"Don't worry, Tev, I promise that no matter how big you get I won't forget what you looked like tiny and covered in bruises from picking a fight with someone twice your size. Again."

"Thanks, Acara, I appreciate that."

"Perhaps you can re-create the experience if we meet any Qunari."

"I actually think I could probably beat up a qunari," he says contemplatively. "Have I mentioned my life is surreal?"

"You have."

"Well, it is."

"I think all of our lives got more surreal around the time when we were recruited."

"I don't doubt it."

"I'm going to look around some more," Acara says when she's finished eating. "Maybe tell off some more shemlen who think because I'm an elf I must be a servant."

"Have fun," says Tev, who is still eating.

"Not much fear of that," she snorts.

She wanders around for a while. Maybe it's the look on her face, but no one actively accosts her as a servant.

Eventually she wanders by a kennel.

"Hmmm," she hears the kennel master say. "This isn't good. I'd hate to waste such a promising member of the breed." He turns around and looks at her. "Are you one of the new Wardens? I could use some help."

"What's the problem?" she asks. He identified her as a Warden and not a servant, which buys him at least a few minutes of civility.

"This is a mabari. Smart breed, and strong." Oh lovely, he thinks because she's an elf she doesn't know what a mabari is. "His owner died in the last battle, and the poor hound swallowed darkspawn blood. I have medicine that might help, but I need him muzzled first."

"And you need help with that because...?"

"Mabari are smart. He's already wise to my tricks."

"Alright." The poor dog didn't deserve her scorn.

"Go in the pen and let him smell you," the kennel master says. "We'll know right away if he'll respond. Let's hope this works. I would really hate to have to put him down."

Acara steps into the pen. She holds out a hand to let the dog smell. He relaxes gradually from his aggressive stance. She winces when she sees how badly off he is, and is suddenly glad she agreed to help. The dog growls weakly, but doesn't put up a fight. She slips the muzzle on and he whimpers plaintively. She exits the pen, looking back at the poor creature as she does.

"Well done," the kennel master says tiredly. "Now I can treat him properly. Poor fellow. I don't suppose you're heading into the Wilds anytime soon?"

"I hadn't been planning to go back," she says, "but plans can change."

"There's a particular flower that grows in the swamps, here. With it, I might be able to improve his chances. It's very distinctive; white with a blood-red center."

"I might be familiar with that flower," she says.

"Good. In the meantime, I'll be treating our poor friend." Acara nods, and heads back to the area where the other recruits were eating.

Most of them have finished eating. Carlos is loitering a ways from the campfire, looking vaguely maudlin.

"You," she tells him, "you're coming with me."

"Pardon?"

"You're feeling sorry for yourself. It's understandable; you just lost your home and your loved ones, and you apparently can't trust the people you left behind to completely pick up your slack in looking after themselves. That's awful. But you're a Grey Warden now, and you'll be a poorer one if you practice being sad instead of getting things done. So you're my backup as I go back into the Wilds to look for an herb to hopefully save the life of a sick Mabari."

"...Well. When you put it that way."

"So it's settled. Let's go."

"Lead on, m'lady."

"I'm nobody's lady." But she leads on, all the same.

"So, if you're so sad to leave home, why did you join the Grey Wardens?"

"Best of a bad set of options."

"Is anyone using your story for blackmail material?"

"No. I...there was another mage, an apprentice. His name was Corbin. We were...he was my brother, in all but name. The Templars thought he had been doing blood magic. I found this out as they were confronting him. I should have gotten Ambrose then, but I panicked. I let him get away, and the Templars were. Not happy. One of the other apprentices got Ambrose, like I ought to have, and he offered me the chance to join the Grey Wardens instead of whatever punishment the Templars devised, most likely Tranquility."

"What's Tranquility?"

"Tranquility is when a mage is cut off from the Fade. It means no more magic, no more dreams...no more emotions. The Tranquil can also work with lyrium completely safely, which means they can enchant. The vast majority of the Circle's income comes from the enchantments of the Tranquil."

"That's horrifying."