111 réponses à ce sujet

[Jules8445]

Wowwww. This is excellent Freckles...four chapters in one day. Your awesomness is nearly blinding. I love the way you're able to characterize the...characters. >.< Can't wait for more!

[Sisimka]

Sandtigress wrote...

Yay, I was going into withdrawal. :-) I like this part about leaving the farmhouse - it helps make more sense of being able to leave Redcliffe to its fate, which seems a very non-Alistair thing to do, but something he'll also fall in line with. Also brings home the fact that most of my Grey Wardens don't act very Grey-Wardenly...but they're new to the order, so I guess that excuses them. ;-)

I've only left Redcliffe to it's fate once and I have to say I was horribly disappointed in Alistair for not chewing me out over it.  I expected much yelling when we got back to camp, but not a peep. 

I guess Duncan had the right of it and perhaps I'd play it differently next time through...

Good chapter Freckles!

[Freckles04]

Sisimka wrote...

Sandtigress wrote...

Yay, I was going into withdrawal. :-) I like this part about leaving the farmhouse - it helps make more sense of being able to leave Redcliffe to its fate, which seems a very non-Alistair thing to do, but something he'll also fall in line with. Also brings home the fact that most of my Grey Wardens don't act very Grey-Wardenly...but they're new to the order, so I guess that excuses them. ;-)

I've only left Redcliffe to it's fate once and I have to say I was horribly disappointed in Alistair for not chewing me out over it.  I expected much yelling when we got back to camp, but not a peep. 

I guess Duncan had the right of it and perhaps I'd play it differently next time through...

Good chapter Freckles!

See, I've never done that, the leaving Redcliffe to its fate thing. I might have to try it. And then reload.

And, agreed, Sandi...most of my PCs aren't very Grey Wardenly either, what with the Chanters-board questing, and what not. That's one of the reasons I think Awakening is going to be really interesting: how is the PC, who was pretty much autonomous and "do it their way whether it's the Grey Warden way or not" going to react to having other Wardens come to Ferelden? I can't help but think there would be a wee bit of a power struggle.

[Freckles04]

The Capital

Denerim…bustled.

It seemed an inadequate description, but it was the only one Alistair's stunned mind could come up with. Maker, the mass of people…he'd never seen so many gathered in one place. Sure, there had been the summer festivals at Redcliffe, epitomized by rowdiness he'd observed from afar, but even those celebrations hadn't placed so many people in one location. Beyond the city's gates was a new world, a collection of colors and textures; a conglomeration of humans, elves, even dwarves going about their mundane lives. And the noise! He'd found the silence of the Chantry horrible, but this unrelenting noise was nearly as unbearable.

His steps faltered as Duncan pressed into the crowd, but he gathered his courage and kept up with the Grey Warden before he could lose sight of the older man. Duncan wove through the people in the street with an ease borne of long practice, and Alistair wondered if the man was a native of Denerim. In fact, he knew nothing of the Grey Warden, did he? Other than his name and his place within Ferelden's order.

The crowds thinned somewhat as they approached the Palace District. Fewer people milled in the streets and they seemed more…refined. Less loud hawking of wares, for example, and the goods at the infrequent merchants' stalls seemed more expensive.

The closer they got to the palace, the tighter Alistair's stomach became. What if they saw…him? The King? He thought Cailan knew of his existence, though he wasn't sure. There had been that one visit to Redcliffe about fifteen years ago now, where Alistair had greeted his half-brother only to be dismissed in favor of the armory. But then, it wasn't likely that a teenager would have much to say to a five-year-old, would he? Certainly not any kind of deep or meaningful conversation, and an acknowledgement of Alistair as his brother would have fallen into that category. He took a deep breath and tried to push the hurt aside, but, like a festering wound, it wasn't so easy to ignore. It ached. The sense of what-if, if-only, and maybe-if-I.

What if I'd been raised here instead of Redcliffe?

If only I'd had a chance to know my brother and father.

Maybe if I'd been better…

No, that was foolishness. He didn't get a say in his life, remember? Not then, not now, and probably not ever.

He was slightly proud that he only fumbled one step as the palace came into view. He cleared his throat, unsure of how to word his request. "Uh, Duncan?"

"What is it?"

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" Alistair said, his eyes flicking from the Warden's face up to the spires of the palace. "About…about me, I mean."

