Chapter 19) The Joining

Nuada POV


"Nuada?" Elspeth called. Since she sounded worried, I swung down from the mess hall's rafters to land on the table next to her. She didn't even twitch, of course. She was used to my antics. "There you are."

"Yeah, I'm here!" I teased, grinning. "What do you need?"

"I asked Uncle Duncan about the Wardens." The stony look in her eyes told me that it hadn't been simple asking. She'd done her trick again. "So, listen to me."

"We'd better head to our rooms or something to not be overheard. Father will pitch a fit if he knew Uncle Duncan tried to recruit me."

"I know." And it went unsaid that was the reason why she'd interrogated our beloved, and adoptive, uncle. She wasn't too happy about it either. "Let's go."


"Ugh… Dread Wolf take you, noble."

"Yeah, yeah. You can say that again when you don't look like a walking corpse."

"Hnn…" It was a testament to just how tired, and close to death, Cleon was that he didn't retort to my reply. I shifted his weight on my back, making sure he was balanced. Aiden, walking beside me, helped keep him steady as we walked from the tent to some out of the way corner of the ruin.

"It's nice to see he's still breathing," Alistair noted grimly. He'd come to fetch us mere minutes ago, and kept glancing at Cleon like he expected him to die at any moment. Actually, he probably did. "We don't have much time."

"Is that why you came to get us instead of blushing at my twin sister?" I teased to lighten the mood. He immediately yelped in protest. "Come on! You were so blushing and awkward!"

"I thought I offended her, so I tried to apologize!" Elspeth had actually been so startled that she couldn't remember her manners for a minute. So, technically speaking, it was all her fault, but I'd tease her later.

For now, Alistair was my target. "Well, relax, you didn't offend her. If anything, I'm sure she found it adorable."

"Sure, adorable. Just the thing for someone to think of me."

"Is there something wrong with that, ser?" Aiden asked politely. He shifted Cleon up higher up my back and I adjusted my grip to account for the movement. Cleon just grumbled something I couldn't make out. He was getting really bad, really fast. The face he pressed into my neck was clammy and cold one second, and then burned like a flame the next.

"I… well…" Alistair flailed for a word before sighing. "Never mind. Oh, look, we're here." We were indeed. Ser Jory, Layla, and Daveth had beaten us here, having obviously been waiting a while. Ser Jory paced, muttering under his breath. Layla casually swung her legs as she sat down on the side of the platform. Daveth was carving something from a piece of wood. I felt a pang of guilt. Yes, I had informed Aiden and Cleon about the Joining, but not these three. With Alistair nearby, I doubted I'd have the chance. How much terror would they go through, because I hesitated too long? Damn me for the idiocy.

"Ah, greetings!" Layla called, hopping to her feet and waving at us as we walked up. "I am glad to see you." She certainly looked it, with the bright smile lighting up her face. "Do be careful, though, for Ser Jory-"

"The more I hear about this Joining, the less I like it," Ser Jory grumbled as soon as he saw us, seizing an opportunity to complain. Not knowing what to say, I set Cleon down behind one of the pillars on the side. He immediately leaned into it, having no strength to sit up on his own. Damn, this needed to move quickly.

"Are you blubbering again?" Daveth grumbled, looking more than a little annoyed. He waved to us before focusing a glower Ser Jory's way. "Seriously?"

"Why are these damned tests? Have I… we… not earned our places yet?"

"Maybe it's tradition. Or maybe they're just trying to annoy you. Who's to say?"

"Please, no fighting," Layla requested hesitantly. She stepped closer to Aiden, glancing worriedly at Cleon. "We are going to be working together, yes?" If we all survived, we would.

Ser Jory sighed heavily. "I am… not trying to fight," he mumbled. "I am… aggravated. If I had been told of the tests, I wouldn't have left my Helena." This was, of course, the reason why the Wardens kept their secrets.

"Well, I've always heard the Wardens do what they must," Daveth noted absently. He had good instincts.

"Including sacrifices?" That was all being a Warden was about. Sacrificing yourself to protect everyone from a threat they ignored.

"I'd sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end the Blight." Daveth would make a good Warden. "You saw those darkspawn, ser knight. Wouldn't you die to protect your pretty wife from them?"

"I…" He looked thoughtful. "I would do anything to protect her. But I'm not sure of leaving her behind to mourn my passing. I'd rather live and continue protecting her." Well, I knew someone who was in the worst place possible.

"Brave words, but if nobody stops the darkspawn, we're all dead for sure, right?"

"I… suppose." He sighed again. "I've never faced a foe I could not engage with my blade. This? This seems… strangely elusive and foreboding."

"Well…" I began lightly. How much could I tell? Honestly, I doubted it would be much. But I could tell them this one sentence. "That's because it is."

"H-huh?"

"At last, we come to the Joining." We all looked up as Uncle Duncan approached, carrying a large silver goblet. The dark crimson liquid inside sloshed with each careful step. "The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation," he began, setting the goblet down on the table nearby. It had likely been set up just for this purpose. "So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank the blood of their enemies and mastered the Taint."

