Garen had arrived at the Tevinter Border Fort an hour or so before midday. He heard the lookouts raise the alarm and watched from his perch in northeast corner of the courtyard as the Wardens unveiled their new playthings, the griffons. Was it impressive? Sure, but was it enough to stop the neverending hordes of Darkspawn? That remained to be seen.

After the attack ended, a few warriors gathered in the center of the courtyard in front of one of the wardens, an elf by the look of him. By the way some had been treating him it was a fair bet he was the man that Garen was supposed to see. He had no issues taking orders from an elf, heck one of the Dragon Heads had been one. Still it surprised him how eager some seemed to take his direction. Still, it was time to make his presence known. So he approached, his footsteps quiet to even the most attuned ears. 

He came up behind a Qunari and a dwarf, content to stand there and listen to whatever speech was going to be held. He knew for a fact the elven warden could see him, and that was enough. His fingers ran along the runes carved into the hilt of the sword on his left hip, Tân, as he waited.