Extra lives Chapter 3 New girl, a dragon age fanfic

The clang of steel against steel rang out across the training grounds, the sound sharp and clear in the crisp morning air. Duncan moved with a practiced grace, his longsword a blur of precise strikes and calculated parries. He was a master of traditional swordplay, every movement honed by years of training and experience. I, on the other hand… well, I was something else entirely someone who was just trying not to get her head cut off by a swinging sword.

He doesn't go easy on me at all.

I feinted to his left, my sword flashing in the sunlight, then abruptly dropped to the ground, tucking my shoulder and rolling. It wasn't elegant, it certainly wasn't textbook Grey Warden, but it was effective. My legs swept out from under him, and I heard a surprised grunt as he landed heavily on ground.

I scrambled back to my feet, grinning as I offered him a hand up. He took it, dusting off his dark leather armor with a sigh. "Gwenet," he said, his voice a mix of exasperation and amusement, "that's… unorthodox."

"Effective, though, right?" I countered, my grin widening. I couldn't help it; I enjoyed throwing him off balance. It wasn't about winning, not really. It was about seeing that flicker of surprise in his eyes, the momentary hesitation before he adjusted to my unpredictable style.

He conceded with a slight shake of his head. "Effective, perhaps," he said, "but not… becoming of a Grey Warden. We rely on discipline and strategy, not… trickery."

I shrugged, letting my sword rest on my shoulder. "Sometimes trickery is the best strategy," I argued. "Especially when you're facing something bigger, stronger, or… well, just plain nastier than you." I thought back to the darkspawn in the forest, their grotesque forms and savage attacks. Sometimes, a well-placed kick or a quick roll was all that stood between you and a gruesome death.

Duncan sighed again, but there was a hint of a smile in his eyes. "I understand your… pragmatism, Gwenet," he said. "But the Grey Wardens are more than just survivors. We are leaders, strategists, and symbols of hope. We must inspire confidence, not… confusion."

"And how am I supposed to inspire confidence by fighting fair against a horde of monsters?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are they going to stop and say, 'Oh, look, she's fighting with honor! Let's give her a chance to regroup'?"

Duncan chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "You have a point," he admitted. "But there is a balance, Gwenet. Adaptability is important, but you must also master the fundamentals. You can't rely on trickery alone." He picked up his sword, his expression turning serious. "Now," he said, his voice firm, "we're going to try that again. But this time… we'll do it properly."

He took his stance, his sword held in a classic guard position. "No rolling," he instructed, his eyes fixed on me. "No dropping to the ground. We'll focus on footwork, parrying, and proper strikes. Understand?"

I sighed dramatically, but I straightened up and took my own stance, mimicking his as best I could. It felt stiff and awkward, so different from my usual fluid movements. "Understood," I muttered, adjusting my grip on my sword.

"Good," Duncan said, his eyes narrowing in concentration.

He lunged forward, his sword a blur of motion. I barely managed to parry the strike, the force of it jarring my arm. He pressed his attack, forcing me to step back, parrying and blocking each strike. It was a relentless assault, but it was also a lesson. He was showing me the proper way, the disciplined way, the way of the Grey Wardens.

I focused on his movements, trying to mimic his footwork and his precise strikes. It was frustrating at first, my body wanting to revert to its usual unpredictable tactics. But as we continued, I began to find a rhythm, a flow to the movements. It wasn't as flashy or as immediately effective as my usual style, but there was a power and a control to it that I had never experienced before.

After several minutes of intense sparring, Duncan finally stepped back, lowering his sword. "Better," he said, a hint of approval in his voice. "Still needs work, but it's a start. Remember, Gwenet, adaptability is a valuable asset, but it must be built on a foundation of solid fundamentals."

I nodded, my chest heaving, my muscles burning. It was exhausting, but I had to admit, it felt… different. There was a sense of accomplishment in mastering these new techniques, a feeling of control that I hadn't felt before. Maybe there was something to this "proper" way of fighting after all.

"I'll be traveling to Denerim soon, to recruit more potential Wardens. I expect you to continue practicing while I'm gone. Don't let what I've shown you today go to waste."

