(M) Age of the Dragon Lords, CH 1: The Door of Night IC.

[Dnafein]

Griffin took a swig from his mug of dwarven ale, listening to Zadkiel as the flavors of the cheese mingled with that of the drink. With a swallow the qunari prepared his rebuttal, however the other Warden moved off. Grif shook his head at his brooding friend and turned his nose back to his book, and the adventures of the Herald of Andraste enclosed within its pages.

His attention, like that of everyone the hall, was snatched by the creak of a specific door opening. Had anyone managed a studying look of the Tal-Vashoth they may have noticed the intensity of his eyes sharpening as he studied the leaders. Grif recalled upon his days as a fur trader to gain hints of the final decision.

That the elf lead the departure from the room hinted that Grif might not be the only one with doubts of her sincerity; And that she did not wait for him to join her, and Raziel didn't rush ahead to do so, told the qunari that neither party was fully happy with the final agreement. Leaurnas smile however told Grif what he needed to know.

The big warden was already in the process of volunteering when the request was made. His eyes took in the other volunteers, noting the unsurprising number among the Legionnaires. As he was listed as those who would be departing Grif retook his chair. Part of his mind was going over what he might need and dismissing much on the list. At the Commander’s joke the horned man lifted a chunk of cheese in salute, before popping it into his mouth. At the dismissal Griffin stayed seated, finishing a few more pages before heading to his quarters and preparing for the voyage.

***The next day in Fereldan***

Grif stood patiently through the speech, his private habit of turning over each sentence searching for secrets didn't prevent him from nodding and cheering where appropriate. Once the boarding was to begin the oxman found himself surrounded by a group of locals. The big warden was big smiles as he received presents for the trip.

Recipes from the millers widow, who had no one else to give them to. A small keg of the homebrewed ale a local dwarven trader made. The local taverns famous cheese, and of course a basket of cookies and pastries from the bakery. Each gift was pleasantly accepted and received the proper promises in return. The most common of them was that as soon as he returned Griffin would pay them a visit.

Separating himself from some of the best cooks he’d ever known Grif made his way toward the ship. He stopped briefly besides the Warden-Commander as the elder watched Zadkiel board. “I’ll do what I can to keep him from too much trouble. No promises though.” The qunari muttered before handing a cheese knife to Raziel. “If we come back alive you better still have this. It’ll be lucky, and thus I’ll have a favorite.”

With a wink to the commander and a wave to those still gathered on the docks Grif disappeared onto the ship. Immediately heading below to locate quarters he could be semi-comfortable in.

Arawn zoned out the nearby conversations and closed his eyes. The dwarf quietly napped until the room fell dead silent. His eyes zeroed in on the Warden Commander. As soon as the human asked for volunteers Arawn was on his feet. “Aye.” The dwarf loudly stated, among several of his brother legionaries. The legionary retired after the general dismissal.

***The next day in Fereldan***

Arawn woke before dawn, not that dawn mattered to a subterranean race. The legionary was woken by a comrade and sent to join a group meeting with the detachment leader. The Legion of the Dead was assigned to the deep roads under Vigil’s Keep to assist the wardens in maintaining the security of the fortress and to offer aid to those who answer the Calling amd start the Long Walk.

The legion commander waited until the twelve dwarves he’d selected arrived before he spoke. “Some of you volunteered and others were selected because you weren't able to volunteer. You are to follow the warden’s orders until you find an entrance to the deep roads.”

The dwarf motioned to eight of the twelve, they were dressed in light armor and looked rugged “You will enter the deep roads and locate the path towards Orzammar; I’ve sent word to Orzammar, the rest of the Legion should be searching for the path on this side. Should you find make use of the lyrium explosives and seal it.”

“You four stay with the Wardens.” The old dwarf said turning to Arawn and the other three. “Ensure they get their job done. If we can't find the path then killing the Archdemon will have to do.”

“Grab your gear and go kill as many of the bastards as you can.” The dwarf said dismissing the twelve with a wave. Arawn returned to his room and claimed his Maul and pack and headed to the docks and then the ship.

[Honey]

✧ 𝓛𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓪 The Great Hall, Vigil’s Keep

Fewer volunteered then she would have thought. Lavinia didn’t understand it, the calling was in their blood, it was truly this or die going slowly mad and useless. An end most unbefitting a warden, though she supposed some did need to stay home, should their efforts prove fruitless and the enemy see fit to rise once more. She was not going to sit around and wait for that to happen, no she would see it didn’t or meet her end in battle.

