Dragon Age: The Ferelden Chronicles

Chapter Nine

"Hail! You must be the Grey Warden recruit that Duncan brought."

Varia blinked in surprise at the guard who addressed her once she reached the far side of the long bridge stretching between the various parts of the ruins. Apparently, everyone there already knew who she was. At the very least, it seemed they all knew her purpose for being there. Of course, she should have expected that. The king had known of her, and he didn't really seem the type to keep his mouth shut about a new Grey Warden who would soon be joining them. She simply hoped that Cailan hadn't regaled everyone at the camp with the stories about her past that he seemed to have been privy to.

"Greetings," she said to the guard as she stepped up to him, smiling a bit nervously.

"This place hasn't seen such bustle in centuries, I'd wager," the guard told her, hooking a thumb over his shoulder toward the area behind him. Varia peered around him and saw dozens of people milling about - including soldiers, members of the king's guard, and some intimidating-looking men with their faces painted in a strange sort of fashion. There were even a few mages there, giving wide berth to a platform where a young Chantry sister was preaching to a small group of soldiers. What caught her eye the most, however, were two very large and colorful tents erected near the central bonfire. She assumed those were the ones which housed the king and General Loghain.

"Need a hand getting anywhere?" the guard asked her, and she wondered for a moment at his kindness. From her personal experience, she knew that humans didn't seem to like elves very much. The only other elven mage she met the entire time she lived at the tower had told her about his time growing up in Denerim's alienage, and he had painted a picture of cruelty and abuse which seemed even worse than what the mages had to put up with from the templars, at times. At first, she thought perhaps it was simply due to the king's respect for the Grey Wardens - after all, he had probably informed all the soldiers present at the camp that he expected them to behave in an honorable, respectful manner toward the Wardens. It wasn't until she caught his eyes darting toward her legs that she realized the reason he was being so kind to her was likely because he wanted to get into her pants.

Thank you, Anders, for encouraging other men to lust after me with your fashion choices, she thought, rolling her eyes with a sigh before clearing her throat to bring the guard's attention back to her face.

"I'm looking for a Grey Warden named Alistair," she told him, her tone businesslike.

"Try heading north," the guard suggested, pointing in the direction he had seen the man go. "I think he was sent with a message to the mages."

Varia thanked him and stepped around him to continue on her way, but found herself running into a tall man in a full set of shining silver armor.

"Pardon me," she quickly apologized, bowing to the man.

"There's no need to apologize," the man assured her, chuckling a bit. "It was my fault, really. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going, rather than focusing on these plans."

She looked up and found an older man with dark hair and icy eyes standing over her, grasping some sort of half-rolled parchment in his gauntleted hands. She studied him carefully for a moment, his face seeming somehow familiar, then gasped softly when she realized just who she had run into.