Finally! I'm sorry about the wait. I ran into a little writer's block as well as some other things going on in my life. I'm trying to make the chapters in the focus of one of the characters now instead of splitting it.

Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Quinn rubs his slightly swollen jaw and sends a slightly hurt look towards the dalish elf, which she ignores. All he did was make sure she wasn't hurt. She didn't have to punch him. What else was he supposed to do? She just suddenly collapsed. And it didn't help that her complexion had become extremely pale and sickly.

He lets out a quiet sigh. The mage is worried that his elven companion might not make it to the Joining. It doesn't seem fair that after all she went through, she may not make it. Maybe she was better off staying with her clan. Then, she would have passed in the company of people she cared about rather than with strangers.

"Hmmm… Looks like Cedric is already here. That's no surprise," Alistair notes out loud as they near the Grey Warden camp. Quinn's gaze falls to the area around the large fire and spots a familiar person. The tall man he had met by the kennels. The man seems to be deep in thought, his green eyes staring intensely into the flames. The way the flames dance angrily in his eyes and the fire's red glow on the long, fresh scar across the bridge of his nose makes him appear even more unnerving than before. The man hadn't been as intimidating when they met at the kennels, but Quinn had sensed something dark in him. Similar to when he encountered the rage demon during his Harrowing, just not as strong. At least, he doesn't seem possessed by a demon. That'd be bad.

So, Cedric's his name. Sounds Ferelden enough, right? Though his build seems relatively lean, his stature leads the mage to assume the man is a warrior. Well, that and the sword and shield resting next to him.

"There you are, Alistair. I've been waiting." The trio turns around to find a female elf in warden regalia standing behind them with a mabari standing at her side. Her teal eyes quickly look over the mage and the dalish elf. "I take it you two are our newest recruits. I'm Serah, the Warden-Constable of Ferelden. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Warden-Constable?" Quinn says, uncertain of the term.

"The Warden-Commander's second-in-command. I oversee the field work while Duncan is busy with other matters, such as recruiting," she clarifies before turning to Alistair. "Where are the other three recruits?"

Quinn quickly picks up on the Warden-Constable's slight accent, though stronger than his own, and instantly recognizes it.

"You're from the Free Marches!" he exclaims without thinking, interrupting Alistair before he can answer. Serah's teal eyes return to looking at the mage and she smirks.

"As are you, Messere Amell," she returns. The mage feels the blood start to drain from his face. Of course she would recognize his surname. What person of the Free Marches wouldn't?

"Serah, huh? That must be confusing when being addressed. Serah Serah?" Quinn scrambles to change the subject. From the glint in her eyes, the mage assumes she is aware of his aversion to his former family legacy. Sylvia's gaze finally turns onto the mage, seemingly aware his uneasiness.

"Serah isn't my real name. I changed it when I was conscripted," the elven warden admits before turning back to the junior warden. "Back on topic, the other recruits?"

"Er, I was just about to—Oh, hey! Look, there's two right there!" Alistair points out. Quinn looks in the direction he's pointing and spots two figures walking towards them. One is an elf with short, messy dirty blond hair and the other is a somewhat sleazy looking human with slick, black hair. Both are wearing simple leather armor and daggers, but while the human wears his weapons on his back, the elf has his strapped to his belt.

The two recruits make their way over to the group and pause a short distance away. Serah gestures for them to come closer.

"Now, where is the knight?" she questions.

"He was receiving blessings earlier. Probably still praying."

Quinn jumps slightly. He hadn't noticed Cedric walking up. Serah seems unfazed despite the daunting man having walked up behind her. Instead, she glances back at him and frowns.

"I thought I told you to shave," she grumbles. The warrior rolls his eyes.

"You recommended I shave," he argues with a sigh. "There's a difference." Serah turns around and pinches Cedric's arm. He doesn't react. The mabari suddenly starts barking, causing the mage to jump again. "Hush, you."

