[color=fff200]"Blessed are they who stand before
The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.
Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.
Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow.
In their blood the Maker's will is written.
My shield is the open hand of the Maker
To protect His children with his Light
My sword is His closed fist
To smite the wicked and purge the corrupt
My life is the Maker's, not my own
For if I fall today I will not die
Instead I shall return to His side
To watch over His children till my vigil be done."[/color]

Prayed Torian as knelt before his sword and shield. The sword was stuck upright in the ground with his shield leaning against it. An ornate crosspiece with the sun of the Chantry emblazoned upon it was his focus. The ground was cold and wet under his knees, and has been for the entire four hours he had been praying. Yet he did not feel it for the light of the Maker warmed his body and allowed him to ignore the small discomfort of the earth. 

As he finished his prayer Torian stood, his heavy armor clanking against itself as he moved. He lifted his shield, the Templar's sigil shining brightly in the sun, and finally his sword, wiping the dirt from the blade on his cloak before sliding into its sheath at his side. 

Looking around himself Torian admired the fortress where the Wardens had gathered their recruits. It was an impressive place and Torian was glad to finally be a part of the events that had shaken the world. For too long he had been cast in the shadows of history, unable to step into the light to aid the land he loved, and protect the Maker's children. Now he was at the vanguard of the world and he would not be found wanting.

Torian was torn from his inner thoughts when a cry of Darkspawn came from the watchtower. One of the Grey Wardens called out orders and the fort scrambled to follow. Being a recruit himself Torian was supposed to go the walls, but he had no bow, so instead he went to the gates. Donning his winged Templar Helm Torian then drew his blade and readied himself should anything come close to the gates. Unfortunately for him nothing did. The Wardens and their griffons made very short work of the small Darkspawn raiding party. It was a sight to behold still, watching the glorious creatures take wing and bear their riders to rid the world of the corruption before them.

Once the all clear was given Torian sheathed his blade once more and looked about. In his determination to serve this cause he had yet to report to the Warden's leader. He spotted the Dalish Elf dismounting his griffon, he quickly approached, his cloak blowing out behind him. As did another man in heavy armor that Torian saw out of the corner of his eye. 

Hearing the man's introduction as he came to the Warden leader, Torian went to a knee before the elf and bowed his head. [color=fff200]"And I as well, Milord. Torian Aldritch, Templar of the Order."[/color] He said proudly as he knelt, awaiting the Commander's word.