[IC] Surviving the Struggle

[Genkai]

Prologue

The Mauve Warden, a dwarf named Berick Hazentall, scoured the region of Ferelden for the next generation of Wardens. Berick was part of the Warrior Caste and had been a Warden for nearly five decades, taking it upon himself to patrol The Deep Roads during the peace between the last Blight and the one now upon them once again. Berick was given an exemption due to his high standing as a decorated Mauve Warden which allowed him to travel on the surface while maintaining his family's status. When the nightmares began to get worse and he saw visions of dragons attacking the countryside with bloodied shreds of body parts littering the ground, he was determined to increase the numbers of the Wardens.

He also put a notice for the other regions to send help if they could.

In the meantime, Berick Hazentall went across the region to keep an eye out for those who exhibited the strength as well as morals which embodied a defender of the innocent, as well as slayer of the Darkspawn. Having found six Wardens, each unique in their own skills, he took them all back to his kingdom, Fuchsia so they could complete The Joining. The Joining is now a two-part ritual which inclu a Warden's Companion. The first part for the Pokemon is a battle like the Warden's. It's to demonstrate itself in combat against a horde of ten Darkspawn ranging from Hurlocks to Pokemon which had turned into demonic creatures filled with rage. The Companion would need to defend itself and prove that is has the capacity to either outwit the collection, beat them or evade them.

Once that was over, they undergo a two day session which they are chained in place, unable to sleep, starved, exposed to extreme conditions such as injury, cold, heights and other instances to provoke stress. Should the pokemon survive, they are given the blood of a Darkspawn that has been mixed with their Master's blood. This cements the bonding between a Companion and its Master and it fortifies the bond and determination the pokemon shares with the Warden. At the same time, the potential Warden is tasked to go into The Deep Roads to fight Darkspawn head on while under the supervision of a Senior Warden.

After they have slain enough to gather vials of Darkspawn blood, they retreat to the surface and travel to the Lost Tower where their pokemon are undergoing their second test. As they all stand in a circle on top of the tower to remember the fallen Wardens, victims of previous Blights, and those who aided them, the Senior Warden must recite the following:

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."

The Wardens would then drink the blood they gathered, along with that of their pokemon. While this would only cause a mild reaction from the pokemon, this could be much more harmful to the Wardens. They have a 50% survival rate or become corrupted and die from exposure to the blood. Pokemon, on the other hand won't show signs for a few days. Should both make it a week without showing signs of rejecting the rituals, they will become full fledged Wardens. Both the Master and its Companion will gather with the other select few recite the following oath:

"In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice."

Our tale of struggle begins in Redcliffe Village only two weeks after The Joining. The Mauve Warden has left the six newest recruits while he goes to Viridian City to appeal to the King and Queen and ask for more people to help in the fight against the Blight. So far everyone has waved him off but he is determined to continue recruiting and talking about the dangers until his final breath. For now, the six new Wardens and their Companions must decide what to do now. They've been tasked to spread the word of the newest Blight but also to help people in need and to not turn a blind eye or cold shoulder to anyone, no matter their circumstances. Berick Hazentall made sure the six had ample supplies and knew how to contact him if any of them saw the Archdemon. For now, they would have only had dreams with the dragons. Sadly, those dreams were a warning, a view into the future of Ferelden if they didn't act quick enough.

Chapter One: The Beginning of the End

As the six watched the Senior Mauve Warden leave with his Xatu beside him, the sun was slowly climbing above the mountains, finally shedding some light on the humble town. Sasha Estute let out a sigh and removed her glasses. Without them, she could still see but couldn't read anything. She pulled out a cloth from her leather messenger bag and quickly cleaned her glasses. "This place is filthy." She muttered, disapproving of the dust everywhere and lack of real roads or pavement. Of course the only places that put in the time to make a place hospital were those like her hometown of Highever. The silver haired scholar tilted her head back and looked at the glasses in the coy sunlight before putting them back on. Her Onix was behind the group but knew that in such a tight village, it would be better if it stayed out or went underground and just kept an eye on his Master.

