"Oh, I'm not a recruit," says Elissa. "I'm here on other business. Hoping to speak with you, in fact."

He looks at her again, this time actually paying attention to her face instead of just noticing that she existed as a member of a headcount. "Lady Cousland! This is a surprise."

"It won't be a pleasant one, I'm afraid. Rendon Howe killed my parents and took Highever by force, and I'm here to tell my brother - he should've arrived within the last few days, bringing the Cousland troops to fight the darkspawn."

"Howe--my greatest condolences, my lady. I swear that when we're done here, he will be brought to justice. Your brother is out scouting in the forest, he arrived a few days ago."

"Thank you, your majesty."

"You're quite welcome. We've slain quite a lot of darkspawn, but alas, there's been no sign of an Archdemon."

"Is that bad?" inquires the six-foot-tall elf.

"...Maker you're tall. Are you an elf? Yes, you must be. I had no idea elves could get that tall."

"We usually don't."

"Don't worry, Shiral and I are regular sized."

"So I see!" the King says, blinking at the two other elves.

"Hello," says Shiral.

"Hello!" He looks over his shoulder. "I'd love to stay and talk, but unfortunately I think Loghain is anxious to bore me with his strategies."

"Good luck with that."

He waves and heads off.

"Congratulate me, Elissa, I didn't tell him off for being an idiot."

"Congratulations," says Elissa. "I'll see if I can do anything about him."

"Good."

"The Joining should be undertaken soon," Duncan says to the recruits. "I don't know if Ambrose has yet returned from his recruitment trip from the Circle of Magi. If he has, you should seek him out sooner rather than later. You're free to explore the camp as you will, although I ask that you don't leave it. Once everyone is ready the Joining can begin."

"What does Ambrose look like?"

Duncan describes a young man with curly brown hair in Warden's armor.

"Let's go look for him, I guess," says Tev. "Elissa, are you coming?"

"Sure, why not."

"It'll be an adventure. Or something."

Daveth shrugs in agreement.

Elissa laughs.

The camp is nestled among the ruins of the fortress that once stood here, tents pitched between cracked flagstones. There's the Wardens' tent, and the various sections of the army - she looks, but can't see the Cousland banner anywhere - and over there, the Chantry tents, and past that the mages, and then the infirmary, and then -

"There he is," says Shiral, pointing.

Sitting nearby are what appears to be two mages.

"Well, let's go say hi."

"Hello! Are you Warden Ambrose?"

"Yes. Are you Duncan's recruits?"

"These four are; I'm just a fellow traveler. Elissa. Pleased to meet you."

"We're Warden Ambrose's recruits. I'm Carlos Amell," one of the mages says, getting to his feet. "This is Jago."

"I'm Daveth," says the only human among Duncan's recruits.

"I'm Tev," says Tev, and, because he suspects she won't if he doesn't, adds, "And this is Shiral."

"Acara Tabris."

"Duncan must have had more success than he was expecting," says Ambrose. "I'm glad."

"I think most of us have mixed feelings on the subject."

"Hardly surprising. Being a Grey Warden means leaving an awful lot behind."

She glances at Tev. "Yes. Of course, so does being a Circle Mage."

"Most of the children forget what they left behind, eventually."

Elissa looks thoughtfully at Ambrose.

"Is there anything in particular that we ought to see in camp? Or should we just get on with the initiation?"

"The initiation—" he glances at Elissa.

"Is secret Warden business and I should clear off and go find my brother. See you all later," she says, and smiles, and walks away.

Ambrose smiles slightly.

"As I was saying, the ceremony requires darkspawn blood, of which it's traditional for each recruit to kill a darkspawn and collect a vial. In a group this size I'm sure we won't have any trouble. Do any of you want to rest before we go out into the forest?"

Shrug. "I'm fine."

Daveth nods.

"Then I'll take a few minutes to exchange news with Duncan and meet you all at the gate. It's over there." He points.

To the gate, then.

To the gate!

"I wonder how the king's brother came to be a Grey Warden," says Shiral. "I didn't know he had a brother to begin with."

"As far as I know he doesn't, and I grew up in the capital. The alienage, granted, but many of us work in the homes of wealthy men and women. I'd have heard of it if it were common knowledge. You're saying Ambrose is the king's brother?"

"Was it not obvious?"

