I'm not completely conviced this chapter is my best work, but the more I read it, the more I want to put it up...So here ya go!

Bioware owns eveything.

It Might be Hungry…

After my musings on the bridge, I wandered about the large camp. I felt my head buzzing again and was disappointed to find two templars guarding an entrance. Not wanting to be noticed by them, I ran off like a chicken.

Bravely ran away, away. I thought, the Monty Python reference making me smile.

I saw Duncan standing at a fire, talking to another man. I assumed that part of the camp was for the Grey Wardens. Not wanting to bother them I abruptly turned to the left. I noticed someone staring at me, but pretended not to care. I was having too much fun, more fun than I had in a while.

Is this what happens when someone slowly goes crazy? Or am I just going back to normal? Maybe I will never be normal again.

To make my point about normal be a little more true to myself, I waved at an elderly lady dressed in robes. She smiled and waved politely back.

See, the old me would have done something like that. Just, not in public.

The sound of barking drew me to an area full of kennels. I love dogs. I had my aunt get me one when I was thirteen. She was a terrier mutt from the humane society. She was a great, friendly old pal. Had a thing for waking up at exactly seven thirty-two. If It was a weekend, she would bark and complain until someone got up to let her out. We had her for four years until she had to be put down. Cindy was one of my best friends.

These dogs were nothing like poor old Cindy. Their bodies were barrel like and pure muscle, the chest wider than any mans. Their backs sloped down from the heads, which looked like they had been roughly place as if someone had forgotten to give them a neck. All four paws were like giant dinner plates, equipped with claws ready to tear at flesh. They had to be at least four and a half feet tall at the shoulder. It was like looking at a great dane on steroids. The only thing that made them seem comical was there short, stubby tails, and tall cropped ears.

Among all of these terrifying beasts however, one was separated from the rest. It looked sickly, his breathing ragged. It seemed as if any moment could be his last, ready to drift away into the unknown.

"Hey, puppy," I groaned inwardly at my choice of words. This was no puppy.

He lifted up his great head and stared at me pitifully. His deep brown eyes full of grief.

A man came up beside me. "Nothing we can do about him I'm afraid."

"Why not?" I was a little fearful of sticking my hand in the wooden bars, so I poked in a stick.

"Got darkspawn blood in his system," he answered.

The massive animal looked at my offering and sniffed it. He gave me a look reminding me of my third grade teacher. We called it the "unimpressed" face.

"He seems to like you. First reaction we've had out of him in a while." The man ran a hand through his hair. "Say, could you try something for me?"

"Like…?" I didn't like were this was going.

"Nothing big, just put this muzzle on him so I can give him some poultice," he then shoved me into the enclosure and dropped the muzzle in my hands before I could protest.

The dog got up painfully at my entrance. "I-It's okay boy," I stuttered. He was a lot bigger up close and upright.

I approached the dog slowly. He watched me, cocking his head at me when I stopped about a foot away.

"You're not so bad."

He closed the distance between us and I managed to get the muzzle on without that much trembling.

"Good boy," I said, patting him awkwardly on the head.

"Fantastic! I cannot believe he actually let you do that! This is great. Where are my manners, I am the kennel master," The man said. He shook my hand warmly with a huge grin to accompany it.

"It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," I admitted.

"You know what would help his chances? If you ever go into the Wilds, there is a flower, red middle and white border. I would increase his chances significantly! Then maybe I could get him to imprint on you. This is fantastic!" He went on like that for a bit, and I let him talk. It was a nice change to see someone so ecstatic. It was almost enjoyable.

When I did manage to detach myself from the kennel master, I found myself in front of the quartermaster, or in English, the merchant in charge of the kings army. I didn't like him much-he kept going on about a missing elf, which did show up while we were talking-but I needed a change of attire. The clothes that Lodan had made for me had to be switched to real armour.

I stared at the iron pieces and the leather set. In theory, I could easily use my bow and be fast enough to dodge attacks with the leather. If I had the iron set though, I could swing my sword around like a maniac if I so wished, in theory. My final conclusion was that if a hammer crushed my back, it wouldn't matter which set I was wearing. I chose the leather.