"Alistair, go fetch Ser Jory. We need to get down to business so everyone can eat and prepare," the Warden-Constable orders.

"Yes, ma'am!" the junior warden salutes before running off.

"No room for argument, huh?" Quinn jests. Serah smiles.

"One of the first things you'll learn: my word is absolute. Disobey me, and the Joining will seem like a pleasant dream," she states rather happily, but with a threatening undertone. Cedric makes a face, expressing slight discomfort and regret. Did he cross her?

"Duly noted," Quinn replies with a nervous chuckle. If she has a man as imposing as Cedric perturbed, the mage can only imagine the severity of her wrath. He's starting to think the Warden-Constable might be scarier than his dalish companion. Serah gestures towards the fire. Cedric returns to the spot he was originally sitting and the other two sit away from him. Quinn glances at the dalish elf, finding her eerily motionless. "Sylvia?"

She doesn't respond. Dread creeps into the mage's chest. Her forest green eyes appear glazed over. Quinn grips her shoulder and shakes the elf. "Sylvia," he demands, shaking her again. Still, the elf doesn't respond. The mage can feel panic clawing at him. He presses the palm of his hand against her head and tries to cast a healing spell on her, hoping his meager creation skills can help her at least a little. Sylvia finally responds by jerking away from him. She glares at the mage.

"Let's get the bulk of the introductions out of the way," Serah says, grabbing the attention of the mage and dalish elf. Quinn looks over at the Warden and notices her gaze focused on Sylvia, concern in her eyes. Is she aware of how severe Sylvia's condition is becoming?

Before Quinn realizes it, the dalish elf strides over to the fire and plops down on a large log away from the others. The mage quickly follows and takes the spot next to her, though he makes sure to leaves good amount of space between them. Serah quickly gestures to the unknown elf and human. The elf straights up and lifts his hand.

"I'm Eodyn," he states, his charcoal eyes glancing at the mage and dalish elf with curiousity.

"Daveth," the black-haired human speaks with a lecherous grin. "It's good to finally see a lovely lady amongst us recruits." Quinn frowns and he doesn't even have to look at Sylvia to know that she is sending a death glare the man's way.

"Careful," Quinn warns with a smirk. "She may not be one for words, but she hits hard. And that's just when you make a bad joke. I'd hate to see what happens when she doesn't like your flirting or sexual innuendoes." The mage flinches when he feels a jab into his side. It seems she's not too fond of being defended. Or is it his sarcasm? Daveth glances back in forth between the two elven women present. He doesn't say anymore.

"Let's avoid threats and harassment, please," Serah intercedes, sending pointed looks toward Daveth, Quinn, and Sylvia. The mabari lets out a short bark. "Next."

"Cedric," the broody warrior grunts his name. The mabari starts barking, purposely making itself known. "His name is Sirius. He's my mabari." Why is he following the Warden-Constable around then?

"Serious. What kind of name is that? And it doesn't even suit him. I mean, the mabari has a better sense of humor than you or most of the people here," Eodyn judges. What is he talking about? Cedric glares at the elf.

"Not the word 'serious.' It's S-i-r-i-u-s, the name of a star in the Canus Major constellation," the warrior explains with a snarl.

"The what?" Eodyn questions. Serah places her hand over her eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh with a shake of her head.

"The Canus Major," Quinn intervenes, "is a constellation that looks like a mabari… or just a dog. Depends where you're from. Fereldens say it's a mabari. Anyways, it follows the constellation of the Great Hunter." The other recruits just stare at the mage and the mabari barks. "What? There's more to the Circle than just casting spells. Like studying, and potion-making, and pranking the Chantry priests and sisters. Oh, and let's not forget the escape attempts. That's an important part of the Circle too. The Templars need something to do afterall."

"Maker, every conversation I have with you lot, I find myself having to backtrack." Serah cuts in with a smirk, before pointing to the mage. "Shall we get back to the introductions?"

"Right. I'm Qu—," the mage starts, but he is cut off.