Thanks to The Joining, the blood both parties drank made it possible to sense where each other were, but also where gatherings of Darkspawn were as well. But it also meant they knew where the Wardens were, it was indeed a double edged sword. While the woman in lace placed her hands on her hips, Devon raised his arms above his head and stretched. "Man, being back here brings back memories." He said. They had just arrived and Berick Hazentall had shown them around before quickly leaving but Devon felt like he was back home. If his home stole his beloved boots. "Watch your gold, silver and copper coins guys." He warned. "This place is full of sticky fingers. If I ever find out who nicked my boots, I'd offer to buy the guy a drink." He laughed and put his arms behind his head, his fingers lacing together. "Something might slip into said drink, I have sticky fingers myself." Devon chuckled and gave a smirk.

Sasha looked over at the redhead and then at the others, not sure if she approved them getting side-tracked by a petty event. Even so, they needed to figure out what to do. They had been told to warn people of the Blight, fight enemies and help people. It was all a little vague. And while she had read about the Wardens of the past, it was still hard to picture herself someday in a history book doing good deeds and saving the day. Sasha knew the real chance of her making a difference was slim though. Only a few people did good, most others died a painful death with no one even remembering their name, let alone face and cause. "We should probably check the local Request Wall." She told them. "It's something many cities and landmarks set up to list the help people need in the area. It lists the general description and any needed details can be found with the requester." She explained.

A mild growl from Devon's stomach could be heard. They had been traveling from The Kingdom of Fuchsia to the Kingdom of Olivine while trying to shake off the effects of the blood they had to drink during The Joining. He was hungry and tired and couldn't thinking about do anything except getting something to eat. "I think I saw that last time I was here, it was in the Tavern." He said and looked to the others. Since no one seemed to object, the party of six turned and walked back through the village, kicking up small clouds of dust as they walked. They came to a steep hill and Devon pointed to the wooden building built into the mountain above the village. "There it is..." He said darkly. "Watch out. Their ale may be good but it's not worth it when it's served by thieves." He pouted as they kept climbing up. When they finally got to the top and headed inside, they were welcomed by the smell of fresh bread, grilled fish and beer.

The tavern was small and located above it was a inn where people could rent rooms. There was also another inn down in the center of the village but it was newer and cost more. It was near the shops as well as the blacksmith. There were long wooden tables and stools inside and off to the left across from the bar, there was a stone wall with papers nailed to it. The group went over and saw four requests for aid. Devon looked over them and figure the most interesting one was from the blacksmith who needed some things from Granite Cave and the Korcari Wilds. Sasha on the other hand, found her heart set on the chef who wanted to cook with better ingredients. Of course The Mauve Warden had made it clear to not break up into small groups but to stick together if possible. Sasha stepped back and looked around. "Why don't we get something to eat and discuss our options?" She suggested.

"Sounds good to me." Devon said and sat down at the nearest table, bringing his backpack around to his lap so he could quickly check his inventory as it had been four minutes since they entered the tavern and inn and he wanted to make sure no one was targeting his goods again.

[sMoKe]

Arïs breathed deeply the moist morning air of Redcliffe, cool and refreshing, as the senior Mauve Warden Berick quickly led them through the village. Despite the light dew covering the distant fields, the road was dry and dusty. Heavy use this early indicated the village was like to be busy, as much so as a one-road town could be. The group stopped a moment, taking note of Redcliffe's Request Wall at Berick's instruction. As the Wardens began moving again, to the village exit to see their senior off, Arïs slowed up to observe his companions. Six they were, excluding Berick, all of different upbringings, all of dissimilar Castes, all of various social classes. Whether that would prove an aid or a weakness, Arïs wondered.

As they approached the end of the dirt road, Arïs noticed two wooden gateposts, worn and rotting. A white-yellow ball curled around the base of one, fur blowing lightly in the grass, as if a patch of snow had fallen only in one small circle. Arïs knew what it was, of course; the Joining had seen to that. Still, it felt unnatural to know where Eithina was at all times. He found himself skeptical of whether or not the sense was accurate. Once again, it was. Arïs let out a low, short whistle as they approached the remnants of the old gate. Eithina's head turned at the sound. As the wardens drew closer, Arïs saw red on her muzzle, the blood of some prey she had been hunting. The sight reminded him of the Joining, of the darkspawn blood, and of the oath he and his fellow Wardens had taken. Brothers and sisters. Though still not fully trusting of the others, he was confident in their intentions and was glad to be among the like-minded.

