Hero Of Fereldan

Ostagar

Her legs were sore, her eyes were lifeless and her chest hurt. She didn't sleep on the way to Ostagar. Neither did she eat or drink. There wasn't much time to do anything. The thought of her parents caused her heart to break slowly, piece by piece, and all the while she was trying to figure out how to tell Fergus about Howe's treachery.

Her chest felt like it was being weighed down by an anvil that weighed fifty pounds, it's constant beating could be heard as it sped up. Her grey iron chainmail armour was still stained with the blood of her enemies. It was in need of repair, but she had neither the money or the resources needed. All she could do was save up to buy a better set.

From what she could see of Ostagar already, it was a Tevinter Ruin built by Dwarves. It had been abandoned hundreds of years ago - before Andraste herself Onóra presumed - as it's once white walls were now a grubby grey. Its roof no longer existed, leaving the floor to be bombarded to the elements. Tufts of olive green grass jutted out of the ground with Elfroot growing around them. Wooden doors had rotted away and parts of the walls and pillars had also collapsed.

The distant sound of swords arguing and humming through the still air could be heard along with the 'twang' of bow strings and the whispers of arrows whipping through the air only to bury themselves into the training dummies. Captains, Commanders and trainers could be heard yelling orders at their men in order to be heard above of the grunts of strength that escaped the Soldiers mouths.

Onóra looked around, it was cold compared to the warm welcome King Cailan had given her, the wind ghosting over her rosy cheeks. Duncan had asked her to find a junior warden called Alistair. How was she supposed to know who this 'Alistair' was when she wasn't given a description. She had been searching for at least an hour for the man. She had gotten lost three times, stumbled upon and harvested elfroot ten times, found the other recruits (Daveth and Ser Jory) as well as finding Teryn Loghain's tent.

The female warrior had began to lose hope. She took to looking at the Quartermaster's wares, finding nothing of interest, and began helping others. Then she began exploring. Onóra just happened to stumble upon something very interesting. An arguement. Well, more like a spat she supposed. At any rate, she walked to the scene which involved walking up a white slope that was a little steeper than it looked. She looked around and found too males. One was a mage. The mage had dark skin, short black hair that was messy and he was wearing circle robes.  The other male was a little taller than the mage. He was wearing splint mail armour and she could see the outline of the shield on his back; a sword sheathed at his left side. He had dark blonde hair, possibly a dirt blonde, that was short and stuck up slightly at the front.

"And to think we were getting along so well! I was even going to name one of my children after you: The grumpy one." The warrior ended in a severe tone, leaving the mage at a loss for words.

The mage growled in defeat, "Fine. I will speak with the woman if I must."  He turned on his heels and started to walk towards Onóra. His eyes were stern and narrowed. His voice took a tone of annoyance, "Out of my way fool." Onóra barely managed to move out the way as the mage marched off. She heard footsteps coming towards her; she looked up, seeing the warrior closer to her now.

"You know, one good thing about the blight is how it brings people together." The warrior joked.

"I actually agree with that statement." The female smiled warmly. Now that he was closer to her than before, she could study his features deeper. He had hazel eyes and a welcoming smile. It was certainly being welcoming to her now at any rate. So far the only person to welcome her warmly was the King. Everyone else was doing something else and being irate with her or just sending her to 'find a junior warden named Alistair.'

The male continued, grinning. "It's like a party. We can stand in a circle and all hold hands. That would give the darkspawn something to think about." He chuckled, pausing and looked at her with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Wait... We haven't met, have we? I don't suppose you happen to be another mage."

Onóra laughed. "A mage? Yes. I fire lightning bolts from my finger tips and I can make it rain fireballs." She smiled softly, "Just kidding. I am one of the new recruits. My name is Onóra Cousland."

The man nodded, as if remembering something. "Ah, that's the name. I'm Alistair, the Junior member of the order. I will be accompanying you when you have the joining."

Oh. You're Alistair. She thought, That was lucky.

"Pleasure to meet you, Alistair." Onóra stated, "It would be an honour to fight by your side if the rumours of going into the Wilds are correct."

Alistair chuckled nervously, "I -" He cleared his throat, "Thank you."

Onóra asked quizzicaly, "So, what does the joining involve? It's okay if you can't tell me. I like surprises."

Alistair took a tone of regret and, possibly, guilt. "I am afraid I cannot say. Though you will find out soon enough. At any rate, I take it you have found the other recruits?" Onóra nodded, solemnly, "Then I suggest we head back to Duncan. He'll have instructions upon what to do next."

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The walk back to the fire was a lot shorter than the one Onóra took to find Alistair.

Daveth and Ser Jory were already there. Her Mabari, Reginald, automatically came running up to her. He barked happily as he circled around her. She tapped her right leg and Reginald sat tall and proud next to her.

"I see you've found Alistair." Duncan stated, walking up to them, "That is, unless, you've finished riling up mages."

"She ambushed me. The way she wields guilt they should stick her in the army." He chuckled silently to himself, stopping when Duncan glared sternly at him.

"You shouldn't do that. We are too few and we don't need to give anyone a reason to add more ammunition against us."

Alistair sighed, "I... apologize."

Duncan cleared his throat and looked at Onóra, "We need you," He addressed the three recruits, "To go into the wilds. I need you to collect three vials of darkspawn blood for the ritual itself. Then, I need you to collect Grey Warden archives, where an ancient treaty is held."

"And where are the treaties, exactly?" Onóra asked.

"Alistair will show you the way. Now go. Watch your charges, Alistair. And come back alive."

Alistair looked towards the Commander and nodded, "We will."