She remained in place till most had filed from the room, only then rising to attend her own affairs. It didn’t take her long, sending word to the blacksmith about some final armor adjustments in the morning and to the stock house about the supplies and herbs she’d be taking. Then to her room to gather her possessions. There wasn’t much in the way of personal effects, in fact if it weren’t for the armor spread carefully over the bed one might not even think the room inhabited.

~~The Next Morning, The Docks

Lavinia stood stoically through the Commander’s speech, only breaking her silence to rally the Warden creed and return her salute. As the small ceremony drew to a close families and friends rushed forward to say their farewells, even the legionnaires received a parting word from their commander. Now she moved forward towards the boats intent on boarding, a wail and a pair of slender arms halted her progress. Crealie and the blacksmith had come to wish the witch off.

“This is a task for the Wardens and you were not made to fight, little sister. You are small and delicate, meant to tend and heal, not battle and kill.” Lavinia’s voice was soft and persuasive as she tried to disentangle herself from the sobbing elvish woman.

“That’s just why you’ll need MMEEEe!” Crealie’s voice rose to a wail as Lavinia managed to pass her off to the smith. The two had had their words earlier in the forge, now he simply nodded and held back their small friend. The brunette pressed a hard kiss to the redhead’s forehead and scooping up her bag followed the others onto the ship. She never expected the small pang of sadness at the coming departure.

𝐼𝓃 𝒫𝑒𝒶𝒸𝑒, 𝒱𝒾𝑔𝒾𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒. 𝐼𝓃 𝒲𝒶𝓇, 𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎. 𝐼𝓃 𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽, 𝒮𝒶𝒸𝓇𝒾𝒻𝒾𝒸𝑒.

❇ 𝕰𝖓𝖔𝖗𝖆 𝕯𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖎 The Dock, Grey Haven

Nimble fingers danced through golden locks, weaving them into a tight braid as Enora worked to pass the time. She’d risen early and already eaten her breakfast, egger to make the journey, despite the late night with Damina. It had been refreshing to spend time with a female not interested in marriage and babies. To be able to swap battle stories and ply her trade with someone like herself. Don’t get her wrong, the men in her company were great, but most everything ended in competition. The time with Damina had been the budding of a different type of comradery, one she regretted not initiating sooner, and hoped to further.

But only the return of the elves could determine that. Her bags were packed, Damina’s gift of furs folded neatly within them, as she was clad once more in her own clothing, dawned in full armor for the arrival. If they had achieved their objective she was ready for orders. If they hadn’t, she would head for the frontlines to rejoin her men and defend them till the end.

Her musings were interrupted as Jagmar trumpeted the sighting of the ships. It’d be a time yet still till they arrived but hope stirred inside the young woman. Enora tied off the long weave of hair, and decided if this had all been for not, she would invite Damina to join her. She knew there were few Northman left and it would be nice to have another woman in the company.

𝔊𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔯 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞𝔦𝔡. 𝔄𝔫𝔡 ℜ𝔬𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔯. 𝔐𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 ℜ𝔬𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔪.

[SikstaSlathalin]

*Zadkiel, bow of the lead ship, Endor*

Two weeks was a long time to be stuck on a ship. He'd been out to see a few times, but only to relatively nearby like the Free Marches, or Nevarra, the furthest he's gone was Rivian for a party the Wardens were invited to. A longish trip, but he slept most of the way so it didn't seem like that long, but he's barely slept since leaving Ferelden. He was as nervous as he was excited, the excitement of discovering a new place raged through his mind with the worry of dying so far from his homeland or meeting and failing to defeat whatever new breed of Darkspawn will greet them in Endor.

His dog was oblivious to all his master's worry, simply hanging his head out between the bars in the railing catching sea spray and the occasional fish in his great open maw. Barqspawn was having the time of his life pay no mind to sailing off to almost certain doom. Sometimes Zad wished he knew the level of serenity and peace animals like Marbari seem to have. Death is an everyday possibility to them, so why bother worrying about it? Just eat when you can, poop when you need to, and sleep the worries of the day away. Barq had just caught a fish that was supposed to be a meal for a seabird, an albatross by the looks of it. And the big bird wasn't going to let this meal go it was a nice fat fish!