I nodded, feeling a flicker of apprehension at the thought of being left to my own devices. "I will,". he looked at me as if he didn't believe me "And try not to make the templars mad" He warned me

The days after Duncan's departure stretched into a week, then two. Ostagar felt strangely quiet without his presence. Allistair continued his training with the other recruits, but there was a noticeable lack of the usual stern but guiding hand. I tried to focus on my own practice, diligently working on the drills Duncan had shown me. The disciplined movements still felt awkward, but I was starting to get the hang of it.

But without Duncan there to keep me in line, a certain… restlessness began to creep in. The training was important, I knew, but it was also… boring. And the Templars, with their rigid adherence to rules and their perpetually grim expressions, were making the atmosphere even more stifling.

That's when the idea struck me. It started small, a simple scattering of birdseed on the Chantry roof, just enough to "encourage" the local pigeons to find a new roost. The Templar training grounds, specifically. The result was… amusing, to say the least. Feathers drifted down like snow, coating the Templars' armor and disrupting their drills. Their sputtering and frustrated shouts provided a much-needed dose of levity to the camp.

Emboldened by my success, I decided to escalate things a bit. The Templars' lyrium supply was kept in a large, heavy chest, usually stored inside their main tent. It wasn't exactly Fort Knox, and I noticed they often left it unlocked during their evening prayers. It wasn't stealing, I reasoned, just… relocating. With a bit of effort and some strategic maneuvering, I managed to drag the heavy chest behind their tent, concealing it amongst some thick bushes.

The next morning, the Templars were in a frenzy. Their tent was turned inside out, their belongings scattered across the ground. Their frantic search for the missing lyrium provided me with another source of amusement, though I made sure to keep my face carefully neutral when I passed by. It wasn't long before they found it, of course, but the sheer panic on their faces had been worth the effort. I giggle from beside Allistair as he lets out a small chuckle.

"Oh, come on, Allistair," I said, grinning. "It's just a bit of fun. They need to lighten up."

"Perhaps," Allistair conceded, "but with Duncan gone… there's no one to protect you from their… displeasure." He paused, his expression turning more serious. "Just… try to behave yourself, Gwenet. At least until Duncan gets back."

I shrugged, but I knew he was right. I probably should tone it down, at least a little. But the image of the pigeon-covered Templar and the frantic search for the lyrium chest was just too amusing to resist.

The training grounds were quiet, the usual sounds of practice replaced by the gentle rustling of the wind through the trees. I was going through the sword forms Duncan had shown me, trying to keep my movements precise and disciplined, but my mind kept wandering. It had been several days since he'd left for Denerim, and the camp felt strangely empty without his presence.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. I turned, and my eyes widened in surprise. It was Duncan, returning earlier than I'd expected. But he wasn't alone. Standing beside him was a young woman with dark red hair and striking features a few specks of blood on her armor not very functional She was wearing a chest plate but also a chainmail skirt, gloves, and boots. I stopped questioning the armor in this world a long time ago.

Ela had a certain intensity in her eyes that caught my attention. Something almost primal lights in my heart a desire to protect her at all cost.

"Gwenet," Duncan said, his voice carrying across the training grounds. He gestured to the woman beside him. "This is Ela. I found her… in need of our assistance." He paused, a hint of seriousness in his voice. "She has agreed to join the Grey Wardens."

I blinked, surprised. I offered Ela a tentative smile.

"Welcome to Ostagar," I said. "I'm Gwenet." I search her eyes for a hint of something other than fire.

Ela nodded, her expression reserved. "Ela Tabris," she replied, her voice quiet but firm. her ears pointed clearly she's an elf and a cute one at that.

Duncan turned to me, his expression becoming more businesslike. "Gwenet, I need you to take Ela to Allistair. He'll explain the basics and get her settled in." He glanced around the training grounds. "And perhaps… keep her out of trouble," he added, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He knew about the pigeons.

I chuckled, rolling my eyes. "Sure, Duncan," I said. "I'll keep her on the straight and narrow." I turned to Ela. "Come on," I said, gesturing towards the main camp. "Allistair's probably by the old temple. He's usually there when he's not… well, doing anything important."

As we walked towards the camp, I couldn't help but wonder about Ela. She seemed quiet and serious, a stark contrast to my own more… impulsive nature. But there was something else there too, a hidden strength, a determination that I recognized. I had a feeling we were going to get along just fine. Or at least, things would be interesting. I lead her towards the old temple stairwell still not memorizing the names of the temples or the major cities for that matter.

