A Truly Noble Companion!
As Duran made his way toward Lothering, the sharp, eager bark of a Mabari dog reached his ears from around the next bend in the road. The sound grew louder with each passing moment, echoing off the trees as it drew nearer. Duran's eyes narrowed as he scanned the path ahead, soon catching sight of the dog—a sturdy creature with a powerful frame, its coat dusted with the grime of travel. But what struck him most was the urgency in the dog's movements. It was running toward them, looking back as though something was chasing it.
The unmistakable scent of Darkspawn soon filled the air. The Mabari wasn't running from something—it was running toward something, charging ahead with fierce determination. With a final burst of speed, the dog skidded to a halt before Duran, barking sharply, its eyes filled with an intensity that spoke of a warrior's soul. A low growl rumbled from deep in its chest as it faced the oncoming horde of Darkspawn.
Without hesitation, the dog lunged at the monsters, its powerful jaws tearing into the grotesque flesh of the enemy. The battle was swift, and the last of the Darkspawn fell with a final, gurgling scream. As the echoes of battle faded, the dog stood over the fallen bodies, panting heavily, before it turned back to Duran. It trotted up to him, pressing its massive head into Duran's leg, its tail wagging excitedly.
Duran looked down at the dog, a spark of recognition in his eyes. This was the same Mabari he had helped in the camp at Ostagar—the dog that had fought valiantly and survived the chaos. Despite the ravages of war, the dog had seemingly recovered from the Taint of the Darkspawn. His heart warmed as he reached down to stroke the dog's rough, battle-worn coat.
"Look at you," Duran said softly, his fingers running through the dog's fur. "You've made it through the worst of it, haven't you?"
Alistair, who had been walking behind him, raised an eyebrow, watching as Duran and the dog shared a quiet moment. "So, you're keeping him, then?" Alistair asked, his tone light but with a hint of affection.
Before Duran could respond, Morrigan, who had been eyeing the dog with clear disdain, scoffed. "You're not seriously considering taking such a useless flea-ridden creature on this journey, are you?" Her eyes narrowed with skepticism.
Duran turned to her with a grin. "He's certainly no useless creature," he retorted. "And he's certainly no flea-ridden mutt, either."
Alistair, ever the soft touch, knelt down beside the dog, his expression shifting from teasing to genuine affection. "No, he's a fine, brave Mabari! Yes, you are a fine warhound, aren't you?" Alistair cooed, scratching the dog's belly as the Mabari rolled over, clearly enjoying the attention.
The dog's tail wagged with a few enthusiastic thumps against the ground, and Duran chuckled as he watched his companions interact with the animal. Despite Morrigan's disapproval, the dog's presence seemed to bring something of a lightness to the group.
With a satisfied smile, Duran gave the dog one last pat on the head. "Welcome to the team, old friend. You're a good ally, and I'm glad to have you with us."
Morrigan shot a glare at the dog, clearly unconvinced by Duran's attachment to the creature. "We'll see how long your fine warhound lasts in the battles to come," she muttered under her breath.
But Duran, Alistair, and the Mabari paid her little mind. They had gained a new and loyal companion—a brave soul who had fought through the darkness and survived. Together, they would face whatever horrors awaited them, one battle at a time.