It landed on the deck besides Zad and his dog and began posturing spreading it's wings out and squawking intimidatingly. The Champion let out a deep belly laugh and moved back as Barq saw this new playmate as finally someone his own size to wrestle with! He quickly ate the fish and mock charged the bird.

*Jagmar, Grey Haven Docks, Endor*

The male Dwarf had finished his sandwich tossing the last bits of bacon at Sorbel who expertly snatched them from midair. He chuckled fondly watching the large black bird fight with a particularly big piece of bacon dropping it onto the table and leaning in real close trying to figure out how to make the tasty morsel smaller.

Crow's are very intelligent animals, smarter than most sentient beings he's met. Sorbel would figure it out without Jagmar helping him. Besides when he felt the bench he was sitting at bounce and heard Banai's speak he had other things to deal with. Turning to the Dwarfette he shrugged. "A wee bit, but nothing I can't handle lass. More my pride that took a hit than my eye, I've never gotten that drink before especially not on pishwater human drink. And I've never fallen asleep unwelcome in a lady's bed before. Hope I didn't scare ye too much?" He asked looking at her with his bruised eye trying to study her.

*Damina, Grey Haven Docks, Endor*

The Wilderwoman's breakfast was done and the ships were no closer to reaching them. She hated being idle for so long, carving little toys and practicing with her weapons can only take up so much time. And most of it would just be a waste of energy, and they'd need as much energy as they could muster in case they found themselves in an ambush situation which was a favorite tactic of The Wrong. And with their scary ability to come up out of the very ground anywhere, it takes a strong will to not become a wreck over it, but you must always be prepared.

For now though the Northwoman was just bored, she glanced over at the Dwarves, it seems Banai was still upset over slugging Jagmar. Damina didn't ask for the whole story, but from what she did gather the two got drink last night and wound up sleeping in the same bed. Not sleeping together, but passed out in the actual same bed. It must've been quite the amusing sight to see Banai wake up and punch the man in the eye.

Such things were another curiosity for the wild girl. Her father was killed before she could be married off to the son of another Northman Tribe's Chief, so she has never really known a man. Was punching them in the eye the norm when you find them in your bed or did Banai overreact? Among her people such a situation wasn't uncommon even if the woman already belonged to a man, the people involved just had to deal with it if a child was conceived. Which luckily wasn't common, illegitimate children are taboo in any culture as far as Damina knew. But the Northmen weren't exactly traditional by the standards of mankind. She would need an outside opinion, and despite Enora being a couple of years younger than her surely she'd had an opinion on it. Picking up her wedge and varmbrace she approached Enora and smiled. "ello lassie, sae do ye know what 'appened 'atixt our stout companions?" She sat down across from the shieldmaiden and tilted her head back towards the Dwarves.

[bluemoon]

Banai scoffed at Jagmar's question, her eyebrows lifting at his appraising stare. "Wasn't scared...just surprised is all." She turned her face away, looking once again to the ships in the distance and wondering just how many ladies' beds he had slept in. And wondering why she cared. She leaned back on the bench, putting her legs out in front of her and pushed him from her thoughts. It wasn't as if she was going to have another chance to get him drunk...and actually sociable...and in her bed. She laughed to herself...shaking her head...realizing she was thinking about him again.

She let her mind wander as she waited, looking out to sea. She had come fully outfitted for any eventuality this morning--her sword and spear at her side and her shield by her feet. She let her thumb play over the rune etched into the shield's interior--something so small and yet it had saved her life at least on one occasion. It was actually quite by accident that she discovered it, falling victim to a assassin's death potion intended for a cheating lover. It was just by chance that Banai had been sitting at his table playing a hand of cards when the tainted wine had been served. Three of them had drank from the decanter...and two had fallen into a fit of seizures, bloody froth coating their mouths as they died. Banai's shield had been resting between her knees under the table, its protective aura negating the effects of the poison. It would be some time before she would understand the mark's significance, but she knew that magic had saved her life that night.

The shield's polished surface was marred with scars now, having served her well in battle. Her life at present was fighting the Wrong, but she longed for her old life--a simple one with simple pleasures. Thieving. She wondered what Jagmar would think of her occupation. As a hunter he lived an honest life...hers a little more un-honest. She sighed and closed her eyes. "Wake me when they arrive," she said, knowing her life was safe with him by her side as she slept.