"And here we are! Hope you didn't miss me too much."

The group turns towards the voice, spotting Alistair waving with a balding man following behind him. The final recruit, Quinn assumes.

"Good to have you finally join us, Ser Jory. We were just getting acquainted, and then veering off topic," Serah informs. "Take a seat. The newest recruits were just about to introduce themselves." The Ser Jory fellow nods and heads toward Cedric.

"My lord," he says as he bows to the warrior before sitting. Lord? Cedric runs his hand over his face and lets out an angry sigh.

"Do not call me that," he growls, threateningly.

"Oh, not going to wield your prestige as a Cousland over the common folk anymore?" Eodyn antagonizes as he rolls his eyes. "You didn't shy away from making it known when you demanded to see your uncle."

Cedric glares at the elf. Quinn recognizes the name of one of Ferelden's most respected families, second only to the royal family and as old as Ferelden itself. Well, if Cedric wasn't imposing before, which he was, he definitely is now. The mage's gaze falls to the shield resting next to the warrior once more. The laurel crest stares back at him.

It makes sense. Cedric's posture. His speech. His presence. Every part of the way he carries himself. Quinn may have been young when the Templars took him, but he still remembers the emphasis placed on appearance, education, and leadership by nobility. He should have recognized it, but the darkness, the rage that surrounds Cedric… the angry scar the crosses his face… it's overpowering. It's hard to notice anything other than the fury.

The clearing of a throat tears Quinn from his thoughts and he looks up at the Warden-Constable. His eyes widen with realization.

"Oh, right! My turn. Sorry… I'm Quinn," the former apprentice states before adding, "And, yes, I'm a mage." Eodyn, Daveth and Ser Jory eye him with wariness and a hint of fear. Quinn doesn't take it to heart. It's to be expected.

"Mages are highly valued amongst the Grey Wardens. They can heal some of the worst wounds, saving what few Wardens we have, or can wipe out groups of darkspawn with a single spell. Grey Wardens care not for superstitions or religious dogma. In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice. This is our code. Our motto," Serah declares, her demeanor more serious than before. She gestures to Sylvia. "Would you like to introduce yourself?"

The dalish elf responds with only a glare.

"She's Sylvia, of the Dalish," Quinn says in her stead. He receives a glance from her. He'll take that as her approval.

"It seems we've quite a variety of recruits," a voice booms. Sylvia jumps. Her muscles tense, seemingly ready to take off in a moment. Quinn laughs, which causes her to return to glaring at him. He doesn't mind much. It's worth it. A burly man appears beside Serah. The mage recognizes the man as Gregor, the Grey Warden who helped them earlier. Help he wouldn't have needed if Alistair hadn't choose to run errands for the revered mother. It would have been cooler if the Wardens could just turn invisible.

"I'm not sure if that's going to be a good thing or a bad thing with this lot," Serah admits with a slight smirk. Gregor lets out a roaring laugh.

"Duncan thinks it's a good batch," the big man replies with a grin.

"Right here," Quinn points out, as he gestures to his fellow recruits. He purposely pokes Sylvia as he is pointing around, which she responds with an annoyed look and swats his hand away. The two Grey Wardens chuckle.

"You're all hard to miss," Gregor shoots back.

"So that means we expect great things from you," Serah adds.

"It will be expected from us all." A new voice joins the conversation.

"Warden-Commander Duncan," Serah greets, formally. Duncan responds with a nod and looks back to the recruits. Quinn can feel a sense of seriousness settle over him. It's time to discuss the Joining. He can see it on Duncan's face. "The introductions are out of the way. The recruits are ready to receive their objectives for tomorrow."

"Good. But first, Alistair, I assume you are done riling up the mages?" Duncan inquires with a scolding look.

"The revered mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt, they should stick her in the army," Alistair jests.