Eithina bounded toward him then, red eyes glistening in the rising sun. Arïs took a cloth out of his cloak and wiped the matching gore from her face, then stroked her head. They stood side by side at the edge of the gate, watching as the Mauve Warden left, picturesquely, with grey mountains in the distance glimmering white sunlight from their snow-covered tips. When Berick had all but disappeared from sight, the Wardens reached the consensus to check the Request Wall back at the village tavern. As they reentered Redcliffe, Arïs again noted the dryness of the main road. He thought it funny to see such a number of farmers in an area so parched. Arïs wondered if perhaps the Blight had caused the lack of rain. The thought was lost, however, as he realized they had arrived. "There it is." the Emerald Warden said grimly.

While the others entered and made straight for the requests, Arïs paid the man behind the bar for a pitcher of mead for his fellow Wardens and milk for Eithina, then made his way over to his companions. They huddled around the board until Sasha suggested they decide which to accept over a meal. Arïs walked back towards a table to find Eithina staring puppy-eyed up at him and at the milk bowl he had forgotten to place on the floor. He set it down, to her gratification, poured himself a glass of mead, and drank deeply. And now, he thought, the real work begins.

[Bad Weather]

It was usual for Ronan to take up the rear whenever the freshly anointed Wardens traveled together as a group. He was not particularly active in their conversations, and he told himself that this was for the benefit of all parties involved. Of the five others he traveled with, it seemed to him that he was the only one with a dark stain on his past. Compared to the other Wardens- potion makers, bards, trained assassins, a scholar- it was easy to feel out of place. He was still unsure why Nelwa had taken an interest in him, but, rubbing his throat thoughtfully, he was glad she did. And now Berick, their mother hen for the past two weeks, had left them. He watched the assassin's Ninetails bound up to its master, blood on her maw. Ronan took a moment to check, his blood told him his companion was nearby, though the Taillow evaded his searching eyes.

The first to speak was Sasha (he had gradually been getting the hang of their names), the scholar. "It's filthy here."

Ronan snorted, but cut his laugh there and kept his words to himself. He'd been around the noble crowd enough to know how much dirt affected them, especially when clothes were involved. He wondered what the woman thought of him, a Chasind born in and rather comfortable with the mire. Dust seemed the least of their problems. Devon warned them of thieves, and somehow Ronan doubted they'd be much of a problem to him. He carried very little on him, and he was especially barren of valuables since his visit to prison. Nevertheless he touched his fingertips to the knife in his belt, reassured by its presence. As long as nobody stole his longbow, he'd be fine. The group discussed the Request Wall, and though Ronan did not contribute, he nodded in affirmation. He was on board with assisting the people of Redcliffe. Aside from the obvious reasons, Ronan was glad to be a Warden because it meant doing something worthwhile, something productive. It felt good.

So they headed toward the tavern. Ronan took his lead from Devon, the only person so far he knew of that had been here before. Redcliffe Village itself was mystery to Ronan, as was most of the northern reaches of the Olivine Kingdom.

"There it is," said Devon, and Ronan eyed the tavern uncertainly. ""Watch out. Their ale may be good but it's not worth it when it's served by thieves." This ripped a genuine laugh from Ronan, which were always eerily bright coming from him.
"The ale must not be that good if they resorted to thieving," he joked. The Emerald Warden must have really liked those boots.

He trudged up the hill behind the others, stopping only momentarily to whistle for his Taillow (who quickly flew in to roost in the eaves of the tavern) before heading into the building. His stomach grumbled when confronted with the smell of cooking meat, reminding him that he had not eaten in many hours. He held the hunger at bay, for now, to check the papers on the wall. Upon seeing the request from the Redcliffe woman who'd lost her child, he felt a sharp pang of sympathy. Miscarriages had been common in his Chasind village, the harsh lifestyle took its toll on all who lived in the Wilds. The chef's request seemed appropriate to his skills as a hunter, should the man require meats. Though he would rather visit the grieving mother first, he kept the chef's mission in his mind.

Sasha suggested they get something to eat before evaluating the missions, but Ronan had already locked on to the pitcher of mead Arïs was holding, and for a moment he grappled with himself over getting food or sitting down to drink.
His kindness won out as he followed the other Wardens to their table but did not take a seat, instead standing at the head of the table.

"I'll get the food." He rubbed his nose and refused to make direct eye contact with those he was speaking to. "Wha' you all want?" He was thinking some bread, pork and beans for himself really, but he doubted the others (especially the noble scholar) would want to dine on the food of the lower classes. "Though I don't have the coin to pay for it all," he said, shaking a pitifully empty coinpurse for emphasis. "So pay up."