"Not to me!"

"Shemlen mostly look alike to me," she shrugs.

"They do look similar, but I can't say I immediately jumped to assuming bastardry."

"Perhaps I shouldn't have said anything." And to Acara, "They all look alike? Really? Is that the literal truth or an expression of contempt?"

"Contempt. The shemlen I've met who were worth telling apart have been few and far between thus far."

"I haven't met very many."

"Elissa and Duncan are above average. Her more than him. I hope they don't spoil you for the rest."

"Is this rude to discuss in front of you?" she asks the humans in the group.

"I regret that you were unable to meet better examples of humanity. I don't believe there's an inherent moral difference between elves and humans, and I've had a hand in the raising of many children of both species."

Daveth just shrugs.

"I can't claim to know much about mages. The templars always abducted any that were born to us."

"I know. I am deeply sorry for your loss."

"I wasn't close to anyone who lost a child to the Chantry."

Ambrose approaches from the direction of the Wardens' tents.

"Duncan has asked me to take care of an errand while we're out there; there are some documents he'd like retrieved from a ruin, if they're still there. But that shouldn't interfere with gathering vials of darkspawn blood."

"What documents?"

"Treaties promising aid to the Wardens in the event of a Blight."

"Why were they left in a ruin?"

"He didn't say. If I were to speculate, I might suggest the position was overrun and hiding them was possible but carrying them away was not. As for why they haven't been retrieved since then, they are by no means the only copies in existence, and there is some danger in the Korcari Wilds even when they aren't full of darkspawn. But since we're going out there anyway..." He shrugs.

"Mm."

"That makes sense. Shall we leave?"

"Yes."

He leads the way out the gate and down into the forest. There's a fair amount of down involved; the fortress of Ostagar sat at the top of a very tall cliff.

"I think the most efficient way to do this is probably to find the treaties first, and if we don't encounter enough darkspawn on the way there, we can seek them out more aggressively on the way back. Does that sound reasonable?"

"Better at it," murmurs Shiral, apparently to herself.

"Pardon?"

At a more conversational volume: "Yes, that does sound reasonable."

"Where are the vials?"

"I have them. One for each of you, and two extra in case of accidents."

"Does darkspawn blood stain? Getting it into vials sounds messy, and I like this armor. Getting another nice outfit bloodstained doesn't sound fun."

"You're likely to get more darkspawn blood on you in the process of killing them than in the process of collecting their blood afterward. It does sometimes stain, unfortunately."

"Maybe I should have held out for black leather."

He smiles slightly.

"If the most we have to worry about from darkspawn is laundry, I think we should count ourselves as lucky."

"Yes," Ambrose agrees.

Walk walk walk. The wilds are surprisingly pretty. Especially when you've spent most of your life inside a stone tower.

Not far out, they encounter a caravan recently attacked by darkspawn. There's one soldier still alive. Ambrose offers him an escort back to camp, but he insists that all he needs are some bandages and a gulp of healing potion and he can make it back by himself. Ambrose doesn't argue.

Would he also like a little bit of Helpful Magic, just in case?

The soldier accepts Carlos's assistance. Ambrose smiles.

Carlos casts helpful magic. He only hopes it's enough.

"He'll be all right," says Ambrose, looking back to watch the soldier limp up the trail. "There aren't any darkspawn near enough to find him before he reaches the gate."

"Good."

"How many darkspawn did it take to do this, I wonder."

"At least a dozen, probably more," says Ambrose, looking at the overturned wagon by the side of the road and the bodies scattered around it.

Shiral looks around, too, scrutinizing the tracks around the site of the... battle, if it can be called that.

"Fourteen," she concludes. "Or fifteen. I'd have to climb that ridge to find out whether they had one archer there or two."

"Are darkspawn much more difficult to kill than people? We ran into some on the way south, but Duncan got most of them."

"Not much more difficult, no."

"Alright then," she shrugs, apparently unconcerned by the possibility of running into any.

"Great, let's go."

They can continue walking until they run into darkspawn or ruins, then, whichever comes first.

Darkspawn are the thing that comes first.

"Darkspawn ahead," says Ambrose, gesturing at the crumbling stone walls on top of a low hill beside the path. "Five or ten. I don't expect we'll have much trouble with them."

Acara draws her sword and dagger.