"I second that," Quinn approves. Duncan clears his throat and sends the mage a disapproving look. What? Chantry mothers and sisters had a way with guilt-trips. Besides, if guilt tripping didn't work against the darkspawn, at least there would be one less mother to scold or harass him. Damn those Chantry mothers!

"I doubt the revered mother forced you to sass the mage," the Warden-Commander says with a sigh. Does he not know the power of the revered mother? "The Grey Wardens are under enough scrutiny. We cannot afford to antagonize anyone, Alistair."

"You're right. I apologize, Duncan," Alistair replies, looking at the ground guiltily. Quinn notices Gregor leave, chuckling.

"Now then. With all of you gathered here, I will be straight to the point. The six of you will be heading into the Kocari Wilds, with Alistair. You will have two tasks. The first is to collect 6 vials of darkspawn blood, one for each recruit." That feels… forboding…

"You're Grey Wardens. Wouldn't you already have darkspawn blood?" Eodyn interrupts.

"It's probably more along the lines of a trial to see if you can make the cut. A test. The blood is proof of your worth," Ser Jory answers, confidently. It makes sense, but Quinn can't help but feel that's not right. His instincts say it's more than a test. If it was just about kills and ability, Alistair could easily vouch for them. The mage notices that Duncan says nothing, but simply nods his head. Odd. Cedric seems to notice this as well, since he eyes the Warden-Commander with suspicion.

"Your second task is to retrieve old scrolls from an old Warden archive that was abandoned when the outpost could no longer be afforded to maintain," the dark-skinned warden continues.

"So, you're not only having us prove ourselves again, you also want us to run your errands for you?" Cedric growls, rage burning in his green eyes. Duncan looks at the warrior with sympathy and remorse. This seems to only make Cedric angrier. "Why do we need to go out of our way for some useless scrolls? Let's just get this shit over with!"

"Cedric! That's enough," Serah scolds. The two glare at one another for a while, until Cedric relents with a huff. His fists remain tightly clenched. "These are more than just scrolls. They are promises of support to the Grey Wardens by different races and organizations. The treaties may prove invaluable against the Blight."

"If it is a Blight," Cedric grumbles. Serah points at him, scowling, silently warning him not to continue. The warrior doesn't seem particularly fazed, but remains quiet.

"But how do you know if the treaties are there, or haven't been destroyed?" Quinn asks.

"It is possible that they could've been destroyed, but they were placed in a magically sealed chest. One that can only be opened by a Grey Warden. It may not be a part of your Joining, but the effort needs to be made," Duncan finishes.

"Why were the scrolls left then, if they are so important?" Quinn continues to inquire.

"It was assumed that the Grey Wardens would someday return. A great many things were assumed that have not held true," Duncan pauses. "The ruins of the tower are overgrown, but Serah or Alistair should be able to spot it."

"Serah?" Alistair probes.

"She will follow at a distance. With the horde growing as quickly as it is and the number of recruits you have to keep track of, she will be there as back-up should things go awry. But only if absolutely necessary," the Warden-Commander explains. "If that is all, then eat and prepare. You will have a long day tomorrow so rest up."

Duncan leaves the recruits with Serah again just as Gregor and some servants arrive, carrying food.

"I made sure to get some extra servings for you and Alistair," Gregor informs the elven warden. She smirks, warily.

"Thanks. I'm sure we'll need to be at our best to deal with this lot tomorrow," she responds.

"Again… Right here," Quinn mentions, pretending to sound offended. Gregor chuckles and plops down next to the mage. Serah, surprising, sits next to Cedric and Sirius sits in front of them. The servants pass out the food without a single word. Quinn makes sure to say thanks as one hands him a plate and he catches Eodyn and Serah doing the same. He hears a murmur from Cedric that he assumes is a "thanks" as well. Both, Serah and Cedric, give into the mabari's begging and offer him some of their food. The hound moves around the fire, begging from the rest of the recruits. Quinn happily shares, finding the mabari's puppy eyes adorable, but Sylvia shifts away from Sirius, watching him with wariness. Is she afraid of mabaris?