[Dnafein]

Arawn spent the journey with his fellow dwarves in the belly of the ship. As a group the dozen groaned to the rocking of the ship. It was an unnatural feeling to them. The majority of which wouldn't go near the main deck. The sight of so much open sky was frightening to many of the Legionaries. Arawn however was unbothered by that sight.

What scared him more then any darkspawn he had ever faced wasn't the unending sky, but the total lack of any discernible land. Nothing but water as far as the eye could see, even the sunrise and sunset were unimpeded by some distant shore line. It was a world without stone, and that was a world no dwarf belonged in. So they hid from it and waited for that most beautiful of words. Land.

Where Zad struggled to sleep on the voyage, Grif slept like a babe. He seemed as comfortable scaling the rigging as he ever looked climbing a tree. And once again it was because this voyage reached back to that time he rarely thought about. The time before he was Griffin.

He spent the first portion of the journey comparing the elven vessel to those he still remembered of his people. While the vessel was smaller and lacking any real armaments Grif was confident they could if nothing else outrun a dreadnought; In fact the oxman gave the ship a fifty fifty shot at winning against the massive warship of his people. Mostly because of the accuracy of the elven bows.

When he had finally grown tired of his study of the ship Grif split his time between sleep and the lookout. It was where he was now, studying the land they were slowly but steadily approaching. The warden wondered a great many things about the place before him. And through it all he felt a hum of excitement.

[Honey]

✧ 𝓛𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓪 Stern, Endorian Ship

She’d once lived inside a rotting log for twenty-seven days as a child, survived on the moisture squeezed from moss and what mushrooms and berries she could find in darkness. Once lay dying in a gutter from a septic wound as people walked right passed like she wasn't even there, barely managing to crawl to the forest to find what she needed. Once been hunted by the very people she now protected. And yet Lavinia was sure she’d ever been in a hell worse then she was right now. But oh, how she wished. Wished to not wake up with her head spinning and stomach rolling. Wished every muscle in her body didn’t ache from tension and malnourishment. Wished for solid land.

The brunette darted forward and once more hurled the contents of her stomach into the sea. A tall Endorian elf followed her to the rail, waiting till she’d emptied her system before pressing a cup into her hands. As she drank it down he told her of the recipe he’d used to go about making the remedy. A game of sorts they had developed after Lavinia’s third morning spent arched over the side of the vessel. The potent herbs coupled with the mental distraction of remembering new potions helped ease her seasickness.

They spoke of other things… While he spoke mostly. Though occasionally he managed to cajole a response from her on subjects of magic. Lavinia had learned magic was not harnessed the same in Endor. It seemed they had no real understanding or perhaps even access to the fade. Concerned about how her own powers would suffice, she often lit the weapons of those who walked past what had become her permanent perch at the stern rail.

Many avoided the space, a sentiment the witch was used too. But the elf returned every morning with his potions, more amused then afraid of her antics. “You do it on purpose don’t you?”

His words were a murmur as she sent one of his brethren running back to his post and for the first time in two weeks Lavinia looked up from the water, one brow arching as a small smile danced at her chapped lips. Then she twisted back and vomited up his potion. Eased for only a short time it seemed.

𝐼𝓃 𝒫𝑒𝒶𝒸𝑒, 𝒱𝒾𝑔𝒾𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒. 𝐼𝓃 𝒲𝒶𝓇, 𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎. 𝐼𝓃 𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽, 𝒮𝒶𝒸𝓇𝒾𝒻𝒾𝒸𝑒.

❇ 𝕰𝖓𝖔𝖗𝖆 𝕯𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖎 The Dock, Grey Haven

Laughter bubbled free as Damina joined the Rohirrim and her eyes drifted over the dwarves, each time she saw Jagmar’s swollen eye beside his patch she couldn’t help herself. Though they seemed friendly enough now, perhaps having talked it over, it did appear to have simply been a case of too much drink. But Enora understood the instinct of waking up swinging. While her own company was like that of brothers, they were oft sent out to reinforce others and more often then not a man mistook the reasons for a woman on the battlefield, she’d given her own helpings of black eyes and once even a broken nose.

