The Warden-Commander watched their drinking contest until it was well and done, rather amused by the whole endeavor before going to sleep and hearing those roars. Those damned, insufferable roars. Arrahel absolutely
loathed the fact that he could understand fragments, although the main things he could understand in his broken interpretations of the Archdemon-speech was "Kill Wardens. Must not live. Kill Wardens!" in such an insufferable tone. Either way, when day broke and everyone was ready, he quickly and respectfully parted with his Dalish friends and began the day's trip to Denerim, the bustling capital of Ferelden.
It wouldn't be long before twilight when they arrived at the city walls, only to be stopped along the main road by two young-looking guardsmen. Arrahel had chosen this gate to enter as there was a small Warden armory he had the key to nestled inside the nearby guard station. The guardsmen were haughty, smirking as they spoke up. With their attitude, they were clearly either noble bastards who thought they could get away with anything or former highwaymen pressed into service as the shorter of the two spoke up in a smooth tenor.
"Ah, travelers? And who might you be? You'll have to pay the entry tax regardless, y'know."
Arrahel smirked, speaking with a smooth chuckle. "I, guardsman, am Arrahel the White,
Commander of the Grey."
"C-Commander of the Grey?!" The guardsman squeaked out, looking nervously to his cohort as they went from a cool demeanor to sweating cannonballs in an instant.
"That's right. And I believe the queen's writ for my summons implied that she would be
extremely cross were I delayed on my trip to the palace with my fellow Grey Wardens because, say... some random guardsman decided to hold me up at the gate instead of going to let her know I had arrived, as duty indicates."
"Y-yes, sir! Pass through, sir! Honor to help the Wardens, sir!"
Moments like this made the elf laugh internally as the guard quickly began to jog towards the Palace District- knowing how to flex the title to get through those who would be great annoyances otherwise was part of the job, after all! Making the sign for his companions to wait as he entered into the guardhouse, he would emerge a few minutes later with chestpieces and blue cloaks, as well as a ceremonial ten-foot-long polearm with an attached horizonal bar on which a banner could be displayed. Setting the polearm against the city wall, he handed each of his three junior Grey Wardens a blue cloak and a chestpiece, the former of which would be attacher to the latter (whereas the latter would be worn with the aid of a leather harness). He spoke bluntly, speaking as he moved the polearm to lean diagonally across a few crates before dropping his rucksack, fishing out what appeared to be a blue cloth as he moved to the crossbar.
"Put those on- they're ceremonial and you don't have to wear them into battle, but they'll be good in formal scenarios or situations like this one, when a lot of people have lost hope and think the world is dying. This will bring some comfort to the sorrowful, and stir a fire in the hearts of the brave. They well help bring this message to Thedas; that we are living and we refuse to fall!"
It was then he held the polearm up high, the blue cloth revealing itself to be an old Grey Warden standard that was in good condition, a memento of his former allies. Still, when all were ready, Arrahel hiked up the polearm so that the banner flowed above his head, supporting the haft with both hands as they began slowly processing towards the Palace District.
The blue and silver caught the attention of many. Chanters at their boards stopped in astonishment before quoting canticles that praised the champions of the just, children playing in the street stepped aside. A small elven boy who had snuck out of the Alienage gasped and ran to tell his fellow elves, who would all soon power through the guards and make their way to watch the return of the Grey Wardens. It would all be silent until a small girl stood before the procession and tugged on Kahra's pants, prompting her to kneel and placing a crown of flowers on the womans brow before running away giggling after the elven pair shared a quick hug.
After the display, the crowd began to become vocal. At first, there were whispers. Then, there was open talk. Finally, there were open shouts and cheerings, the people of Denerim not caring that two of the Grey Wardens were elves, nor that two of them were mages, nor that two of them were foreigners. Right now, they simply seemed to be happy that the Wardens had returned. On occasion, other kids stopped the Wardens as they walked along. One of them wanted to touch Anselm's ears to see if he was really an elf, and the man let him before ruffling his hair and having him scoot along. Members of the Chantry proclaimed the Maker's blessings upon the Grey Wardens as they passed through, only for it to continue after they were let into the gates to the Palace District. Seeing a pair that were none other than the queen and the prince, the children of the previous generation of Grey Wardens, Arrahel bent from the waist, his spare arm crossing his torso as he smiled faintly, the standard of his order firmly in his left hand as he rose and spoke up.
"Your Majesties, my name is Arrahel the White, Warden-Commander of Ferelden, and I am at your service. I hope that we may come together to work to end this Blight, as your parents did in the Fifth Blight and as all our ancestors have done in the ages before."