The mages don't really need to draw weapons but they certainly look more focused.

Shiral strings her bow.

Tev draws his greatsword.

And Ambrose draws his sword, and then they're close enough to the ruins for the darkspawn to attack. Five charging, two more shooting from cover.

Make that one shooting from cover.

Fireball before any of them get close enough to risk friendly fire--probably won't kill them, or at least not all of them, but it should slow them down--and then some kind of glyph.

Picking off the archers seems like an efficient thing to do. Acara will check to see if Shiral appears to be going for that; if not, Acara will, if so, she'll engage with one of the formerly-charging now singed and getting to their feet again ones.

Shiral is indeed headed for the second archer, having already shot the first.

Another darkspawn pops up from behind a broken pillar and lunges for her as she passes. She puts a dagger in its eye without breaking stride.

Shiral is kind of intimidatingly competent. Acara will just. Slit this one's throat before it can finish standing up.

"Thanks for leaving some for the rest of us," Tev calls after Shiral. The darkspawn are mobbing him, apparently seeing him as the biggest available threat; he knocks their swords aside with his. Daveth stabs one in the back and Tev decapitates another. It's kind of gross.

At least they're not going to have any trouble filling their vials.

Carlos vaporizes a chunk of one's torso.

Ambrose needn't have bothered drawing his sword; he never has to use it.

"Good work, all of you," he says when the fight is over. "Here are your vials."

Yep, he was right; filling the vial gets less blood on her than the initial arterial spray did.

When all six recruits have filled their vials, and Ambrose has filled the two extra, he says, "Wouldn't it be nice if the darkspawn left us alone all the way to the cache and back?"

Tev laughs. "Maybe we should carry a sign. 'Already killed enough darkspawn today. Please come back tomorrow.'"

"Are darkspawn even smart enough to read? They're smart enough to operate complex weapons..."

"I've never heard of darkspawn reading, but I don't know everything," says Ambrose.

"They don't seem to have motives more complex than an animal's, but their ability to use complex tools to achieve their simplistic goals--worries me."

"I think regardless of their intelligence they're far too malicious to worry about the ethics of killing them."

"Killing people in self-defense is--necessary unfortunately often, and entirely justifiable. But it's still worth regretting."

"I don't especially regret it."

"You might find life as a Grey Warden difficult if you mourn every darkspawn you kill," says Ambrose. "But if that's how you choose to think of it, I won't tell you you're wrong. The legends do tell us that the first darkspawn were people once."

"I know. I don't think I can--mourn each one, individually. But--as a whole--I hope they're less intelligent than my fears tell me."

"I'm not sure intelligence is the thing that matters," he says thoughtfully.

"I suppose if anyone had run into darkspawn spirits wandering the Fade, I would probably have heard about it."

"What exactly is the point of worrying about this? We can't confirm it and it wouldn't make it less necessary to kill them."

"I suppose you're right."

"Don't just suppose it. Know it. I wouldn't be better off if I angsted over the shem guards I had to kill."

"I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?"

"I can't tell that story; Elissa's using it to blackmail someone. Suffice to say that the guards and the blackmailee really, really deserved it."

"Do people really run into the spirits of the dead wandering the Fade?" wonders Tev. "I wasn't sure if that happened or not."

"Not the dead, no, but sometimes the living dreaming."

"I don't think that is what matters either," says Shiral. "Dwarves don't dream."

"Dwarves also never have magic."

"...I'm not sure I follow."

"Dwarves are cut off from the Fade, and therefore have neither mages nor dreams. Darkspawn do have magic occasionally."

"Does that mean it's possible to have mages who don't dream? Interesting."

"There's a lot we don't know about darkspawn, since they're almost never safe to study."

"We may not know whether darkspawn dream, but we know that Archdemons do," Ambrose mentions.

"How do we know that?"

"One of the lesser-known signs of a Blight is that Grey Wardens start dreaming of the Archdemon, and the Archdemon's spirit is present in those dreams."

"Being a Grey Warden just keeps sounding like more and more fun," says Tev.

"Better that way than having learned than by some unsuspecting mage stumbling across it in the Fade."

"Okay, true."

"So does the archdemon just happen to generally be asleep at the same time we are or what?"

"I've never asked."

"Does sleeping at odd hours reduce the number of archdemon dreams?"