“I believe the problem stems from his lack of permission, rather than lack of interest. Personally, I’d not want to take the risks of such an encounter. And honestly, I’ve not met a man I fancy so. Most are either like my brothers or want me to retire my shield. But I also can’t abide by a man weaker than me, nor one who would see me as less then myself.” A blush stole across the young girl’s face as she spoke, worried Damina might find her opinions odd. After all she spent her time around men in their prime everyday, but none had ever stirred a need in her, leaving her wondering if perhaps she was lacking some part in not wanting a husband nor babe nor even a more simplistic carnal relation.

𝔊𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔯 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞𝔦𝔡. 𝔄𝔫𝔡 ℜ𝔬𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔯. 𝔐𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 ℜ𝔬𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔪.

[SikstaSlathalin]

*Few hours later*

Laurenas stood upon the bow of the lead ship waving at the small band of four warriors sent to meet and escort them. She knew each one by name and reputation. Banai Auhl skilled Dwarven thief recruited for quick hands and skills in stealth, Enora Daglari shield-maiden and proud rider of Rohan skilled with sword and shield and known for being stalwart in battle. Next Jagmar One-Eye, bounty hunter and Dwarf of impeccable professionalism, and lastly but certainly not least Damina Buck, Northman berserker from the Wilderlands, among the last of her kind and a powerful ally no matter the opposition.

She mentally checked off the Wardens she brought as well each of them highly recommended by their leader. A sword and shield warrior, an Assassin, a Mage, a dog, and a contingent of heavily armored Dwarven warriors. She was eager to see how these forces mesh and thinking about bringing them across Endor to meet the King of Gondor was an anxious worry. The man is a man of great wisdom and skill, but The Wrong have worn him down and paranoid, he may not trust this group.

The Elf sighed lightly and braced herself as the ships docked and the crew tied them up and dropped the plank. Laurenas nodded to the Wardens who were already gathered on deck with their kits a few of them still looking a little green. She let out a small laugh.
"Welcome to Endor my friends, with any luck the next time you see these ships they'll be heading home to Ferelden with this foreign Blight ended." The Elvin lady elegantly bowed to the warriors and motioned for them to be the first off the ship. "Go meet your comrades, my crew and I will work on unloading the cargo."

*The Wardens*

Zadkiel marveled at hos similar this land looked to Ferelden. He doubted it was exactly the same, but damn close to it. As Laurenas gave them a small welcome then gave the all ashore. Taking the lead the Champion took a deep breath and hitched his pack before giving a quick whistle to Barq to follow him his own dogpack tied tightly around the hound's powerful body but still bouncing lightly with the dog's movements.

The Wardens and Legionnaires followed in a neat formation behind the white-haired warrior as he marched down the docks and studied the group there to meet them. Three women and one man, two Dwarves and two Humans. He had heard the Endoran Elves saw their people were leaving Endor, but he had hoped a few of them would still be on their side to help fight. He had spoken a lot with them in Ferelden and on the ships over. They were very skilled and intelligent warriors good with bows as well as blades. Their weapons and armor were beautifully made and apparently changed colors when they sense Orcs and Goblins he wondered if they changed when confronted with Darkspawn, but none of these Elves had gotten close enough to find out.

With any luck that'd change or at least they'd be given such wonderful weapons to fight with to find out for themselves. Not that he was eager to replace his current arms and armor, but new ones are always fun to test out. It didn't look like anyone was in charge of the small group, but the Dwarf male looked to be the oldest and standing the closest to the docks so Zadkiel approached the small band nodding lightly to them all but focused on the one eyed Dwarf.
"Hello Defenders, we're the Grey Wardens of Ferelden and the Legion of the Dead. We've come to help. My name is Zadkiel Cousland Constable of the Grey. With me are my comrades, Senior Warden Lavina, Griffin Ataash, and Barqspawn." He motioned to his fellow Wardens first then to the armored Dwarves. "And from the Legion of the Dead, Arawn and his fellow experts at Darkspawn combat."




*The Defenders*

As the ships arrived Jagmar felt a fluttering in his stomach as he saw the Elves returning with what looked like a dozen strangers behind them. So they did find help, that was the first bit of good news he's heard in months. They weren't what he expected, but any help was welcomed.

The small band of defenders had chatted softly with each other as the ships drew nearer tossing ideas back and forth for what kind of help the Elves had found. His personal favorite was an army of sentient rock people who don't take damage unless a mountain it dropped onto them. Others were just as outlandish, but at this point they would expect anything.