Duncan's lips curved. "Do not worry, Alistair. I don't think anyone else needs to know."

Alistair blew out a relieved breath. "Oh, good." His mouth twitched. "And…thank you. For not treating me differently."

The older man inclined his head. "Come. We've much to do before the Joining this eve."

"And, let me guess: you're still not going to tell me anything about that."

Duncan's only response was a silent and somewhat sad smile.

Modifié par Freckles04, 26 février 2010 - 02:17 .

[Freckles04]

The last chapter was rather short, so here's a longer one in quick succession...

---

Bastard, Prince...Grey Warden

Alistair stood with two other recruits in the compound's courtyard, trying hard not to look as nervous as he felt. The others--both men, older than him--fared no better. In fact, one of them looked downright ill. Alistair hoped his face wasn't as green, though Duncan's somber, sad mien wasn't helping any. Whatever this Joining was, it was big. And possibly scary.

Better than the Chantry, he reminded himself. Better than being whacked by canes or having his ear pulled or being ordered to scrub pots--again--because he'd refused to back down when one of the other initiates insulted him.

Duncan shared a glance with the Orlesian Warden at his side. Riordan, his name was; dark-haired, fair-skinned, with piercingly light eyes that seemed to look directly into the core of the person he spoke to. He was the only Warden that Alistair had met, other than Duncan. It was almost as if the others were keeping their distance, for some reason. Surely there had to be more in this huge compound than just Riordan. He didn't even live here.

Riordan gave Duncan a nod and the dark-skinned man turned to the recruits, his face grave. "It was during the First Blight that the Grey Wardens were founded, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation. It was then that men first drank of darkspawn blood, and mastered their taint."

Alistair swallowed. He'd wondered why Duncan had stopped to gather vials of blood from the darkspawn they'd killed outside of Lothering. Now he knew. And wished he didn't.

"We take the taint into us so that we become immune to its effects. It is the source of our power, and our victory," Duncan continued.

"But...the taint sickens people," one of the other recruits stammered. Garth, a knight from Highever, if Alistair remembered correctly.

"The Joining is different," Riordan said. "If you survive--"

"Wait. If we survive?" Garth fell back a step, his eyes darting about wildly as if he was searching for an escape.

"Not everyone who drinks the blood will live," Duncan said, his voice low. "It is the price we pay to become what we are. But none of you would have been chosen had we not believed you had a chance to survive."

"Maker's breath." Alistair closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them, Duncan's dark gaze rested heavily on him. Better than the Chantry. Better than the Chantry. By Andraste, even dying would be better than being in the Chantry. Not that he was in any rush to rejoin the Maker...

He took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm ready."

"Aye. Let's be done with it," the third recruit, Lorne, stated.

Duncan's lips curved slightly, a ghost of a smile that was gone almost before Alistair saw it. "We speak only a few words before the Joining, but they have been said since the first. Riordan?"

When Riordan spoke, his rough, accented voice was soft, with a lilting cadence that burned the words into Alistair's soul. He dipped his head, because it seemed like the right thing to do.

"Join us, brothers and sisters," Riordan intoned. "Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice shall not be forgotten. And that, one day, we shall join you."

"Garth, step forward." Duncan held out the chalice. After a moment's hesitation, the recruit took it and sipped the vile concoction. Duncan retrieved the cup and stepped back.

Alistair held his breath, unsure of what to expect.

Garth blinked, then frowned, as if puzzled that nothing was happening. Suddenly he bent at the waist and toppled to the ground, shuddering. His mouth opened in a silent scream, and his eyes--

Oh, Maker. An unnatural white film covered his eyes. Alistair stumbled back, the core of his being protesting what he was seeing.

After a moment--a moment that seemed far longer--the convulsions stopped. His eyes closed. Riordan stepped forward and touched a finger to Garth's neck. He nodded at Duncan.

The Grey Warden leader gave no reaction except to turn to the next recruit. "Lorne, step forward."

The recruit took a deep breath and stiffened his spine before approaching Duncan. He accepted the chalice and drank without fear. Alistair hoped that when his time came, he would be able to act so definitively.

The blood affected Lorne almost instantly. Like Garth, he doubled over. His hands cradled his head as he screamed, a horrible keening wail that set the hair on Alistair's neck on end. When Lorne's eyes opened, they were white, like Garth's had been...but blood leaked from their corners. Another stream trickled from his nose. He gurgled, and more rushed from his mouth.