"I haven't tried."

"Okay."

"Have any Grey Wardens written books about this kind of thing?"

"Yes. There's a collection of such texts at Weisshaupt Fortress. I haven't yet had a chance to visit, so I can't tell you much about them."

"Alright." Maybe if they're lucky they can get to the ruins without running into any darkspawn even without a sign.

Unfortunately they are not that lucky.

"Darkspawn ahead. About two dozen. Carlos, Jago, if you have protective spells, now would be the time to use them. Shiral, see to their archers; you did well with that last time. A group this size may also have a mage. If so, I will deal with it."

"Wouldn't it be better to have one of us deal with the mage?" Jago wonders.

"Not necessarily. I will explain when we are not about to be ambushed."

"Okay." Warding glyphs are a protective spell, those can get cast.

And then the darkspawn attack. Four archers, three in a cluster and one off to the side; and one mage, as predicted.

Ambrose is not a flawless prodigy like Shiral, but he's competent and experienced and for some reason the mage seems to have trouble affecting him. Maybe that was a really good warding glyph.

The flawless prodigy picks off the lone archer at range and then closes on the remaining three. A pair of melee fighters get in her way. They are out of her way soon afterward.

...Is Ambrose...? That could potentially explain a lot and also raise further questions.

Tev still has approximately no idea what he's doing, but he's starting to figure it out. And in the meantime he doesn't have a whole lot of trouble holding off ten darkspawn singlehandedly while everyone else engages them in smaller groups.

It's over pretty quickly.

"To answer your earlier question," says Ambrose, turning to Jago, "firstly, combat of mage against mage is less straightforward than it might seem, and it can be better to approach a mage with an experienced warrior than an inexperienced mage; secondly, before Duncan found me I was in training to be a templar. I prefer the Wardens, but as I just demonstrated, the skills I learned with the templars have their uses."

"That explains how you knew so much about mages, back at the Circle." He can't quite think of a polite way to say, "but if you were a Templar, why do you give a damn about us."

He nods. "Yes."

"So why do you prefer the Wardens?" wonders Tev, cleaning his enormous sword.

"Darkspawn are a real and important problem to which the Wardens are, as far as I can tell, the best solution available. Demons and blood mages are also a real and important problem, but the Circles and the Templars are, if not quite the worst solution I can imagine, at least uncomfortably close to it."

"One of the greatest reasons I have to regret leaving the Circle is that I was good at shielding the apprentices from the attention of the Templars' and those senior mages sympathetic to them."

Ambrose nods sympathetically.

"I'm sorry to hear it. The alienage didn't have that problem, but--I helped deal with troublemakers back home, both internal and external. I trust the people I left behind to take care of it, though. If you don't have that--it's sad."

Nod.

"Warden Ambrose," says Shiral, "are there any living darkspawn nearby?"

"Not that I can tell, although with this many dead it can be hard to say for sure. Why?"

"We are being followed."

"Well, if it's darkspawn, presumably it lacks the subtlety to not just charge in and attack us."

"Unless it is a spy personally sent by the Archdemon."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," says Ambrose. "Some people who aren't darkspawn do live in these woods."

"And they're not dead?"

"Not all of them."

"If someone who lives in the Wilds is following us, should we be talking to them about evacuation?"

"If someone who lives in the Wilds is following us, I think we can assume they have noticed the darkspawn," says Ambrose. "But yes, if any such person shows themselves, I might suggest that they leave, temporarily if not permanently."

"Okay."

"Shiral, can you tell anything else about our observer?"

"Likely to be human. Or a tall elf or a short qunari."

Daveth fails at not glancing at Tev when she says "a tall elf."

"No, not that tall," says Shiral.

Acara gives Tev a pat on the arm of "don't worry, I still think of you as shorter than me," and says, "So probably just a human, then."

Tev smiles down at her in appreciation for her support.

"Yes. An extremely stealthy human."

"Okay. Well, they'll show themselves or they won't."

"True enough."

They proceed toward the ruins Ambrose is looking for. Happily, there are no more darkspawn ambushes along the way.

When they get there, a human woman with Chasind decorations on her clothing is perched on the edge of a half-crumbled wall, looking down at them. She has a bow and quiver on her back, a dagger at her belt, and a wary expression on her face.