Next to me, Layla tried to muffle her gasp and, absently, I took her hand and squeezed reassuringly. The fact that she leaned into me told me she was grateful for it. "Is this not blood magic?" she wondered aloud anyway, clearly unnerved.

"I will not lie and state it is not similar. However, Wardens will actually allow the use of blood magic in our efforts to combat the darkspawn." I heard a few gasps, but I shrugged it off. There were poisons and draughts that could do similar things to blood magic. The scariest thing about it is the mind control, but a skilled manipulator can do just the same with simple words. "However, this is, ultimately, not the same, Layla. You need not worry."

"Still, we are… going to drink the blood of those… those creatures?" Ser Jory shakily asked, staring at the goblet. I bet they were all putting the pieces together about the vials collected earlier.

"Yes, as the first Wardens did," Uncle Duncan repeated, nodding at Alistair. "Just as we did before you, and all other Wardens. This is the source of our power, and victory." 'In peace, vigilance. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice.' So went the ancient Warden motto, and it was one they adhered to most faithfully.

"Those who survive the Joining become immune to the Taint," Alistair explained for Uncle Duncan, speaking up for the first time. I noticed the white lie, but ignored it. "We can sense it in the darkspawn, and it is vital to combating the Archdemon." Sadly, I did not know just why that was. Simple skill never seemed like enough of an explanation, but no books detailed it, and Elspeth hadn't asked. Perhaps after the battle, she'd find out for us? That is, if Uncle Duncan didn't explain.

"Those… those who survive will?" Layla repeated shakily. I closed my eyes and deeply regretted not making more of an effort to warn her ahead of time. She looked so scared. "What do you mean?"

"Not all those who drink the blood will make it," Uncle Duncan answered slowly. He sent me a curious look, but I shrugged. He nodded, and smiled slightly. Well, I was glad to know that he, at least, was happy at some secrets being kept. "Those who do are forever changed. It is a price we must pay and, thus, kept secret."

"Looks like I was right," Daveth muttered, glancing at the paling Ser Jory. "Not sure how happy I am about that."

"We speak only a few words prior to the Joining." Uncle Duncan kept on going, ignoring the signs of panic. "But they have been spoken since the first. Alistair?"

Alistair nodded, and brought his head down, as if in prayer. "Join us, brothers and sisters," he began softly. I ducked my head down too, mostly to avoid looking at the others. "Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant." Layla, still holding my hand, mouthed a silent prayer. "Join us, as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn." Aiden, on my other side, clenched his fist. Was he angry? "Should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten." I thought I heard Ser Jory muffle a yelp. "And know that, one day, we shall join you."

When I looked up, Uncle Duncan had the goblet in hand again. It was time. "Cleon, you shall be the first," he murmured, turning to the Dalish elf. The only sign he had heard was the half shrug. "Alistair, assist him, please."

"Of course." Alistair took the goblet from Uncle Duncan and brought it to Cleon. "Here, you need to open your mouth," he whispered. Cleon opened bleary eyes and tried to reach for the cup. "No, I'm not letting you have it. Just open your mouth." Somehow, Cleon managed some sort of glare before doing so. "And this is going to be vile. Make sure you don't spit it out." Alistair carefully tipped the goblet, allowing some of the liquid to trickle into Cleon's mouth. A bit ran down his chin, but he apparently got enough to swallow as Alistair sat back. Cleon groaned, and shook, slumping over before just… suddenly flopping down, like a puppet whose strings were snapped.

"Is he all right?" Aiden whispered into my ear as Alistair checked. "He just… I don't know…"

"Well, he was already Tainted," I reminded. Still, I saw the smile Alistair had. "I think he's fine though."

"Oh?"

"He's alive, Duncan," Alistair called, confirming my suspicion. Aiden and Layla both breathed a sigh of relief. "Here." He handed the goblet back to Uncle Duncan. "Should I move him?" Uncle Duncan shook his head, only letting a small smile betray his relief. "All right."

"Daveth," Uncle Duncan called, moving the ceremony along. Daveth stood ramrod straight at his name. "Step forward."

"Sir," Daveth mumbled. He carefully took the goblet from Uncle Duncan and took a single sip. Uncle Duncan managed to take the goblet and step back before Daveth started twisting and writhing, shaking his head as if something had crawled into it. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he groaned and screamed in pain.

But then blood seeped from his eyes and Daveth clawed at his throat as he began coughing up blood. I held Layla back as she tried to rush to his side. She looked at me with wide eyes, but I only shook my head. No magic could save him now, and it was pointless to try. "But…!" she tried to protest. I held her firm. "No…"

"I am sorry, Daveth," Uncle Duncan murmured, as the thief from Denerim flopped to the ground, convulsing and spewing out blood. I had honestly thought he'd survive. But he soon collapsed into the puddle and stilled, unmoving.

