Legend (Dragon Age Origins)

Chapter 5: First Blood

Pulling back her arm, Dru threw the knife with all her strength. She was aiming for the centre of the log, but the blade impacted against its side and bounced back onto the ground. Gritting her teeth, she tugged another from her belt and took aim once more. Although she missed the centre target once again, at least this time the knife managed to embed into the wood.

"That log has a family, you know," an amused voice said from behind her.

Rolling her shoulders, she retrieved a new knife and practised the throwing motion, this time not letting go.

"Did Duncan send you to look for me?" she asked with irritation.

Alistair was wearing the same Grey Warden armour as she had on, albeit a larger and more protected version. Strapped to his left forearm was a large kite shield, the same symbol of twin griffons painted across the iron surface.

He walked to the edge of the rampart and peered down to the deep gorge below. He made a shuddering noise before turning from the sheer drop. 

"Actually," he said, "I didn't have to look at all. One of the soldiers was complaining about a grumpy woman that kept attacking the trees; I just knew it had to be you."

Sleeping outside hadn't proved as tactful as Dru thought. As soon as the sun rose beyond the trees it had become too bright for her to sleep peacefully. Leaving the others behind, Dru took to exploring the camp while it was empty of its usual overcrowded bustle. She was pleased to find a stack of thick logs resting against the parapet at the edge of the ruins and had spent the following hours using the eye of one unfortunate log as target practice. Target practice that she was frustratingly failing at...

She let go of the knife in hand and watched as it soared through the air and stuck two spaces left of the centre. Progress.

"We're starting the Joining ritual soon, right?" Out of ammo, she began retrieving her knives.

Alistair helped her. "Well, not the Joining itself. There are a few things we'll need to sort out before it can begin, but Duncan wants it all done before nightfall. The darkspawn horde is expected to be here sometime after midnight."

"Can't you tell me anything?" Grunting, she tugged out a knife that was deeply embedded into the wood. "Anything that won't upset the Grey Warden code, I mean. Like... does it hurt?"

"Hurt? Yes. It's kind of... well, I wouldn't say it's excruciating... but it will be turning you into a Grey Warden and that's no simple matter. Anything more I can't reveal, sorry."

"No visits from the ghosts of my past, then?"

He handed her the knives he'd collected. When he spoke, he sounded almost sad, "I'm sure you'll be fine."

Before she could grill him for further information, Alistair's eyes flicked to something over her shoulder. She spun on her heels, knife in hand, but it was only Jory looking more anxious than usual.

"What's wrong?" She headed over to him, slotting her knives back into their little sheaths as she walked.

Jory jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Duncan's telling us about the Joining. You should probably hurry; I don't think you'll like what he has to say."

Dru gave Alistair a questioning look and received a shrug in response.

They made their way back to the camp, where Duncan and Daveth appeared to be caught in the midst of an intense conversation. When he saw them approaching, Daveth marched over.

"He's going to send us into the Wilds, he is!" He thrust an accusing finger at Duncan.

"So?" Dru scoffed.