"So, you a Circle mage, huh? Can't imagine you being a popular one, being as outspoken as you are," Gregor mentions to Quinn.

"I wasn't. But, it was more than being outspoken. I was rebellious and resentful. So scoldings were a regular thing for me whenever I got bored. They kept me in the library to keep me preoccupied most of the time. Even let me skip classes, as long as I was there," Quinn elaborates.

"An aspiring scholar, eh?"

"Not really. I had a lot of sex too. That doesn't make me an aspiring prostitute, does it?" Quinn replies.

"No. Just a man whore," Eodyn cuts in with a grin.

"Exactly," Quinn agrees with a laugh, knowing the elf is joking. "Anyways, I was always driving the Knight-Commander mad…. Your name is similar to his. You're Gregor. He's Greagoir. Hmmmm… I don't know if I like you anymore, now," the mage jests.

"I thought the Circle made troublesome mages tranquil," Ser Jory brings up. Quinn nearly chokes on his food. Way to turn thing sour, Ser Jory.

"Tranquil?" Daveth echoes.

"The Rite of Tranquility is meant for apprentices who cannot control or refuse to control their magic. Or with reasonable proof that the mage in question is consorting with demons or partaking in blood magic. Not to say it hasn't been misused," Alistair corrects.

"If the First Enchanter is a strong and respected voice in the circle, misuse is rare. But, if that's not the case, it's more probable," Quinn expands. Irving is strong and respected. Guilt claws at his chest. "I was special. First Enchanter Irving's apprentice. I'm sure I wouldn't be here otherwise."

"I'm surprised you are aware of it, Ser Jory," Serah notes.

"I have only heard of it in passing. I'm not sure what exactly it is, to be honest," the knight answers.

"What is it, then?" Eodyn questions. Quinn stares down at his food.

"I don't want to talk about it. It's just… bad," Quinn replies, stiffly. Besides, he doesn't know the process, just what comes after it. Jowan's face appears in his head. The actions he committed before fleeing. His stupid lies.

"The trials mages undertake are just as secret as the Joining. No one knows the process of it other than the Templars who preform it and the mages who undergo it. Both are bound to secrecy. Only the results of it are known to us. That's all that will be said on this matter," Serah says with finality. The mage silently thanks the Warden-Constable. It seems the Grey Wardens are aware of many things. Gregor clears his throat.

"Well, I got some fin—."

"Gregor, they are going into the Wilds tomorrow. No alcohol." Serah, quickly, interrupts. Gregor makes a pouty face which makes Quinn chuckle.

"You should take some lessons from the mabari. He's a master of the puppy eyes," the mage jibes. The rest of the meal goes fairly smoothly. The Grey Wardens scarf down their food in no time at all and, surprisingly, so does Sylvia. Once everyone is finished, the servants return to take the empty plates. Cedric quickly departs, taking his sword and shield, and disappears into a large tent with Sirius at his heel. Ser Jory, Daveth, and Eodyn follow, though they head into the tent beside the one the warrior entered. But, then again, who wants to room with the broody young man? Serah seems like the only one that can get him to cooperate in any way, barely.

"Quinn." The mage turns to the Warden-Constable, surprised she called his name.

"Yes?" he replies.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to get you outfitted with some different gear. Your Circle attire is hardly suitable for braving the Wilds," Serah points out. Quinn hastily agrees, ready to get out of the robes. He follows the elven warden to yet another tent. She immediately starts looking through the equipment.

"Take off your clothes," she instructs without looking away from her task. Quinn covers his chest and pretends to look scandalized.

"And here I thought you were into the broody, warrior types," he jokes. Serah laughs.

"Cedric has lost a lot, recently, as has Eodyn too, but…" Serah trails off. "Besides, neither of you are my type. Nobles are a turn-off."

"I was Circle raised, thank you very much," Quinn argues.

