lord." Gilmore saluted again before striding off towards the front gate, leaving Duncan with Rendon and myself.
Turning towards the main hall's left side door, I motioned for both my guests to follow before leaving the main hall.
"Duncan, this is Arl Rendon Howe. Rendon, this is Duncan; Ferelden's Commander of the Grey." I introduced as we made our way further into Castle Cousland.
"My Lord!" Rendon scrambled. "Why was I not informed that Commander Duncan would be here?"
I felt an involuntary scowl form on my lips at my friend's rude behavior, and when I turned my head to glare at him he noticed my displeasure.
"Rendon, Duncan arrived earlier with a recruit unannounced but not unwelcome. He came to Highever in search of more Grey Warden candidates, and he currently has his eyes on Sir Gilmore."
"I apologize my Lord; Sir Duncan." Rendon backpedaled. "It is just that Grey Wardens require a certain level of protocol. I…am at a disadvantage."
"Please, Teyrn Cousland." A new, younger, feminine voice placated. "Arl Howe's words were not so bitter as to cause harm."
The owner of the voice stepped out of the castle library and gave a respectful curtsy after she approached us, and in doing so gave me a good look at Duncan's recruit from Kinloch Hold. Beautiful bright eyes; one brilliant emerald and the other a clear-sky blue, shone out from underneath a head of hair that looked like it was made of spun gold and silver thread. A wide smile stretched across her young, unmarked face, and beneath her glossy lips were the barest hints of sparkling white teeth. Her circle-mage robes did very little to hide her rather…shapely form, or keep attention from her robust chest. Even the threat of magic, in the form of the staff in her hands, didn't keep the eyes of a patrolling pair of guardsmen off her rear end.
"My lord Arl." The woman addressed Rendon. "Us Grey Wardens can objectively be thought of the same as a Knightly Order that has been given to operate on an international level."
"My lord Teyrn; my lord Arl." Duncan's deep baritone interjected. "Allow me to introduce Shiara Amell; the Grey Warden recruit I picked up from Ferelden's Circle of Magi."
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances, my Lords." Shiara curtsied again, this time with an impish grin.
"A pleasure indeed, Miss Shiara." I returned with a smile.
"Yes, a pleasure." Rendon blushed as he valiantly tried to keep his eyes above her neck line.
With introductions completed I continued leading my guests to the dinning hall, only for yet another voice to interrupt my current groups polite chatter.
"Father!" The unmistakable rough voice of my eldest son rang out. Out of my family's personal wing of the castle marched my first born, with a long-sword of castle-forged steel and a buckler strapped to the back of his red steel heavy chainmail. I felt a strange mix of parental pride and sadness at seeing my eldest looking every bit the Ferelden warrior.
Despite how much blood the elder generation spills, it will never be enough to protect the next one from having to fight as well.
"Fergus." I smiled before introducing my son to Duncan and Shiara. "I want you to lead our troops to Ostagar for me. I'll march with the Arl's forces when they arrive. And please my son; be careful."
With a confident smile Fergus stepped in close and gave me a careful hug before giving our guests a few parting remarks and marching off.
Maker watch over you, my son.
With no more interruption I lead Rendon and the Grey Wardens to the dinning hall and left them for the front gate, curious to see who dropped by unannounced.
When I reached the right side passage that lead to the main gate Sir Gilmore noticed my approach. After motioning for the knight to stay silent, I turned my attention to analyze this new arrival who was reading a small, worn leather bound book in his armored hands. Long and messy stark white hair contrasted the man's tanned skin, which in turn stood out under his bright silver and gold armor. Strapped to his back was a sheathed great-sword with a cross shaped hilt, and a vivid blue gem inlayed in the middle of the grip.
I absent mindedly ordered Gilmore to set up the night's patrol schedule and waved him off, before coughing to get the stranger's attention. The man's shoulder's tensed immediately and his head whipped up to look at me, and his eyes bore into mine. Seafoam green eyes; so much like my love Leandra's, bore into my own brown orbs. The eyes looked so familiar but before I could comment on them movement out of my vision drew my attention away.
Next to the stranger a brown and red stripped shape, that I had originally wrote off as some sort of travel bag, began to move and untangle its self. Within seconds a large, tongue lapping Mabari was up on its feet starring at me, then suddenly it was right in front of me. The Ferelden hound easily stood up on its hind legs, put its front on my chest, and gave me a big slobbering kiss, the beasts stubby tail wagging excitedly. Looking into the canine's yellow eyes I suddenly recognized the beast.
"Chulainn?" I gasped, only to be answered with an excited bark. "If you are here then…"
I slowly turned to look at the white haired young man and noticed something I had not before. His high cheek bones, nose, and chin all have a striking resemblance to my own features, and when he gave me a small smile I finally saw it. His smile was the exact same as my father's smile, one that skipped me but showed up in one other person.
"Artorias?! My son, is that you?"
My son's eyes brightened with mirth at my words, and my eyes watered slightly as joy surged through my soul.
"How are you, Father? Did you miss me?"
Lunging forward, I pulled my youngest child into a crushing embrace, not even caring about the small tear that dripped from my right eye.