Riordan shook his head as Lorne fell to the ground, the blood pooling about him. Duncan looked down at the fallen recruit, and said softly, "I am sorry, Lorne."

Alistair wanted to vomit. Somehow, he managed not to, even when the recruit's body twitched a handful of times, even when the blood lapped at his boots.

"Alistair," Duncan said, holding out the chalice, "step forward."

He inhaled deeply, fortifying himself. "Better than the Chantry," he muttered. And drank.

The blood burned as it travelled down his throat, searing a path deep into his gut. He took a breath, then another--

And the real pain hit.

Fire roared through him. His blood felt like the lava that was rumored to heat Orzammar. It scorched him, everywhere, until he wanted to claw at his eyes, his skin, his brain, just to make it stop, please, Maker, let it stop.

He opened his mouth, then, and screamed until the blackness rushed up to claim him.

#

He dreamed.

It had to be a dream, because he was wearing golden plate armor, the type reserved for kings. Strange, but he wasn't uncomfortable in it. It felt...right, somehow. He walked through the corridors of Redcliffe Castle, the confidence and surety of self flowing through him as natural as wearing the armor.

Not that he'd ever be king. Arl Eamon had made it absolutely clear that Alistair was a commoner, despite his father's lineage. His mother had been only a star-struck maid, and Maric had never recognized him. Alistair's chances of taking the throne were...well, astronomical wasn't an overstatement. But this was a dream, and as far as dreams went, it wasn't bad. He might as well relax and enjoy the entertainment. Reality would intrude again soon enough.

He smiled as he walked into the main hall to see Eamon standing by the fire. The man's grey beard nearly masked his return grin, and he gave a gentle bow as Alistair approached. "Your Majesty," he said. "I hope your accommodations are to your liking?"

"I kind of miss the stables, Eamon." Alistair chuckled at the older man's startled look. "I jest, I jest. The suite is quite nice."

"And the Queen?"

Queen? I have a Queen? His heart flipped, even as the part of him that was blissfully unaware of his dream state continued the conversation with Eamon. "She's resting comfortably. Thank you again for offering us a respite from the city. The quiet of the country will no doubt do her a world of good."

"We're honored to have you here for the birth of your child, Alistair." Eamon clapped a hand on his back.

A queen. A child on the way. Oh, yes, this dream was not bad at all.

He fell into an easy rhythm of camaraderie with the man who'd raised him, smiling, laughing, looking quietly into the fire as happy memories fell over him like a favorite childhood blanket. The part of him that knew this to be a dream was startled as the maid burst into the hall, urgency in every movement; the part that lived the dream accepted her appearance like it was foretold.

"Your Majesty," she gasped, "it's time."

He glanced at Eamon, then rushed out of the hall just steps behind the maid.

They wouldn't let him into the room, so he was left to pace by the door. Murmurs filtered through it; once, a shout. Eamon held him back with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

And then it was done.

The same maid reappeared, a wide smile on her face. "Your Majesty," she said, nearly breathless with joy, "come meet your daughter."

Daughter. Maker's breath, he had a daughter. His throat closed and tears burned his eyes as he stepped past the threshold into the bedchamber. Women fussed over his wife in the bed, but he only had eyes for the small bundle thrust into his arms.

"What will you name her?" the maid asked as Alistair stared, dumbstruck, at the swaddled babe.

"I--I don't know," he admitted, pushing back a corner of the blanket to see his child's face.

Twisted, blackened flesh greeted his gaze. Dead, empty eyes. Sharpened teeth.

Darkspawn.

"No!" he screamed. His heart twisted. Broke. He shoved the thing out of his arms. It tumbled to the floor, where it wormed its way out of the swaddling clothes and crawled toward him.

A hand landed on his shoulder. He spun to face the emissary he'd killed in Lothering. Its black eyes bored into his and it leaned forward as if to deliver a secret.

"You are ours," it hissed. "We...are...one."

A wordless, guttural cry wrenched itself from Alistair's throat. He tore himself out of the dream.

It took him a few long moments of panting and near-panic to realize he wasn't in the bedchamber of his dreams. Light flickered beneath the door, revealing a small room with barely enough space for the bed and chest of drawers. He was alone. No darkspawn. No dream-wife. No would-be child.

Alone. As always.