"So," I said, trying to break the silence as we began to climb the worn stone steps, "Duncan said you had a… difficult time of it. If you don't mind me asking, where are you from?"

Ela hesitated for a moment, then let out a small sigh. "I'm from the Alienage in Denerim," she said, her voice quiet. "It's… well, it's where the city elves live. Or rather, where they're kept." There was a bitterness in her tone that made me think there was more to the story.

"It was supposed to be my wedding day," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mine and my cousin Soris'. But… a local lord, Vaughan, and his men came to the Alienage. They… they caused trouble. They were harassing the women." Her voice trailed off, and I could see a flicker of anger in her eyes.

"My cousin Shianni knocked him unconscious," Ela continued, a hint of pride in her voice. "But he came back. With guards. They… they took all the women. Including my cousin and his betrothed." Her voice cracked, and she looked away, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I… I managed to escape," she said, her voice barely audible. "But… Vaughan… I… I killed him." She looked back at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and defiance. "It was self-defense. But… I know they'll come looking for me."

I stopped walking, placing a hand on her shoulder. "That's… that's terrible," I said, my voice filled with genuine sympathy. "I'm so sorry." Anger flooded me i wish i was the one to kill that.. That rapist.

"Duncan found me shortly after," Ela continued. "He told me about the Grey Wardens. He said… he said it was a chance for a new life. A chance to fight for something… bigger." She looked at me, her eyes searching mine. "I don't know if I believe him. But… I don't have anywhere else to go."

I squeezed her shoulder gently. "I understand," I said, though I couldn't truly comprehend the pain she must be feeling. "The Wardens… they're good people. They'll protect you." I gave her a small, reassuring smile. "And Allistair… he's a good friend. He'll help you through if all else fails i will personally protect you"

We resumed our climb, the weight of Ela's story hanging heavy in the air. I couldn't imagine what she had been through, losing her family, being forced to kill someone, and then being thrust into this strange new world of Grey Wardens and darkspawn. But I knew one thing: she was strong. She had survived. And that, in itself, was something.

All i know is morals aside that man got what was coming to him. Ela just made sure he would know that for certain. No one hurts elves with me in the way. Slave or not I'm going to protect them they don't deserve the abuse they get.

The familiar smell of rust fills my nose as we get to the top of the tower. A mage dressed in red robes is angrily saying something to Allisair.

"Hasent the circle done enough for the grey wardens" He angrily asked but his tone was oddly calm

"I simply came to deliver a message from the revered mother sir mage" Allistair awkwardly tells him trying to find the correct words. "She desires your presence"

"Better hop to it," I chimed in, my voice stern and loud, cutting through the tense atmosphere. It was a stupid thing to say, I knew, but I couldn't stand the way the mage was berating Allistair. They both turned to look at me, surprised by my interruption. Allistair's eyebrow shot up in amusement, while the mage's expression darkened even further. He seemed less than thrilled by my interjection. He looked down at me and then back at Allistair.

"Grey Wardens," he muttered, his voice laced with disdain. He gave us both one last withering look before turning on his heel and striding away towards the Chantry tents.

Once the mage was gone, I turned to Allistair, giving him a small shrug. "Sorry about that," I said. "He was being a bit of a… well, you know. "

"Yeah the a Blight is just what we need to bring people together" I half joke

Allistair chuckled, shaking his head. "It's alright," he said. "He's always like that. The Circle and the Wardens… it's a complicated relationship." He then looked past me, his expression softening slightly. "Oh, hello. I didn't see you there." He turned to me. "Gwenet, this is…?"

"This is Ela," I said, placing a hand on Ela's shoulder. She had been standing quietly beside me during the exchange with the mage, her expression unreadable. "Duncan asked me to bring her to you. She's… another recruit."

Allistair's eyes widened slightly. "Another woman this is rare?" he said, looking at Ela with a warm smile. "Welcome to Ostagar. I'm Allistair."

Ela gave a small, hesitant smile in return. "It's nice to meet you," she said, her voice quiet.

"Another woman" I repeat hand on my hip Ela looked at him like he was a perv.

"I didn't mean it like that" He backtracks throwing his hands up "Please don't look at me like that" He cleared his throat clearly uncomfortable as I laugh at him he mumbled

"Duncan also said we should give you a quick tour of the camp," I added, glancing around the platform. "Since you'll be here for a while, it's good to know where everything is."