"Just as bad… Now, strip, mage, or I'll leave you to run around in those robes you love so much," she threatens, jokingly.

"I'm stripping, I'm stripping…. Sheesh, the girls back at the Circle weren't nearly as pushy as you. They stripped for me."

"I'm not Circle raised."

"Ooohh. I see how it is.

"I'm sure you don't."

"And King Cailan said you all are stodgy priests," the mage scoffs, sarcastically. Serah pulls out some items as she snickers. Quinn stands in his small clothes, waiting for her to hand him some clothing. It's too chilly to stand practically naked, even in a tent. She gives him a pair of thick pants and a heavy linen shirt, which he quickly puts on.

"King Cailan has mainly dealt with Duncan and Dominic. Both are solemn men…. Those scars on your back…."

Quinn blinks a couple times before realizing what the Warden is talking about.

"Oh, I'm surprised you noticed. They're really faint, I can hardly see them anymore… I got them before coming to Ferelden," Quinn clarifies. He doesn't want to remember. He doesn't want to think about it. His hand, unconsciously, rises up to touch the sapphire earring dangling from his left ear.

"My apologizes. I didn't mean to stir up bad memories. I'm sure you've had enough of that today," Serah expresses as she hands the mage a sleeveless, fur lined coat. The black coat isn't nearly as long as his robe, the bottom of it falling just above his knees. Far more better for mobility purposes. The collar is high and a fur lined hood is attached to it.

"A hood?" he asks.

"It'll come in handy," she states. She finishes off his attire with a leather belt, fur lined leather boots and gauntlets, and pouches to strap on his belt and legs.

"I'm guessing these come in handy, too." Quinn points to the pouches. Serah nods.

"One last thing." Serah grabs a staff with a thin mace-like part at one end and a small red gem on the other.

"But, I have a staff." Quinn gestures to the wooden staff resting on his old robes.

"Yes, but it's not very effective if the darkspawn want to get up close and personal. This will give you more of an advantage in that situation."

"I don't know how to fight like that. I was taught spells and potions, not close combat."

Serah performs a series of swings and jabs with the staff.

"This will be enough. Basics is all you need. You don't have to go for the kill, or anything. Just don't let them get ahold of you. Just keep knocking them back until you see an opening or an ally comes. Easy," she explains.

"Yeah. Easy for you to say. Just because I was an aspiring prostitute doesn't mean I know how to use actual polearms. Mine is of a different make," Quinn quips.

"Mind out of the gutter, please," the Warden Constable replies with an amused smile. She hands him his satchel and the new staff. She also hands him the ring Irving had given him after the Harrowing. He frowns. "You don't have to wear it, but you should keep it. I think you might regret it otherwise."

Quinn, hesitantly, takes it and places it in his satchel next to the ring Keeper Marethari had given to Sylvia, who had tossed it in a fit of rage. He had only found it by luck. Serah pushes the mage out of the tent and sends him back to the fire. She swiftly heads into the tent Cedric had entered earlier. Sylvia is sitting in the same place as when he left. Other than her paling skin, she seems to be fine. A least, she hasn't blanked out or fainted like earlier. Quinn jumps in front of her, causing her to jump, and he strikes a pose.

"How do I look? Dashing? Handsome? Amazing? Magnificent?" the mage brags. The tainted elf rolls her eyes and gives him a weak kick to the shin. He sits down beside. "I know, I know. Words cannot describe how marvelous I look."

He feels her elbow jab his side. Maybe, she will make it to the Joining. She just needs to hold on for one more day. One more day…. Please, don't die.

Next chapter is going to have more action to it now that the recruits are going into the Kocari Wilds. I just moved into my dorm and am starting classes and a new job. I'm not too sure if that will help or hinder me. I spend a lot of time in my room, so I'm hoping it will speed up my updates.

Also, the prostitute thing. I apologize if I offended anyone. I mean no offense. And I apologize for any mistakes.

Thank you for reading. Constructive criticism is welcomed.