"Is she the one who was following us?" she asks Shiral.

"I think so," she says slowly. "But she should not have been able to get here so quickly."

"Warden," says the woman on the wall. "Are you here for the treaties? My mother took them away for safekeeping."

"Yes, we are," says Ambrose. "Will your mother give them to us?"

She hops off the wall and lands lightly on the moss-covered stone floor. "Yes. Our house is this way."

"She's a Witch of the Wilds," Daveth mutters with imperfect discretion.

"Are you referring to my mother, or me?"

"Don't know nothing about your mother," he says, a little embarrassed to have been caught.

"She has been called by that name more frequently than I."

This does not seem to reassure Daveth.

"If you are mages, congratulations on evading the Templars."

"Evading the Templars is not difficult in the Wilds," she says over her shoulder, striding over the uneven ground with grace and confidence.

Acara doesn't really know much about Templars but is starting to think of them as "Guards, only moreso."

"Is it something about living in forests that makes people stealthy, plain-spoken, and terrifyingly competent?" wonders Tev, watching Shiral follow effortlessly after the stranger.

"I don't think so," says Shiral.

"Are all the Dalish not like you? I'll feel less embarrassed to be representing city elves, then."

"Oh, was that a concern? Yes, I am unusual among Dalish elves."

"A minor one."

She nods.

The stranger leads them to a small charming cabin tucked into the side of a low ridge.

"Guests, Mother," she says to the cabin.

A thin old woman, grey-haired but bright-eyed, emerges. "Ah, good," she says. "I've been expecting you. I am called Flemeth, and this shy woodland creature is Clare," with a wave at her daughter(?). "Why don't you introduce yourselves?"

"I'm Acara Tabris."

"Carlos Amell."

"Jago."

"Tev Rasna."

"Uh, Daveth."

"Shiral."

"And I am Ambrose. Clare mentioned you had the old Warden treaties."

"Yes, she did," says Flemeth. "And yes, I do. Are you not going to demand them?"

"I thought I'd wait and see whether you gave them up of your own accord."

"Very polite, this one," says Flemeth. "Could stand to be more assertive."

"Could I now."

Flemeth gives a raspy chuckle. "Maybe not," she says, and she goes into her little cabin and retrieves a wooden case, which she hands to Ambrose.

"Clare will guide you back to your camp. Don't tarry, now; I'm sure you have important things to do."

"Thank you."

If Clare objects to being volunteered for guide duty, she doesn't show it.

Clare seems to be pretty good at leading them in directions that don't involve murdering more darkspawn, which may be part of how she isn't dead yet with darkspawn all over the Wilds.

Clare is indeed very good at that thing. They don't encounter a single darkspawn the entire way back.

Acara makes a mental note that it's probably either a good or bad sign that she's slightly disappointed by this and isn't sure which.

Duncan is waiting for them when they get back to camp.

"We were successful in all respects," says Ambrose, handing over the box. "How long will it take to prepare for the Joining?"

"A day," Duncan says. "You're free to move around camp in the interim, but please return promptly after twenty-four hours."

Ambrose nods.

"I think I'll have dinner. Anyone else who's hungry is welcome to join me."

Acara glances at Tev. "Well, I could use some food, but I think considering the amount of darkspawn blood I have on me it would be wise to wash first, if that's possible, or at least change into something less spattered."

"Given the purpose of this camp, it would surprise me very much if there were nowhere to clean armor, at the very least. I'll join you," he tells Ambrose. "I managed not to get any blood on me."

"Yes, there is, it's—"

"This way," says Shiral, turning in the correct direction.

"Excellent, thank you." Shiral's competence continues to be bizarrely impressive.

And Acara has her armor cleaned and doesn't immediately re-don it since she's not immediately going out into the wilds and performs a couple of minor errands and goes to find Elissa.

"Acara! Been learning how to kill darkspawn?"

"Yes! And also that if I approach strange shemlen like the quartermaster in plainclothes they will mistake me for a servant."

"I wish I were surprised. Meanwhile, I've been learning that my brother arrived here three days ago and immediately got himself lost in the woods with his entire complement of Cousland troops, which is not normal behaviour for my brother."

"I'm sorry to hear that. What do you think happened?"

"Not sure yet. But the possibilities are more worrying than otherwise."