"Maker…" Aiden breathed, calm façade cracking. I glanced up as he shook his head, stepping back. "That's…"

"Harsh, but at least it's quick," Alistair murmured from his seat in the corner. He looked pained. "Better than others."

"With all due respect, ser, I'm not certain how reassuring that is."

Ser Jory certainly didn't think it was, if he had heard the words at all as he stumbled back from the corpse. "No…" he breathed, shaking his head. "No…!"

"Step forward, Jory," Uncle Duncan ordered, turning to the knight. "It is your turn."

"But… but I have a wife. A child! If… had I known…"

Uncle Duncan moved towards him. "There is no turning back."

"No! You… you ask too much!" I noticed Ser Jory reach for his sword, and tried to shout a warning. But it was too late. The sword came out and I winced away as Uncle Duncan killed him easily. What a…it was a wasteful death, truly. If he hadn't drawn weapon, it would've been fine. He could've become a Warden ally, and not have to leave his beloved, and pregnant, wife a widow. Assuming, of course, that his wife had not already died because of… of something I was going to ignore until there was actually a time to remember.

"The Wardens do what they must, milord?" Aiden asked me softly as Uncle Duncan casually removed his knife and let Ser Jory fall with a muffled splat. Blood pooled under the corpse.

"If they're attacked, then yes, they do," I whispered back. "He should've just said he was scared."

"Would Master Duncan let him?"

"He would've had more of a chance."

"I see. A terrible secret."

"Well, besides me, who would join knowing the cost?"

"The incredibly insane, milord."

"I said besides me."

"The Joining is not yet complete," Uncle Duncan helpfully reminded us as he picked up the goblet again. He was splattered with blood, but ignored it. He'd been covered too many times to notice anymore. "As you have been called upon to serve the greater good."

"Oh, please no…" Layla whimpered. I glanced down to see her shaking. "Please, Maker…"

"You'll be fine," I reassured, squeezing her hand again. She looked up at me, and I tried to smile confidently to ease the fear flooding her face. "You'll be just fine, Layla."

"H-how do you kn-know?" Her other, far too small, hand gripped my sleeve. "I… I am not…"

"You're stubborn and beautiful." A flush replaced the terror. "Also, I just know."

"That… that is not very reassuring." Still, she smiled a bit. "Thank you, though."

"You're welcome." I looked up and saw Uncle Duncan approach. "Ladies first, my lady."

"How thoughtful you are." Hey, she was capable of sarcasm! "Oh, here goes…"

"You'll be fine. Focus on that."

"Very well." She glanced at Aiden and me before taking the sip. She handed it back quickly, covering her mouth to make sure she didn't spit out the liquid. It wasn't long, though, before she was whimpering, tears slipping down her face as she shook, crouching down in pain. She kept her hands over her mouth, though, to silence any potential screams or sobs as she endured. Then, just as suddenly as Cleon, she fell to her side, no blood in sight.

Alistair appeared at her side, and did a quick check. "She lives, Duncan," he informed us, smiling. "I'll set her up next to Cleon."

"Thank you, Alistair," Uncle Duncan murmured. As Alistair gathered Layla up in his arms and carried her off, he turned his attention to Aiden. "Step forward."

"I… very well, Master Duncan," Aiden sighed. He took the sip just as the others did, but stepped back before Uncle Duncan could to put space between them. He immediately, however, went down on his knees, gripping his shoulders tightly as he gritted his teeth against the pain. The sight of blood on his face startled me, but when I knelt to look, I saw it was only from his mouth. He'd bitten the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming.

Finally, though, he fell forward. I caught him before he could hit the pavement. Before I could say anything, Alistair appeared on his other side, formally confirming what I, at least, already knew. "Alive and well," Alistair stated, grinning now. "I'll… figure out some way to get him out of the way."

I chuckled as I stood, letting Alistiar struggle under Aiden's weight. Uncle Duncan was already near, goblet in hand. "Aw, saving the best for last?" I cracked, getting a slight smile from Uncle Duncan. It faded, though, as he handed me the cup. "Well, let's see if this tastes better than Orzammar's ale! That stuff tasted like dirt!" Though, considering it was actually made from dirt or lichen or something, that wasn't very surprising. "Bottom's up." I downed the last little bit of the bloody mixture, as if it were a pint at the Gnawed Noble Tavern.

Well, this was it. I knew it as the fire burned through my veins, the ice settled in my throat and gut, and painful screams and songs echoed through my head. Would I live or would I die? Either way, my old life was gone forever.

From this moment forth, I was finally on the path I'd chosen.


Author's Note: Here we are! The Joining! The turning point of no return! About, maybe, five minutes of gameplay. Oh well. Cleon didn't get a painful reaction because he was already Tainted. Varied the others just because. Individuality. The crack about Orzammar ale is something Oghren will complain about in game. Gnawed Noble Tavern is a Tavern in Denerim that plays a semi-important part later in the game.

Next Chapter – Strategizing with Cleon.