Dragon Age Origins: The Tale of Solana

Chapter 14: Ser Jory

"He was always strange," Alistair said in a low growl. "But then again, beggars can't be choosers. Right now, we need all the help we can get."

"About this Joining ritual," Solana asked slowly. She turned around towards the tall man. Her eyes scanning for anything that might give her alarm. "What is it?"

Alistair felt the elf's stare deep into him. She was waiting for him to give her any kind of sign of worry or slip of body language. He needed to be careful how he worded his next sentence. Carefully... "I wish I could tell you more," he began. Seeing her instant change of expression, he held up his hands. "Maybe ask me again after Duncan speaks to you about it. It's... That's all I can really say."

Solana didn't like all this secrecy; Daveth had that right at least. She was beginning to worry. Pushing fear aside, she still needed armor. She walked over to the shem who worked as the quartermaster.

He was pacing, mumbling to himself really, over by a chest that sat heavily on the ground. When she approached, his expression hardened. His mutton chops barely hide the rising red color to his face.

"You there," he pointed with a stiff finger. He jammed it into Solana's small shoulder. "Where is my armor? And why are you dressed so," his hand floated up and down her outfit, "so preposterously?"

Solana's lips puckered to the side as she did when she began to grow ticked. She flicked the man's hand away. "Are you mistaking me for a servant?"

"What," the man questioned loudly. His face then went pale as the recognition set in as he noticed a young Grey Warden standing behind her. "Oh. You're the one who arrived with the Grey Warden. I... Please," he hung his head, "please forgive my rudeness! There are so many elves running about, and I've been waiting for... It's simply been so hectic! I never thought...

P-please pardon my terrible manners! I... I am just the quartermaster, a simple man, no one special..."

Solana heard Alistair snicker from behind her. She felt a twinge of anger shoot up her spin, raising the hairs on her neck.

She resisted the urge to smack the man silly for not only assuming her position, but how he obviously treated his hired help! She was careful not to let her temper get the best of her as she shook her hair from her face. "Perhaps," she began, "you should treat your servants kindlier."

The man jolted and raised his head. "Y-yes, of course. You're very right. Did you... Come for some supplies, perhaps?"

Solana quickly bought some armor and sold the fancy Denerim garment to the man for a measly two coppers. She went behind the curtain that lead into a tall crate to change. As she did, it became clear to her that this was the first time she had ever put on such garb. The helm was snug, allowing her sharp ears to be pressed to the side of her head. It seemed better equipped for humans, then an elf.

Her gloves were studded into curious patterns across the leather. Solana had passed on new boots, figuring her mother's to be as good as any shemlen make. And then finally, the armor. The heavy hide had been studded with steel for extra strength and fit her perfectly. It amazed her that, even though the helm was tight, the armor felt natural.

He watched her step out dressed in the armor she had chosen. "Wow..." Alistair was impressed by how confident she walked in it, having never worn armor before. Her eyes slide over, and he was surprised by how they made him jump. They held an intensity to them, those glass-like eyes. The very moment they were on him, he watched a humbleness glow from her as she looked down with a shy smile.

Up past the quartermaster was a site set aside for the injured, the prisoners, and even more tents! Solana could see the immense stack of tents that were placed down into a valley, where it held another section of ruins that crept further into the Korcari Wilds. The rest of the Grey Wardens, no doubt.

A statue of Andraste planted the center of the area, and yet another priest was there praying for the soldiers. Many of them were down on one knee to pray.

A rather large man, larger even than Alistair, stood there. He wore bulky armor that looked heavy. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword and he was listening intently to the woman speaking in a chant. His brown eyes fluttered over the instant the two had passed by. He quickly shook hands with Alistair and then Solana. "Greetings. You must be the third recruit we've heard about?"

"Yes. I am Solana."

"Ser Jory is my name," he went on to explain. "I hail from Redcliffe, where I served as knight under the command of Arl Eamon. I wasn't aware elves could join the Grey Wardens. Those camped in the valley are all human."

Of course every human had to be the same. Was Alistair the only one that didn't think Solana being an elf to be so strange? "Do you have a problem with that," she said in an abrasive tone.

Ser Jory shrugged. "No. Clearly, the Grey Wardens pick their recruits on their merits." Solana's face dropped in a jolt. "I hope we're both lucky enough to eventually join the Wardens. Is it not thrilling to be given that chance?"

Solana nervously shifted from foot to foot. Was she not thrilled to be here? Being here had saved her life, her whole alienage perhaps. But the thought of war, and mythical beings put a damper on the thrill of battle she was used to. "Are you not nervous about fighting darkspawn?"

Ser Jory looked down. He had pondered the same fear deep within himself. How his pregnant wife had looked saying goodbye to him? Oh, how he missed her.

"I would be lying if I said I wasn't." He looked back up. "As a boy, my mother told us darkspawn hunted down all children who misbehaved."

"What a horrible thing to say, and at that, what a huge utter lie," Solana exclaimed. Alistair began to laugh, unable to hide his grin any longer when the small woman's eyes grew large.

Ser Jory acted as if it wasn't a big deal. "It is a foolish superstition, I know, but I still shiver when I think of fighting them. Tell me, has anyone told you what this Joining ritual entails?"

Solana shook her head, pushing away the silly image of human mothers telling horror stories to their children. Had they no other better things to do, or were elven mothers the only loving ones? "Daveth said we might be going into the Wilds," she spouted a bit still in thought.

"I never heard of such a ritual," Ser Jory said with a frown. Alistair watched the large recruit cross his arms and stare over at him. "I had no idea there were more tests after getting recruited."

"Maybe they just want to be for sure we are capable," Solana said coming back to reality. "I would if it was as serious as a war."

"Perhaps," Ser Jory mumbled. His arms dropped and he began walking away, "I suppose since you're finally here I'd best get back to Duncan's tent, as should you. I'll see you there."