"Thank you for telling me. I should probably see if Ambrose and the others are still eating, or if I need to find food on my own."

"Enjoy. I hear the food's all right."

"Here's hoping." She goes to see if Ambrose and the others are still eating.

They are!

Especially Tev!

In retrospect this is unsurprising! She will join them and acquire food.

"Hey."

Nom nom.

"Hey. You probably won't have this problem but the quartermaster mistook me for a servant when I showed up in plainclothes inquiring about armor care, it was irksome."

"I can imagine."

"Elves are less populous than humans, but have more mages per capita. Having few enough elves who aren't servants around that that kind of mistake is plausible feels--very strange."

"Being surrounded by shemlen is surreal, but less so than it was when we had just left the alienage."

"And there's pretty much nothing about my life that's not surreal lately," says Tev cheerfully.

"Don't worry, Tev, I promise that no matter how big you get I won't forget what you looked like tiny and covered in bruises from picking a fight with someone twice your size. Again."

"Thanks, Acara, I appreciate that."

"Perhaps you can re-create the experience if we meet any Qunari."

"I actually think I could probably beat up a qunari," he says contemplatively. "Have I mentioned my life is surreal?"

"You have."

"Well, it is."

"I think all of our lives got more surreal around the time when we were recruited."

"I don't doubt it."

"I'm going to look around some more," Acara says when she's finished eating. "Maybe tell off some more shemlen who think because I'm an elf I must be a servant."

"Have fun," says Tev, who is still eating.

"Not much fear of that," she snorts.

She wanders around for a while. Maybe it's the look on her face, but no one actively accosts her as a servant.

Eventually she wanders by a kennel.

"Hmmm," she hears the kennel master say. "This isn't good. I'd hate to waste such a promising member of the breed." He turns around and looks at her. "Are you one of the new Wardens? I could use some help."

"What's the problem?" she asks. He identified her as a Warden and not a servant, which buys him at least a few minutes of civility.

"This is a mabari. Smart breed, and strong." Oh lovely, he thinks because she's an elf she doesn't know what a mabari is. "His owner died in the last battle, and the poor hound swallowed darkspawn blood. I have medicine that might help, but I need him muzzled first."

"And you need help with that because...?"

"Mabari are smart. He's already wise to my tricks."

"Alright." The poor dog didn't deserve her scorn.

"Go in the pen and let him smell you," the kennel master says. "We'll know right away if he'll respond. Let's hope this works. I would really hate to have to put him down."

Acara steps into the pen. She holds out a hand to let the dog smell. He relaxes gradually from his aggressive stance. She winces when she sees how badly off he is, and is suddenly glad she agreed to help. The dog growls weakly, but doesn't put up a fight. She slips the muzzle on and he whimpers plaintively. She exits the pen, looking back at the poor creature as she does.

"Well done," the kennel master says tiredly. "Now I can treat him properly. Poor fellow. I don't suppose you're heading into the Wilds anytime soon?"

"I hadn't been planning to go back," she says, "but plans can change."

"There's a particular flower that grows in the swamps, here. With it, I might be able to improve his chances. It's very distinctive; white with a blood-red center."

"I might be familiar with that flower," she says.

"Good. In the meantime, I'll be treating our poor friend." Acara nods, and heads back to the area where the other recruits were eating.

Most of them have finished eating. Carlos is loitering a ways from the campfire, looking vaguely maudlin.

"You," she tells him, "you're coming with me."

"Pardon?"

"You're feeling sorry for yourself. It's understandable; you just lost your home and your loved ones, and you apparently can't trust the people you left behind to completely pick up your slack in looking after themselves. That's awful. But you're a Grey Warden now, and you'll be a poorer one if you practice being sad instead of getting things done. So you're my backup as I go back into the Wilds to look for an herb to hopefully save the life of a sick Mabari."

"...Well. When you put it that way."

"So it's settled. Let's go."

"Lead on, m'lady."

"I'm nobody's lady." But she leads on, all the same.

"So, if you're so sad to leave home, why did you join the Grey Wardens?"

"Best of a bad set of options."

"Is anyone using your story for blackmail material?"

