He was tiring rapidly. His opponent was too good, too fast, too aggressive. There was no hole in his attackers defence, no flaw that could be exploited, simply because there was no need for his attacker to defend himself. Carver could do nothing but attempt to block the onslaught of steel and wood that slashed repeatedly at his face and chest.
He was tiring too fast he knew and he knew it. The fight would be over all too soon and he would not be standing victorious, or at all for that matter. Then he saw it, his golden opportunity. His attacker lunged just a little too far forward and Carver was on him. With a final desperate surge of energy he shouldered the elf into the ground.
Only as he was flipped onto his side in midair did he realise it had been a feint. The hard floor came rushing into view too fast for his liking - this was going to hurt.
When he came to he felt the cold, damp grass against the back of his head and felt the dew seeping through his leathers and tickling his back. He closed his eyes and waited for the blow that he knew would come. The same blow to the side of the head that he received every time he lost to his sparring partner. He awaited the sweet release of unconsciousness...and felt nothing.
He cracked his eyes open slightly and saw a hand offered his way. His eyes followed the arm up and he saw his attacker's face. Sharp features were overlaid by a swirling tattoo that crossed one cheek before winding down the elf's neck. The dark brown eyes that glared down at him softened and he grasped the offered hand, hauling himself to his feet.
"You're getting faster Carver" the elf said with a hint of mirth in his voice, "One of these days you might actually land a hit".
"You'll have to teach me that little trick you pulled, I thought I had you. How did I end up on may back?" Carver asked perplexed.
"All in good time my friend, that's my coup-de-grace and i won't pass it on lightly".
Carver sighed, a smile twitching at his lips. It'd been roughly 3 months since he was taken by the wardens from the deep roads and he was enjoying himself far more than he'd expected. Of course he hadn't at first. After waking up from his rushed joining he'd spent the next week brooding and recovering in equal measure. As far as he was concerned, his brother had abandoned him and left him in the hands of this merry group of travellers who seemed as annoying as Anders.
However, a few days before they had reached the surface, the human - who he had assumed to be the leader and most senior of the wardens - had taken him to the side of the camp they had set up to have a private conversation. Carver had expected a lecture perhaps trying to pry into his life, maybe a little resentment about having to take care of him and a few crude warnings about the dangers they would face. What the man had said however, proved to be rather enlightening.
"I am going to talk at you for a few minutes and then when I have finished I want you to take first watch and think about what I say. I do not want a response until at least tomorrow and I will not listen to anything you have to say until then. Is that understood?"
Carver had bristled at that, he did not like being talked to this fashion but what the man had said did make sense, he would need time to come to a sensible conclusion about whatever was to be revealed next. He decided to hear the man out and nodded his head curtly to show his consent.
"Good. Now, we will be stopping by the warden base in Ansberg in about 4 months. You have no obligation to us then. You can choose to stay there and be assigned a role by the warden-commander when we get there or you can continue your training with us. That decision does not need to be made yet so I will not ask for an answer yet. Until then you are a part of our scouting party and will therefore begin training with Ashiera when we reach the surface."
"While I am in charge of this group, that does not mean I have the only say in what happens, that is not how I choose to lead. We are all equals here as far as I am concerned and so I will listen to any opinions you have about the decisions I make. If you disagree with something I, or my fellow wardens, do then let me know. The only thing I ask of you is that you follow my orders while in combat explicitly. By all means, use your initiative and fight how you want but if I give an order while we are fighting you MUST NOT ignore it. Understood? okay now take first watch, Ashiera will relieve you and we shall talk in the morning."
Carver smiled ruefully when he thought back to their talk the next morning. He had agreed wholeheartedly with the human - later learning that his name was Kane and he hailed from the Frostback mountains, from one of the Alamari tribes - and had thrown himself into his training, determined to prove himself as more than just a charity case.
And that is exactly what he did. It had been no more than 3 months since they left the deep roads and yet he felt stronger, faster and more skilled than he ever had before. Carver was under no delusions that this would be a hard year for him and that he still had much to learn but for the first time in his life, he relished the thought of what the future would bring.
Turning to face Ashiera, Carver reflected on his sparring partner. He liked Ash and could not help but compare the elven rogue to Varric. They were both quick witted and constantly in a good mood it seemed and much like Varric, Ash had an infuriatingly easy time creating whole sagas of bullshit at the click of a finger.
In combat they were polar opposites however, despite using the same weapon. While Ash wielded an intricately carved shortbow, he also carried a rather unusual dagger, the likes of which Carver had never seen before. It was of a similar style as a crow dagger and yet the blade was a jet black with silver runes encircling the hilt. The truly strange thing about it was its size though. It was longer than a dagger for sure and yet shorter than any longsword he had ever laid eyes on. It was as if the blade was forged for the archer's very hand and yet Carver knew this was not true. Ash had found this particular piece of craftsmanship in the deep roads a few years back and since then had used it to slay an inordinate amount of darkspawn.
Carver still marvelled at seeing Ash in combat. He was a shadow, or so he had told Carver, and Carver found no reason to doubt him. He would flit around the battlefield peppering their enemies with arrows before diving straight into the fray, slashing from side to side with his blade and bow alike. At first Carver was perplexed by this strange technique: Why would an archer want to be near the enemy? that was the job of warrior like himself. He had even asked at one point and the only answer he received was a deflective "I am not as feeble as you believe, dear Carver".
Although he shouldn't have been surprised, all of the wardens had strange fighting styles. Their leader, Kane, fought with a single longsword (crafted from the same black metal as Ash's small blade) and used his other hand to devastating effect in grapples and throws. While he did not carry a shield, Kane did wear a piece of plate armor running up his left forearm that he often blocked and deflected oncoming blades and even arrows with. It was no wider than Carver's bicep and yet Kane seemed to be able to judge exactly where it needed to be to protect him from anything that his longsword could not.
The fourth and final member of the team was a rather gruff elf by the name of Syrobryn - shortened to Syro for the benefit of the humans in the group - who wielded a long bladed-staff. Syro was an arcane warrior and one of the last of his kind, or so he claimed, and he fought like a demon. He would often wade directly into the centre of a group of enemies, their attacks bouncing harmlessly off his magically enhanced armor before laying waste to all around him in a matter of seconds. He used blade and magic together to form a terrifying fighting style that was unmatched by any of his enemies.
The only thing lacking from their merry ensemble was a healer. While Syro dabbled with poultices and basic healing magics, it was clearly not his forte. This was soon to be rectified however, if what he had overheard Kane and Ash saying a few nights ago had been true.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, he turned again to address Ash. "What happens now?"
"Now? Now we head to Ansberg" Ash replied. It'd been far too long since he'd had a drink and some company and he was anxiously awaiting their return. "And we'll see if you can drink half as well as you fight." Giving Carver a wolfish grin, he jogged ahead to talk to Kane, leaving Carver alone with Syro for the first time.
Carver smiled to himself. He was determined to find out more about those he travelled with and Syro would be the perfect source of information, being the most junior warden excluding Carver himself of course.