He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to force away the memories of the dream. It had been so real. He could still feel the weight of the armor on his body, the smell of the incense used in the birthing room. A sob hitched in his chest before he regained control of himself. Just a dream. A terrible, awful, soul-shattering dream, but nothing more than that.

He pushed himself to his feet and used the tepid water in the basin next to the bed to wash away the remainder of sleep. If a couple of stray tears blended into the water...well, there was no one around to see it.

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Duncan rose from a chair facing the entrance to his room. His eyes held understanding and knowledge, but he said only, "Welcome, Alistair."

[Sisimka]

You know, I have to say that I think I prefer the vision of the archdemon we get in the game to Alistair's nightmare...

[Freckles04]

Sisimka wrote...

You know, I have to say that I think I prefer the vision of the archdemon we get in the game to Alistair's nightmare...

Yeah. Me too. Except, right now, there is no archdemon about, so I had to come up with something suitably terrible...

[Sandtigress]

Awww, what a nightmare. Freckles, I love how you capture Alistair's mental processes...I can hear him chanting "Better than the Chantry" over and over again!



And ooooo, Riordan reciting the words just before the Joining...I would love to hear that. I could listen to that man read from the dictionary and be perfectly happy.



Just a note - it would seem from the game that Alistair had been to Denerim before - he mentions that Arl Eamon's changed the dining room since he was last there (though that could have been post-Joining), and someone has said that if you step in the right place in Howe's manor, he mentions that he was brought there once and slept with the dogs as a boy. But hey, childhood memories are different than experiencing the same thing as an adult, so no big deal.

[Freckles04]

Sandtigress wrote...

Awww, what a nightmare. Freckles, I love how you capture Alistair's mental processes...I can hear him chanting "Better than the Chantry" over and over again!

And ooooo, Riordan reciting the words just before the Joining...I would love to hear that. I could listen to that man read from the dictionary and be perfectly happy.

Just a note - it would seem from the game that Alistair had been to Denerim before - he mentions that Arl Eamon's changed the dining room since he was last there (though that could have been post-Joining), and someone has said that if you step in the right place in Howe's manor, he mentions that he was brought there once and slept with the dogs as a boy. But hey, childhood memories are different than experiencing the same thing as an adult, so no big deal.

The more I've played the game, the more I've come to understand just how desperately unhappy and hopeless Alistair must have felt in the Chantry. I think one of the lines that brought it home to me was when he talks about the one Harrowing he attended, where they had to kill the apprentice, and how he didn't want to be a templar after that. But, of course, he was trapped in that life, until Duncan came along and "rescued" him.

And...Riordan...drool. Riordan speaking is almost better than Alistair speaking. Seriously.

Good points about his past expeditions to Denerim. I'll make a mention of that in an upcoming chapter about vague memories of being to Denerim as a boy. He would have been likely very young, so it would all seem new to him as an adult anyway. But good catch, thanks!

Modifié par Freckles04, 26 février 2010 - 03:56 .

[Sandtigress]

I live to serve! :-)

More childhood memories that came to mind - Alistair mentions that Arl Eamon once bought him a golem toy at the Wonders of Thedas emporium when he was a kid, and will talk about the nobles gathering in the Gnawed Noble, ending with "good times, good times" implying that he was party to that. That one might make more sense as an adult though, perhaps traveling with Duncan and being privy to some political nonsense. I'm not sure a boy would understand what was going on, or why Eamon would bring a supposed servant boy to such a thing anyways. But that's all speculation. :-P

Freckles04 wrote...

And...Riordan...drool. Riordan speaking is almost better than Alistair speaking. Seriously.

Oh yes. Riordan, Steve Valentine, and Liam Neeson. Could listen to them talk all day every day and be totally, perfectly contented. Heh, I need to go find myself a Eurorpean to date, I guess.

lol Stupid quote tags...I'll get it right eventually.

Modifié par Sandtigress, 26 février 2010 - 04:44 .

[Freckles04]

Sandtigress wrote...

More childhood memories that came to mind - Alistair mentions that Arl Eamon once bought him a golem toy at the Wonders of Thedas emporium when he was a kid....

Yes, but this could be Eamon returning from a trip, giving him the doll--sorry, figurine--and telling him where he'd gotten it. Which would explain his joy at seeing the shop, if he'd never been there before but loved that doll as much as he seems to...