"No. I...there was another mage, an apprentice. His name was Corbin. We were...he was my brother, in all but name. The Templars thought he had been doing blood magic. I found this out as they were confronting him. I should have gotten Ambrose then, but I panicked. I let him get away, and the Templars were. Not happy. One of the other apprentices got Ambrose, like I ought to have, and he offered me the chance to join the Grey Wardens instead of whatever punishment the Templars devised, most likely Tranquility."

"What's Tranquility?"

"Tranquility is when a mage is cut off from the Fade. It means no more magic, no more dreams...no more emotions. The Tranquil can also work with lyrium completely safely, which means they can enchant. The vast majority of the Circle's income comes from the enchantments of the Tranquil."

"That's horrifying."

"Yes, it is. I did my best to shield the most at-risk from the Templars, but..."

"And with you gone--I'm so sorry."

"At least Corbin got away. I'll probably never see him again, but--he got away."

"That's not nothing. I--have this one cousin. Her name is Shianni. She was--in danger--during the incident Elissa's blackmailing someone over. I did what I did, that joining the Grey Wardens was a better alternative than staying behind--not just for her. But she was entirely sufficient."

"I'm sure she must be proud to be your cousin."

"She's pretty tough too. I know she'll take good care of everyone else back home, her and our other cousin Soris and my dad."

"Your family sounds remarkable."

"It is."

And--aha--there's the flower. She cuts it, carefully, as she did in the Brecilian Forest. She looks around and finds a few more blossoms and harvests those as well, just in case.

"Lucky thing we haven't run across any darkspawn so far."

"I'm sure we could take 'em."

"There are only two of us. If there were more than we could handle..."

"Well, a fighting retreat is a thing. And your protection spells are pretty good."

"True."

They do, in fact, run into some darkspawn on the way back. Not too many to handle.

And Acara delivers the flowers to the kennel master, who is optimistic that in a day or two the dog will be much improved.

"Well done," says Shiral, who wasn't standing there a minute ago.

Acara is not Shiral-hypercompetent but she is competent at not reacting to being startled! That is a thing she can do. If Shiral notices that she startled her that's because she's Shiral, not because Acara gave signs that a reasonable person could interpret.

"Thank you."

"I think you will make a good Grey Warden."

"I think so too. And you definitely will."

"Yes. Well, if I live."

"Hm?"

"People sometimes die becoming Grey Wardens. I was going to die anyway so it's all the same to me."

"I don't think Duncan mentioned that in my hearing."

"Oh. He didn't directly tell me either. Ambrose made a reference to it earlier; I think he told the mages and assumed that Duncan had told us."

"Oh. Well. I hope neither of us dies. ...I hope none of us die, but."

"I don't know how many to expect."

"Well, we could ask."

"True."

She will go look for Warden Ambrose.

Here is Warden Ambrose! He is doing maintenance on his armour.

"What are the odds of dying in the Joining?"

"One in six."

So probably at least one of them was going to die. "Thank you."

He nods.

"It's getting late. Where do Grey Warden recruits sleep?"

"In the Warden tents. There's plenty of room."

"Okay. Thank you."

She wanders around a bit more, gets thoroughly creeped out by a Tranquil, and goes to bed.

Ambrose is the first one awake in the morning, and therefore the first one to acquire breakfast. In anticipation of Tev, he makes sure breakfast is plentiful.

Tev appreciates this so much!

Acara--really hopes they're going to have to keep having large amounts of food handy.

"Be careful if you go anywhere near the mages' enclosure," she says to Tev. "They've got someone around who's something called Tranquil and it's extremely unnerving."

"Unnerving like how?"

"According to Carlos Tranquil have no emotions and the evidence backs it up."

"...That's pretty unnerving."

"And the economic setup of the Circle apparently incentivizes Templars to Tranquilize people."

"That's one of the things I meant when I said it was almost the worst imaginable solution."

"Yes, I see what you mean. I thought you just meant the ripping children from their parents' arms thing, but no, it turned out to be even more awful."

"Yes."

"I'm guessing it's not reversible."

"As far as I know, it isn't."

"How far does a Grey Warden's neutrality extend?"

"In what sense?"

"If a Grey Warden tried to do something about the Templars after the Blight was over, would they get in trouble with the Wardens over it?"

"Yes, almost certainly. The Warden's mandate is to do whatever it takes to save the world from darkspawn, and stay out of politics because we can't afford to fight another war alongside our first."

"Ugh."

"I agree."

