This was hard. He honestly didn’t think being a Grey Warden called for so much…work (he tried finding a more accurate term, but had drawn up a complete blank.) He wasn’t talking about physical work, although he was sure that -- assuming he survived the process -- he would use much physicality to fight the numerous darkspawn. He wasn’t talking mentally, even if he knew he’d have to -- again, if he survived the process -- use his intelligence for battle strategies or exercise his memory with knowing his spells in a moments notice; no, he was talking about the emotional sense. In all honesty, he had figured being a Grey Warden meant one thing -- fighting the darkspawn, which was obviously hard in itself. He did not, however, anticipate the level of strength the would have to procure, from all aspects of the spectrum.
What he had figured was that the entirety of fighting darkspawn would be physical, he didn’t necessarily think they were particularly smart or intelligent, didn’t think that they would be hard to stab in the chest with a knife. In fact, from what he had heard about the last Blight, this would be no different in the level of effort. His Keeper was so adamant about the last Blight and kept things to a simple fact for Faer -- who was a child at the time -- she did, though, tell him that defeating the ominous and terrible Archdemon was a much easier task than had been anticipated. It took a couple of years, a couple of deaths, but in terms of the previous Blights that had threatened Thedas, it was the one that was the “easiest.” He had thought, or at least hoped, that this one had the same mentality.
But as he stood, surrounded with future Grey Wardens, future deaths and those who had “mastered the Taint”, he was beginning to realize the horrible sense of what it means to be a Grey Warden. Perhaps, what it means to be a hero.
Upon hearing that he could potentially die, his first instinct was the run. And when he did see the deaths of those who hadn’t been able to handle the darkspawn blood, he almost turned foot and left, their horrible faces of pain etched into his brain that made him believe it was easier to die by one of the many blades ready. In all honesty, when he accepted the Warden Commander’s proposal to be recruited, he obviously didn’t put much thought into it. At the time, he thought he would be making the right decision, going with the Wardens to do…whatever it is they do was better than being trapped by the Templars who might have killed them, but also might have just taken him to the Circle, the later being the more likely option of the two. He might have risked death at that point, but it couldn’t have been more probable than what he was facing now, not with so many people being killed right before his eyes.