[Sisimka]

He mentions being pick pocketed at the market too, but that could have happened on this trip, right?

[Sisimka]

Sandtigress wrote...

Oh yes. Riordan, Steve Valentine, and Liam Neeson. Could listen to them talk all day every day and be totally, perfectly contented. Heh, I need to go find myself a Eurorpean to date, I guess.

Liam Neeson voiced Riordan?

[Freckles04]

Sisimka wrote...

He mentions being pick pocketed at the market too, but that could have happened on this trip, right?

Heh. Just wait.

[Freckles04]

Sisimka wrote...

Sandtigress wrote...

Oh yes. Riordan, Steve Valentine, and Liam Neeson. Could listen to them talk all day every day and be totally, perfectly contented. Heh, I need to go find myself a Eurorpean to date, I guess.

Liam Neeson voiced Riordan?

No, Riordan is voiced by Stephane Cornicard.

http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0180388/

[Sandtigress]

Freckles04 wrote...

Sisimka wrote...

He mentions being pick pocketed at the market too, but that could have happened on this trip, right?

Heh. Just wait.

Haha, oh, looking forward to this.

[nos_astra]

Uh, that nightmare was ... creeeeeeeepy. Really, the bad kind of creepy.

Modifié par klarabella, 26 février 2010 - 04:49 .

[Sandtigress]

Oh, also wanted to say that I enjoyed your little comment about how Alistair hadn't met any of the other Grey Wardens yet and wondered why. Thinking about it, I could see how most Wardens would only want to meet the recruits post-Joining rather than meet anyone only to know that they died shortly after. That must be very hard on Duncan, traveling with these people for days or weeks and getting to know them to some extent, only to watch recruit after recruit die.



I wonder if this, in part, is what Riordan referred to when he said that his recruits were the "only way he ever let himself down" when you talk to him in Arl Eamon's estate. I always wondered about that line.

[Freckles04]

Sandtigress wrote...

Oh, also wanted to say that I enjoyed your little comment about how Alistair hadn't met any of the other Grey Wardens yet and wondered why. Thinking about it, I could see how most Wardens would only want to meet the recruits post-Joining rather than meet anyone only to know that they died shortly after. That must be very hard on Duncan, traveling with these people for days or weeks and getting to know them to some extent, only to watch recruit after recruit die.

I wonder if this, in part, is what Riordan referred to when he said that his recruits were the "only way he ever let himself down" when you talk to him in Arl Eamon's estate. I always wondered about that line.

Thanks. That was my train of thought as well. It's the same kind of thing when you get to Ostagar. You never meet the other Wardens. I can surmise that if the battle wasn't imminent, you probably would have been welcomed after the Joining with a pint and a round of congratulations.

And, yes, I think that's what Riordan meant. I think Duncan actually did care about his recruits, probably more than he should have. I think each recruit that dies eats away a little more at Duncan's heart and soul; you can see the pain in his face when he kills Jory.

[amethyst_rose2009]

Wow, I love this, Freckles!   I anxiously await the next chapter.


I agree that your version of Alistair's nightmare would have been so much better than that stupid Goldanna one.  Ugh, I can't stand that woman.  Anything would have been better than Goldanna.

[Freckles04]

Okay...back to the story!

---

Brotherhood

He met the rest of the Wardens at dinner the next day.

Duncan led him and Garth into the dining hall, to soaring applause and raucous catcalls. Ale flowed freely, as did the fine foods, and Alistair soon found himself singing a song he didn't know at the top of his lungs, to much encouragement and laughter. Even Duncan smiled widely, clearly amused by the ease with which Alistair settled into the group.

Maybe it was the half-dozen mugs of ale, but for the first time in his life, Alistair felt accepted. Welcome. Like maybe...maybe he'd found his place. He didn't feel like a misfit here. He might be a bastard, and a prince, and an almost-templar, but none of that mattered. He'd taken the Joining, and he'd survived. He was one of them.

It was an amazing feeling.

Over the next few days, he fell into an easy routine of sparring and drills in the morning, and chores in the afternoon. Thankfully his chores did not include scrubbing pots or mucking out stalls. Mostly they were administrative, learning about the Grey Wardens and their place in Ferelden, the history of the order, and the country itself. Education without religious flavoring was a new experience, one he greatly enjoyed.

On the third night after his Joining, the nightmare returned. Slightly different, but no less horrible.