I paid for it, and with the help of the elf, I got changed. After a bit of frustration on my part I emerged from the tent. I paid for it and was on my way again after I asked for directions from the elf. Apparently Alistair was slightly well known.

Though I was completely covered, I was really self conscious. The leather was tight. Really tight. A big change from the year of baggy clothes that I had become accustom to. Plus, people were staring. My self esteem had obviously suffered.

I had just turned a corner when I heard two men arguing. Or one was arguing.

"What is it now. Haven't the Grey Wardens asked enough of the Circle?"

I hide behind a pillar, not willing to walk in on this, or the angry speaker.

I simply came to deliver a message from the Revered Mother," another, lighter, voice said, "she desires your presence."

"What her Reverence desires is of no concern to me. I am busy helping the Grey Wardens. By the kings orders I might add."

"Should I have asked her to write a note?"

I giggled.

"Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!" the first seethed.

"Yes, I was harassing you, by delivering a message."

"You're glibness does you no credit."

"Here I thought we were getting along so well! I was even going to name one of my children after you," his voice darkened slightly, "The grumpy one!"

"Enough, I will speak to the woman if I must."

I crept out from behind the pillar, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, only to run into a mage head on.

"Get out of my way fool!" he barked, his voice betraying that he was the angry person in the recent conversation.

"Sorry," I muttered. I side stepped around him and walked towards the Warden.

The man was covered in splintmail, a sword and shield at his back. He shared the characteristic of being tall, like every other man here it seemed. He had sand blond hair, a strong nose, and brown eyes. I got the feeling that a lot of people were going for the barely there facial hair, as he too had a small amount covering his chin. Every other solider I had seen had something to the effect of that.

"You know," he said, "one thing about the Blight is how it brings people together."

I smiled. "You must be Alistair."

"Why yes I am. Wait, we haven't met have we? I don't suppose you happen to be another mage."

I looked down at my attire, and weapons. Sword at my hip and bow and quiver at my back. "If I'm a mage, better not talk to me they way you talked to him. You might not make it."

"You never know," he grinned. "These mages sneak up on you. Wait, I do know who you are. Your Duncan's new recruit! I should have recognized you right away I apologize."

"There's no need to do that. I could have been bright purple with four arms for all you knew."

He laughed. "Maybe!"

"So, Alistair, why was it so important that I find you?"

"Well, as junior member of the Order, I'll be helping you prepare for your Joining."

"Good to know. By the way, the names Abigail. But please, call me Abby," I offered my hand.

"Right! That was the name. You know it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is."

I figured it was a trap, but I played along anyway. "Well making supper and fixing clothing probably has something to do with it. Keeping the population up too."

"That sounds like a good reason," he chuckled. Then he was serious. "I'm curious. Have you ever encountered darkspawn before?"

"Yes, when I met Duncan."

The Warden nodded. "When I fought my first one, I wasn't prepared for how monstrous it was. I can't say I look forward to encountering another. Anyhow, when you're ready let's get back to Duncan."

"Before we get going, what was that whole thing with the mage?"

"You saw that did you?" I nodded. "Well the Circle is here at the kings request, much to the Chantry's displeasure. But they love showing how unwelcome mages are. It puts me in a difficult position. You see I was once a templar."

"A mage-hunter?" I breathed.

He frowned at my sudden change of mood. "That's not the only thing that templars do, but yes. I was raised by the Chantry until Duncan recruited me six months ago. I'm sure the Revered Mother meant it as an insult sending the message with me. The mage picked right up on that. I would have never agreed to deliver it but Duncan says we are all supposed to get along. Apparently they didn't get the same speech."

"I guess so," I said, staring at my feet.

"Is something wrong?"

Now or never. This man is going to be your colleague. Your brother at arms.

"I just recently had a bad experience with templars. It's not your fault. I know it isn't. You seem really nice."

"Oh," he didn't look like he was expecting that. "You might have to take that last part back once you get to know me."

"We'll see," I said, and I relaxed again.