As they docked Jagmar was surprised to see the group was mostly Dwarves. Their armor was entirely different from his people's though. He wondered just how different these grim looking warriors are from his people. He'd likely find out, them aside there was also what looked like a massive horned Orc among the group and a dog about the same size as Jagmar himself. He was eager to see how this team handled the Wrong. At their led was a white-haired warrior with very dark steady eyes and a regal bearing about him that reminded him of the Gondroan King. Did that foreign land send their actual King across sea to fight for them? This earned the Dwarf's admiration more than anything, it instilled in his mind a nation of warriors united under a single banner it sounded like a utopia to the war ravaged reality of Endor. Hoepfully this group would free their homeland like they had freed their own.

The man stopped just short of the Endorans and seemed to think Jagmar was in charge. The man had to stop himself from laughing out loud. They didn't actually elect any kind of leader among the four of them, but if it helped the new comers Jagmar would play along. He took the man's hand and was surprised to feel such a strong grip even among Dwarven standards. "Greetings Wardens and Legionaries, I am quite glad to see the Elves found help. I am Jagmar One-eye, with me are Banai Auhl, Enora Daglari of Rohan, and Damina Buck of Wilderland. We are to be your escorts and guides across Endor to the kingdom of Gondor to meet with the King of Man, King Aragorn III."

[bluemoon]

Standing a bit behind and to the right of Jagmar, Banai watched intently as the ship arrived. She kept her shoulders tight and back, her eyes scanning each of the new arrivals with curiosity...and a bit of fear. A man with silvery white hair moved forward to engage them, introducing his grey wardens, which followed in his shadow. It was obvious, even without the naming, that he was in charge, and despite her usual bravado, she involuntarily took a few steps back at their approach.

Introductions...yes...even they were unusual. The Constable of the Grey spoke of a Legion of the Dead--yet the dwarves that were indicated appeared to breathe...and what of this Darkspawn? Was that their name for the Wrong? She felt confused and overwhelmed. Each of the fighters seemed strange--a creature with gold tipped horns that stood as tall as a tree...a woman with eyes of gold and a strange presence about her...a fierce dog with silvery hair like his master...even the leader of the dead had eyes of emerald. Were these the treasured warriors of the other land--each seemed to possess something of value about them...gold...silver...emeralds? She almost feared them as much as the enemy...and yet they were here to aid. Forcing calm, she drew in a deep breath and puffed out her chest, finding that she could not take those few steps forward to close the gap she had created.

It was Jagmar's apparent ease which broke the spell and Banai was finally able to move her feet forward. Although she did not extend her hand in greeting, she did manage a nod. It would not be an easy feat to learn to trust these odd foreigners, nor to fight by their sides. But she had learned to overcome her fear when she had first left the underground of the Blue Mountains so many years ago, and she would do so again.

[Dnafein]

Arawn’s initial attention was drawn to the dwarves in the group meeting them. They seemed different to him. He couldn't quite put a name to how they were different, but Arawn sensed something. The words of the Warden Commander pulled Arawn away from his contemplations.

Turning to his fellow legionnaires Arawn picked out three of the least sick looking scouts. “Luso, Juron, Serdy run the perimeter; Report any spawn sign.” The three named dwarves separated themselves from the others from Fereldan. They each loped a different direction, the males took north and south sticking to the coast; Serdy went inland.

Arawn’s attention was drawn by Jagmar mentioning the defenders king. “Commander, perhaps we could visit where the darkspawn made their first appearance enroute?”

Grif had been studying the approaching landscape from the lookout. He’d already noted many of the similarities, though it was the differences that grabbed the oxman’s attention. The smell was among the first thing he noticed, just like when he first arrived at Vigil's Keep. Prior to moving to Fereldan, an Orlaisian once told Griffin the country smelled like wet dog. The qunari agreed when he first arrived at the keep; However it’s things like the smell that give a place its character.

And knowing a nation's character helps one to know their peoples. For the Wardens to have a future here they would need to understand the natives. Of course the best way to learn about a people is to eat their food, and that was the part Griffin was looking forward to the most.

He eavesdropped on the introductions as he turned his focus to the defenders. The humans and the cyclopian dwarf appeared to be combatants. The female dwarf however is who the giant studied the most. Unlike the others she wore no armor, and began to shrink away from the Fereldans.