He woke, bathed in icy sweat, to find Duncan sitting at his bedside. He gave Alistair a moment to collect his thoughts, then rose. "Come. We have much to discuss."

Alistair traded his night clothes for shirt and pants and followed the Commander to his office. Duncan offered him tea, which was really kind of odd, since he had the impression that the discussion they were about to have was big, and tea just didn't seem to be strong enough to go with it. But he accepted the mug and let the hot liquid soothe away the remnants of the dream.

Duncan settled himself behind his desk. "Being a Grey Warden means being able to sense the darkspawn. You know that already."

"Yes, you've said that before." Alistair took a sip of his tea. "Is that what the dreams are?"

"Exactly so. When we sleep, our natural mental barriers fade, letting the presence of the darkspawn into our minds without any filters," Duncan said. "Our minds then take that information, process it into something we recognize--a dream--and thus we experience these types of nightmares."

"Lovely." Alistair rubbed a hand over his face. "So I'm going to be haunted by these--these nightmares forever?"

"No, not forever, I'm afraid." Duncan held Alistair's gaze, and Alistair couldn't read the other man's eyes. "A Grey Warden's lifespan is limited by the taint. Your body fights the corruption, but eventually it will lose the battle."

"Eventually..." Alistair stared at him, the meaning of Duncan's words slowly seeping into his brain. "What do you mean, 'eventually'?"

"Grey Wardens live for roughly thirty years after their Joining," Duncan explained, his voice quiet. "Some more, some less. Over their lives, most Grey Wardens learn to block the darkspawn dreams, but when they return--and they inevitably do--the Grey Warden knows that his Calling is upon him. Tradition dictates that he journey for one last grand battle against the darkspawn in the Deep Roads."

"Wait." A smile played over Alistair's lips and he placed the half-empty mug on the Commander's desk. "You're joking. This is some kind of initiation thing, right? Scare the junior member so you can laugh and point?"

Duncan shook his head. "No, lad."

Alistair stared at him for a moment more, then launched to his feet. He strode away from the desk, a half-dozen steps, before turning to face Duncan once more. "You're saying--" His throat closed, choking off his words. "You're saying that I'm going to die? Maker's breath."

Duncan stood and walked around his desk to approach him. "Alistair--"

"How could you do this? I--I trusted you. And now you reveal that the wonderful concoction I drank, that could have killed me, is going to kill me anyway?" His fists tensed at his sides. He wanted to smash something--anything--to release this fear and anger and horrible, horrible sense of betrayal.

"Alistair." Duncan laid his hand on his shoulder. "Everyone--mage, templar, noble, commoner--dies. Any one of us could fall in battle against the darkspawn. As a templar, you would have faced death each time you hunted a mage. It doesn't matter who we are--death is assured. It isn't important how you die, but how you live."

Alistair shrugged off Duncan's hand and backed away. "Pretty it up however you like, Duncan. The fact remains that I am going to die. And you're the one who killed me."

He turned and strode out of the room without a backward glance.

[Sandtigress]

Heh, you know, given how excited Alistair gets when he hears he has a Queen and a child and knowing that the only thing he really wants is a family...it makes it that much harder not to romance him or even just to roll a female character so he has someone to romance every game. :-P Not that it wasn't nearly impossible before...

[Sandtigress]

Oooo, ouch. This always seems to happen to poor Al, huh? Great joy and then a few moments later, bam, a punch to the gut. *hugs Alistair*



I liked the line about the tea. :-P



I wonder if Alistair's templar training and practice at mental discipline would help him block the nightmares out earlier than other Grey Wardens. Heh, RP reason for my Dalish girl to learn to be a templar!

[Treason1]

Still reading.

Still liking.



Nice set up for a justification for Alistair to take the Dark Ritual path, come the events of the game. Should your Warden be female, there's little of Alistair's inner thoughts explained or voiced beyond trusting his fellow Warden. This helps to flesh those out a bit.



Someone made the comment about how interesting it will be to see how the Warden from Origins acts with other Grey Wardens coming into Ameranthine and bringing along their own rules and expectations with them. Personally, I've been under the impression that while there are some firm traditions and rules that all Wardens follow, each area and group (Antivan, Orlesian, Anders, Fereldan) does things in a bit different way than the rest.

[Miliat]

Oooh Angsty moment with Duncan there at the end. Love it.