"Why is that the rule when there's not a Blight on?"

"Because we never know where the next Blight is going to start until it does, so we can't afford to have any nation close their borders to us, or to lose the trust of the Chantry or the Dalish. We have to be welcome everywhere because we might be needed anywhere."

"Ugh.

At least Elissa's not a Warden, I guess."

"Yes. She is entirely free to pursue whatever political goals she might like."

"And she's, you know, a Teyrna, so."

"Yes. Although not fully secure in her title, last I heard."

Shrug. "For now."

"Yes. I wish her the best of luck."

"King Cailan, whatever other traits he might have, believed her. I'm not sure it's plausible that we survive the battle but she loses her teyrnr."

"Well, I'm not quite optimistic enough to expect it will all work out perfectly."

Shrug. "What I know about shem politics could be written on one of the studs on my armor."

"Understandable."

"I don't suppose mail gets delivered from here."

"I wouldn't depend on it."

"If I write a letter to my family and die in the Joining, will you try to hold onto it and mail it later?"

"Yes, of course."

"Okay." She goes to write a letter.

Ambrose continues presiding over breakfast until everyone has had some. Or, in Tev's case, had a lot.

Yeah that's a Thing now. Eventually Acara finishes her letter and gives it to Ambrose.

He files it carefully among his personal effects.

And Acara finds herself at a bit of a loss. There isn't really anything in particular she needs to do before the Joining, and wandering around camp looking for useful things to do would be--not a good idea, in an environment where people are likely to mistake her for a servant anyway. Helping with the mabari was fine because the kennel master specifically identified her as a Warden recruit, but going looking would be. Not good.

Oh, look, there's Carlos looking like a kicked puppy again. Maybe she can make him not look like a kicked puppy, that would be good.

"Hello," Carlos says as she approaches. He looks slightly less like a kicked puppy when he sees her! This is presumably a good sign!

"Hello," Acara says. "I'm going to sit with you until you stop being depressed."

...That startles a laugh out of him. "I hate to say it, but you may be here a while, then."

"That's alright. You're not bad for a shem, Tev's still eating, Elissa's probably busy with some politics, and Shiral is--Shiral."

"Elissa doesn't count as a shem?"

"It took me a while to stop being startled her ears were round."

"What did she do, to leave such a favorable impression?"

"That's actually part of the blackmail story."

"The more I hear about this story the more curious I become."

"Maybe someday I'll tell you, when I'm sure it won't obviate its use as blackmail material."

"I'd like that. Someday."

The two of them are able to while away the time before lunch exchanging non-blackmail-related anecdotes of the alienage and the Circle.

Elissa joins the recruits for lunch.

"Still no sign of my brother, so I've been passing the time talking strategy with Loghain and Cailan," she says. "I think Loghain appreciates the support."

"Because the king is a ninny who never grew out of his bedtime stories?"

"The king... is the sort of person that armies will follow into battle with pride and courage," she says. "And that's a valuable thing to have, especially now. And he has the rest of us to make sure that he leads them well."

"Ah, so he's a charismatic ninny."

"Honestly, he's smarter than he looks. And he listens to good advice, which is practically a miracle."

"Alright, that's not so bad," Acara concedes.

"And he has some good ideas of his own. It's Cailan who wants to bring in reinforcements from outside the country; Loghain is resistant to the idea because he remembers the war with Orlais a little too clearly to be comfortable fighting beside foreigners even if they're Wardens."

"Foolish of him."

"It's a very understandable kind of foolishness."

"There is a Blight on and I am a Grey Warden recruit. I don't think I'm required to have patience for otherwise-reasonable things that are obstructing fighting darkspawn."

"You aren't," she agrees. "I'm being very understanding about everything because I'm more effective that way."

"Whatever works. I'd be more skeptical if we had met differently."

She smiles.

"Best of luck preventing Teyrn Loghain from getting us all killed."

"Thank you!"

"Oh, and it turns out the Joining has a one in six fatality rate, so if I don't come back tonight that's why."

"...Good to know."

"Ambrose seems to be better at telling people things than Duncan."

"I like Ambrose."

"He's okay."

"He takes his responsibilities very seriously, and that's a quality I appreciate."

"He does. And it is a positive trait. And I've learned all kinds of new things about the ways people are horrible, partly because of him. ...Not because he did them."