Mentally running through the various possibilities while he studied the dwarven woman Grif spoke up almost as soon as Arawn finished. “We should probably take a night or two to figure out our route. The bear and a few of the dwarves won't be much good for at least a day; They’ll need energy and that means keeping food down.”

Grif slowly pulled his eyes from the unarmored defender and frowned at a pair of legionaries who swayed as if they were still standing on the boat. He’d seen this before in others after their first extended sea voyage. “Plus we should most likely restock or food supplies….” The qunari trailed of turning to Zad with a hopeful smile.

[Honey]

✧ 𝓛𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓪 Stern, Endorian Ship

In her right hand she kept a white knuckled grip on her staff, her left hefted her small pack over her shoulder. Leaving the rail, Lavinia used every ounce of what little bit of self control she possessed to disembark the ship without hurling on her comrades. She inclined her head to the Elvish leader, following Zadkiel and the other Wardens down onto the docks then finally onto land. She itched to remove her boots and sink her feet into the lush soil but settled instead to down a potion of her own creation as her stomach at last calmed. As the remedy went to work revitalizing her body, she handed out the last of them to the Legionnaires who seemed in the worst shape.

Once more she found herself inclining her head as The Constable began introductions to the dwarves and humans, at least there should be few racial conflicts among the coming days. Which meant they’d only personalities to worry about. Lavinia hoped the egos before her, and those of their King and leaders were small, or better yet non-existent. For if things were as bad as Laurena’s told they had little time to prepare and in Lavinia’s case, little patience.

“I've done without before, Qunari. I will hold. We both know you just want a try at the local delicacies." Lavinia murmured, no innuendo implied, she knew the man was truly interested in the food.

𝐼𝓃 𝒫𝑒𝒶𝒸𝑒, 𝒱𝒾𝑔𝒾𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒. 𝐼𝓃 𝒲𝒶𝓇, 𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎. 𝐼𝓃 𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽, 𝒮𝒶𝒸𝓇𝒾𝒻𝒾𝒸𝑒.

❇ 𝕰𝖓𝖔𝖗𝖆 𝕯𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖎 The Dock, Grey Haven

Excitement surged through the young woman as finally the ship bumped into the dock. Men leapt down to begin work as the fair Lady Laurena’s waved to the warriors ashore. Enora waved back, but the woman had already turned to disembark with what she hoped would be their salvation. Practically trembling in effort to stay with the others, she craned her neck back and forth trying to take everything in.

Her gaze passed over the warden’s quickly, drawn first to the marching beings in dark armor. So different they seemed, the dwarves, so sullen and dark. It hurt her heart to watch them march forward and go straight about their duties. Not a jolly look upon one of their faces, no mischievous glint in their eyes as they followed their orders. She’d never seen such a sight, even the burliest of dwarves she’d met were bursting with life, this Legion of Dead seemed so aptly named, and Enora ached for them.

Though she didn’t quite stifle her snort of amusement as the men went about introductions, she didn’t bother listening to what was said. She wasn’t sure what she’d really been anticipating, particularly after the eccentric debate they’d been having while they awaited the arrival. But this at least was normal. Humans and dwarves and elves, the automatic belief that a male would be the leader. Her second snicker was cut short as she got a better look at the others, unsure how she missed them the first time.

A silver haired man who seemed to ooze confidence and skill in such a way that demanded respect. He carried himself as her father did, a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the lives of men in his hands. At his side the largest war dog she’d ever encountered, and by far the best tended and behaved, for he even carried his own pack.

Behind them a woman with a wildness in her yellow eyes, clad in buckles, belts and rags, she looked more like something from a gutter than a warrior, lest you account for the weapon of a wizard in her hands. Perhaps that was only wishful think on the blonde’s pat and it was only a branch to club one with.

Last was the giant of a man, if one could call him that. Horned with ashen skin and a tumble of white hair around a chiseled face donning emerald eyes. He looked unlike anything or anyone she’d ever seen. The closest being that of a darker incarnation and Enora found herself most curious of what he was. Of how just a handful of men were going to turn the tides.

She realized now she’d been waiting on an army, but she’d gotten what amounted to less than her own company.

𝔊𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔯 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞𝔦𝔡. 𝔄𝔫𝔡 ℜ𝔬𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔯. 𝔐𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 ℜ𝔬𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔪.