We sat huddled by the fire, mostly grizzled hard men - I was the only woman in our company, but it didn't bother me. The wind howled through the make-shift camp between the ruins of Ostagar, some Mabari hounds barked nervously in their pens, the brightly colored canvas of the royal tent strained against its anchors and dark clouds warned of another wet night. Carver was resting propped up on his elbow, his third bowl of gruel empty next to him. I poked a greyish blob with my spoon and it bobbed beneath the surface of the likewise colorless liquid.
"Argh, I hate lamb stew…." I muttered, but spooned the mixture into my mouth regardless. When the battles start in earnest you never knew when you might get to eat again. Or what.
"Why can't they at least make it look more appealing, if improving the taste is impossible?" I said, mostly to myself.
A few of the other men either smiled or merely shook their heads. They were polishing armor and weapons. The calm façade of the camp might have misled an inexperienced soldier, but everyone in our regiment was keenly aware of the tension and even anticipation stirring in our veins. The battle would be soon. Or so they said. Despite the brittle atmosphere everyone was on their best behavior, the King himself was camping a few feet from us after all.
This battle would be different, though, and not only because King Cailan was among us, or because the fabled Greywardens were present too. We didn't battle any normal enemy, we were here to battle darkspawn. I had heard of these creatures, and seen some crudely drawn pictures in the Chantry's library back home. I had thought them greatly exaggerated. How wrong I was.
Lothering. I felt a sudden pang of longing, thinking of mother and Bethany, thinking of home - the green fields surrounding our house, the chirping bugs in the late afternoon, sweet smelling breezes from the flowering orchards. I shook myself before I got too carried away. Carver gave me a knowing look, and nodded mutely.
There was some commotion near the gates, one of the Greywardens had arrived and there was much excitement about this. He was apparently the head of the Greywardens in Ferelden, or whatever they call their leader, I could not recall just then. The King had even gone to greet him – no wait them - I thought I saw another figure as I squinted through the smoke of the fire.
"Not that we'd ever get a royal greeting," I scoffed. The men laughed.
"Well, young sir, you be too unimportant!" joked Miser. He probably had a name, but we had just always called him Miser. He was an elderly man and he had already lost one of his eyes fighting for the crown. He got a bit of coin as reward for his valiant efforts or compensation for the eye, I was never sure. But of course he drank himself into a stupor that night, and the rest of his coin was stolen.
"Yeah, sis," Carver butted in. "You don't belong to the Wardens, you're just a lowly infantryman, remember? Never mind that we have served in the army's most elite regiment!" Oh bother here he goes again… "They don't call us The Lost for nothing!"
"Yes, yes, alright Carver. Do you want to say it a little louder so that the King can hear you?" I hissed, eyeing the King as he entered his tent. "And we're not elite you bugger – we're idiots. Only idiots would go into some of the places we've been sent to. AND no-one except you calls us 'The Lost', so shuttup." This caused our companions to roar with laughter, and Carver to shoot me a venomous look. I shoved him over by placing my hand on his face.
"Agh! Faye! What are you, five?" he complained sitting up and dusting off his tunic. I merely stuck out my tongue at him in reply.
There were several recruits for the Wardens hanging around camp. One was a sleazy fellow from Denerim, or so he claimed. He had tried getting friendly with me on his first night here. It was a mistake he would never make again. Hobbling away, he muttered something about me being the type the Wardens could recruit, between spitting blood and curses.
I wouldn't like being a Greywarden, I mused. It would mean that I would need to leave mother and Bethy, and Carver too. My duty was to protect my family, first and foremost, that's what father said before he died, and I still believed it. The sole reason for our joining the most dangerous squad in the army was to get our service shortened, allowing us to go home sooner. I had my suspicions that Carver would have joined this squad regardless of what I thought, though.
He would have made a good Greywarden. It would allow him to stick out on his own, away from me, and our dearly over-protective mother. She would never have allowed it, I thought. But of course one had to be chosen for the Wardens... I was so lost in thought that my stew had gone cold, the fat from the meat setting into a grimy yellowish wax. I put the bowl aside, feeling slightly queasy, as far away from me as arm's reach could manage.
A young man, with reddish blonde hair, I knew to be a Warden passed by our group, headed to a large bon fire were I saw the leader of the Wardens, and the two recruits. Trailing behind him, I was almost surprised to see a girl. I don't really know why it should surprise me, being in the army myself.
She stumbled once, but righted her step and continued following the Warden. Her armor was definitely of superior make, but it was smeared with dirt and dried blood. I could almost make out the crest of a noble house on the shoulder guards; it looked like leaves or twigs of sorts.
She walked with poise, at a dignified pace with shoulders squared, but I could see that she was greatly fatigued, and I guessed it took great effort to maintain her composure. The armor was enough of a signal that she didn't come to be here at leisure, but when I took in her face I couldn't help but draw my breath. Her chin length black hair was matted and her face was pale and grim, grit had dried on her cheeks where tears had fallen. Her eyes were bloodshot, but the anger and determination I saw there astounded me.
When the figures had passed I saw that they had the same effect on the others. Carver was following their progress until their reached the fire; the other men were quiet and had stopped what they were doing before.
"Well, at least we can be glad that's not us," I said, trying to break the mood.
"I wonder what happened to her…" I heard Carver mutter under his breath.
The rest of the evening passed in an uneventful lull. It was difficult knowing when precisely night was, the sky had taken on a ruddy glow and strange smells and sounds were carried into the camp on the breeze. I was partly awake when I heard the horn.
The entire camp was in a surge of activity in less than a heartbeat, I helped Carver tighten his greaves, and pulled my gloves on before sheathing my blades. Our group huddled together briefly, each exchanging looks with the others. No words were necessary, we knew we might never be together like this again, and no one wanted or needed to say it. Messengers ran between the parties delivering instructions. We were to meet below the bridge. The darkspawn were coming.
Running down the narrow steps I caught a glimpse of two figures running across the bridge. It was the young man and the new recruit, the girl from earlier. I heard that the other two recruits were missing, just gone, no one knew where they were, and the girl was the only one left. Dark rumors were circulating about the whereabouts of the other two.
I only had a moment to watch them, for soon Carver was shoving me forward. I continued down and soon our group was lost in the crowd. We made our way to one side, not quite in the front and neither too close to the back. Helmets were pulled closed, a last few buckles tightened and scattered prayers muttered as we waited.
We didn't wait long, soon the Mabari hounds began baying and growling, the men fidgeting in anticipation. Looking back I saw the Warden leader and King Cailan, dressed in shining golden armor. I could almost not believe that he would wear that into battle – it really made him stand out… The King spoke a few words of encouragement, but as the darkspawn became visible between the trees I felt the familiar prickle of anxiety. Our army felt desperately small as the darkspawn creatures just kept coming, and soon they filled the entire horizon. I could see some men's faces change in horror, fear drenching the air around us.
Part of the King's forces would attack the horde head on, while Tir Loghain would lead the rest to flank and then attack the darkspawn horde - how appropriate that word was, I was only beginning to realize.
The signal was given. Hounds bounded forward in a frenzy of anger, hitting the first lines of the darkspawn with spectacular force. The archers rained down fiery arrows on the approaching creatures, felling many, but yet they kept coming. After what felt like ages we started running towards the creatures, to meet them head on. In a clash of steel and flesh, the first line met theirs. Anguished screams filled the air, battle cries and the ringing or metal on metal. Our group had fanned out, attacking creatures that were focused on other soldiers. I remained close to Carver, never letting him out of my sight. I smiled as he decapitated two huge creatures with one fell swoop – he was good with a sword.
He was also not very careful. Rising behind him, as if from the earth itself, a huge ogre lifted its paws above its head, ready to crush my brother. I quickly finished off the creature I was busy with, and in a cloud of smoke I disappeared, only to reappear a few feet in front of Carver.