"since when" Allistair hesitated, glancing back towards the main camp as if expecting Duncan to reappear. He seemed a little overwhelmed by the prospect of giving a tour, but he eventually nodded. "Alright," he said, giving Ela a reassuring smile. "A tour it is. Though, I'm not the best tour guide, I'm afraid."

"Don't worry," I said, giving him a playful nudge. "I'll help you. Besides, it's not like Ostagar is exactly a sprawling city."

I led the way down the narrow staircase, Ela following close behind. The first stop on our impromptu tour was the quartermaster's tent.

It was a tiny part of camp, The quartermaster himself, a gruff, middle-aged man with a perpetually sour expression, sat behind a makeshift desk, meticulously counting a stack of arrows. I'd had a few run-ins with him already, mostly involving requests for slightly-less-worn boots and slightly-sharper training swords. He wasn't exactly my favorite person in Ostagar.

"This is where you get your supplies," I explained to Ela, keeping my tone neutral. "Try not to ask for anything too fancy. He's not exactly… generous."

The quartermaster grunted in response, barely glancing up from his work. We quickly moved on.

Our next stop was the Mabari war dogs' kennel. The air was filled with barking and the distinct smell of dog fur. The Mabari handler, a kind-faced man with calloused hands and a warm smile, enthusiastically greeted us. He seemed genuinely fond of his dogs, each a large, powerful beast with intelligent eyes.

"Ah, Allistair! And who's th is?" the handler asked, his gaze shifting to Ela.

"Im Ela" She introduced herself keeping it vague.

The handler smiled warmly at Ela. "Welcome to Ostagar, lass. These are my Mabari," he said, gesturing to the dogs. "Finest war dogs in Ferelden, they are."

He then turned to Ela, his expression becoming slightly more serious. "Actually, I was wondering if you could do me a small favor. One of my dogs, has been sick. I need to put a muzzle on him so I can clean it properly, but he's being a bit… difficult."

"Ok" Ela agreed as she stepped into the pin i leaned against the fence a small smile tugging at my lips as she put the muzzle on the dog who at first backed up with a scared growl.

"We're probably going into the wilds soon" I start looking at the handler "Do you need anything to help him"

"A flower it's yellow with a red center it should help him get better soon," He tells me who nods before we say a quick goodbye as we see Duncan looking at us

"Have fun" I tell Ela and Allistair as I slowly walk away seeing a familiar anger in Duncan's eyes.

I saw Allistair approaching, followed by Ela and the two other recruits, Daveth and Jory. I'd changed out of my tunic and into my armor, the familiar weight of it settling comfortably on my shoulders. I leaned against a wooden fence, idly tracing patterns in the dirt with the toe of my boot. I'd been waiting for them, but my attention was drawn elsewhere. Duncan was standing by the fire pit, arms crossed, his face set in a grim expression. He wasn't striding towards me, but his posture alone radiated displeasure. Oh, bollocks, I thought. He knows.

As the recruits and Allistair reached me, I gave them a quick, tight smile. "Hey," I said, my eyes flicking towards Duncan, who remained by the fire, pointedly not looking at us but clearly aware of our presence.

"Gwenet," Allistair said, his voice hesitant, lowering his voice slightly so only I could hear. "Duncan's… not happy." He glanced towards the fire pit, then back at me, his expression a mixture of concern and exasperation. "I heard some of the Templars complaining. Something about pigeons… and missing lyrium."

I winced inwardly. So the news had spread. "It was just a bit of fun," I mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

"Fun that could have serious consequences," Allistair countered, his voice a low warning. "With the Blight looming, the Templars are already on edge. This… this doesn't help." He paused, then added in a slightly softer tone, "Just… try to keep a low profile, Gwenet. At least until things settle down."

I bit my lip, knowing he was right. "I know," I said quietly. "I'm sorry." I glanced back at Duncan, who was still by the fire, his back to us now. It was clear he wasn't going to approach, but his silent disapproval was almost worse than a direct scolding.

I forced a more cheerful expression onto my face as I turned back to the recruits. "Alright, recruits," I announced, clapping my hands together. "Field trip!"

Allistair immediately corrected me, a slight smile on his face. "It's a scouting mission, Gwenet," he said gently. "Not a field trip."

"Right, right," I said, dismissively waving my hand. It's a mission. Korcari Wilds. Three vials of darkspawn blood. some old documents. Let's move out."