He was happily hacking away at a really ugly little fellow casting spells. I ran past my brother, and taking a running leap, I drove both my daggers into the ogre's head. It tried pawing stupidly at me, trying to pull the stinging little human off its face, but pulling one dagger free, I drew across the creature's throat. It stopped resisting and stood for a few moments before toppling over.
I jumped off the carcass and landed neatly at my brother's side. His eyes were wide, and he nodded wordlessly. We stayed closer together as the throng of bodies around us became denser. There were fewer and fewer soldiers in the crowd. The darkspawn were overwhelming us with pure numbers. Something caught my eye, turning I saw a huge beacon fire lit on one of the towers. It was the signal for the rest of the forces to attack. Where were they?
"Where's the rest of the army? We're being massacred here!" Carver echoed my thoughts.
I saw an ogre some distance away, towering above the rest of the wreathing mass of bodies. Several soldiers were trying to bring the brute down, but it seemed unstoppable. A moment later I saw it grabbing someone off the ground in its great paws. The flash of gold told me all I needed to know.
Everything around me slowed, I heard the metal creak, bend and give way as the creature tightened its grip. I heard screams. I was about to run toward the ogre when it tossed the King to one side,He landed in a motionless crumpled heap. The Commander of the Grey – ah yes that's what their leader was called – rushed towards the ogre and planted his daggers deep into the thing's chest - once, twice and a third time. The creature started falling over, but not before delivering a brutal blow to the Greywarden, sending him flying a several feet. With the ogre defeated the Greywarden all but crawled toward King Cailan, and in one despairing moment he looked to the burning signal tower before he too collapsed motionless.
I suddenly regained animation, and with renewed determination I fought my way back to Carver. I didn't stop to explain. I grabbed him by the collar as I rushed past, and just run on. He staggered backwards for a few feet, stumbling over corpses and clutching at his collar.
"What in the fade are you..." he screamed angrily above the clamor of battle, but stopping midsentence I knew he saw what I was running from.
The King's mangled body, the Commander of the Wardens slain next to him, every man and woman being cut down mercilessly, the beacon blazing and far off in the distance the last of the forces with Tir Loghain retreating.
"Oh Maker!" Carver spun round and followed me as we ran for our lives. We killed any creature that came into our way, but we didn't pause, we didn't falter until we were deep within the Kocari Wilds.
After hours of running our feet could not move any more. We both collapsed, our breath coming in ragged gasps. My muscles were screaming at me, my heart was pounding, and still all I could taste was smoke and blood. With my elbows on my knees I dropped my head into my hands.
"Do… do… do you… think we're the only ones… left?" Carver managed.
"Don't… know. Maybe," I huffed in reply.
I crawled to a nearby stream and lying flat on my stomach I pushed my head into the brackish water. Coming up I took a few gulps of the foul tasting liquid into my mouth, and spat it out, trying to get rid of the taste of battle. I rose unsteadily to my feet and watched as Carver did the same in the stream.
When he was done I offered him my hand. He brushed my hand away, and made it shakily to his feet. Stubborn bugger, I thought.
"So what's the plan?" he asked.
"We must get back to Lothering, we must get to mother and Bethy."
"How will we do that? We can't exactly go back to Ostagar and on the way pick up our bags and some supplies," he replied sourly.
"We're going through the wilds," I said and waited for the horror to show on his face. I was not disappointed.
"Are you crazy! Wait, no don't answer that…"
"Look we just head in that direction, it should take us around Ostagar and get us onto the back roads to Lothering," I replied in as measured a voice as I could manage.
After a brief pause to consider, my brother nodded.
"Very well, I think you might actually have a point. And after that? We'll need to get mother and Bethany away from here."
"I don't know, we'll make a plan. For now, let's just focus on getting to them before that cursed horde of creatures do, alright?"
"Lead the way," he said, a bit too sarcastically for my taste. I shot him a nasty look.
"Besides, you never know! Maybe we'll find a tame dragon and fly mom and Bethy out of there!" I called over my shoulder as I began jogging with new purpose in the direction of home.