Just a Little Extra Insurance
Disclaimer: I do not own DAO, or any of the ingame characters, organizations, nations, or religions present in the game. I do however, own Lucan Cousland, Drakkon Lancero, the Wolves of Nevarra Mercenary Legion, The Orlesian Dragon Brigade, all there members, and more as the story continues. Please, enjoy…Worship is also appreciated, but not a requirement…Yet.
JLEI
'I have an easy job for you' he says, thought a man while parrying aside a wicked looking blade. He followed the movement by slamming his mace in the side of his foes' head stunning it enough for him to slide his sword through an opening in the poorly made armor. The beast roared in pain and looked at him with eyes entirely filled with blind hatred as it brought both arms up to bring its massive great sword down and bisect him. Thankfully a pair of daggers suddenly appeared through its chest and covered the mans armor in its black blood. The creature slumped forward as its weapon fell from its hand.
'Escort someone to Ferelden and set up a Brigade outpost' he told me.
Instinct called him to turn and swing his mace down and into the head of a ugly little monster's skull before raising his sword to catch the blade of another sword. This time however a shield followed the blocked strike and forced him back a step. He barely had enough time to look up before the monster swung its blade to decapitate him. Ducking down he closed the distance between them and cut along its left leg with his blade. The creature's injured limb gave out and it slumped to the side as he spun around before he severed its head from body.
Grey eyes snapped up to focus on a flash of movement to his right. The man ducked under a barbed arrow which continued on to hit an Ash Warrior in the bicep. She cried out in pain before throwing her axe in the direction of the Darkspawn that had shot her.
'You're over qualified and need a break anyway' he finished.
The man paused a moment to catch his breath before looking up and towards a massive tower. Behind his draconian helmet eyes narrowed in rage at the sight of a burning tower.
'Just a little extra insurance for some high-born noble' Andraste's Flaming Sword you old bastard!
"Fall back! We're being overwhelmed!" Cried out one Commander of 100, Drakkon de Lancero, Knight of Orlais and mercenary captain as a massive bird took off from the tower.
Never should have come to this twice damned hind leg of a country!
"Drakkon!" Shouted a feminine voice he had become familiar with in the last few days.
Drakkon turned on an Antivan dime and came face to face with an Alpha of the taller monsters barreling down towards him, the massive waraxe held high above its head. The half-Orlesian mercenary knew that he would have no chance of blocking the strike nor parrying it, the momentum behind the swing would be strong enough to very well snap his wrist. Knowing that he moved his legs up and charged down towards it himself.
Bloody damned Tevinter slaves blood! I refuse to die at the hands of these dung smelling wannabe-dwarves!
Along the path he brought his into the shield of another of the taller Darkspawn and knocked it off its feet. The second after it fell he caught sight of one of the few surviving Mabari pounce on the creature and rip its throat out. Returning his focus on the Alpha closing in on him he couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. Unbidden an image of a young woman with short black hair came to mind offering up one of her small and rare smiles.
Cassandra. My dear cousin, I pray the Wardens stop this Blight before it reaches you.
Bellowing a war cry at the top of his lungs Drakkon threw his mace at the helmet of the creature. Behind the obsidian faceplate that resembled a Dragons maw Drakkon saw the mace create a dent in the metal of the helmet and cause the Alpha to stumble in its step. The waraxe came down meters before they would have crashed into one another and Drakkon was determined not to give it the chance to raise it up once again. Holding his longsword with both hands he brought the blade down and prepared to run through the mistake of creation. A small, but by no means light, figure tackling him however put a stop to those plans and caused him to lose hold of his weapon.
When Drakkon landed back first onto the blood-soaked muddy mess that was the ground of Ostagar he saw what had brought him down. It was one of the smaller beasts a Genlock, the ever-present wicked smile and mottled green-grey skinned face looked down at him. The monster's hands leapt to his helmet and worked to remove it from Drakkon's head. As he fought to prevent that from happening he cursed loudly to himself when he saw the Alpha beginning to rise back to its feet. The more intelligent Darkspawn turned its head to look at Drakkon's fallen form. For some reason Drakkon had the feeling that the creature's anger had increased before the Alpha reached to retrieve its two-handed weapon.
Narrowing his eyes the mercenary turned his full attention on the smaller but more immediate threat. Flattening out one hand a slot in his gauntlet and with a slight tilt was needed for a small knife to be ejected into his hand. Drakkon brought the into the neck of the Darkspawn. There was a gurgling sound and it spat out large black gobs of blood over his helmet. He then pushed the body off of him and rolled left in time to avoid being struck by the Alpha's axe and quickly rose to his feet. Reaching for his belt the half-Orlesian pulled out a pair of short knives. He closed in on the Darkspawn knowing that its two-handed axe would be useless in such close range. Drakkon drove the knife in his left hand between an opening in the Alpha's armor above what he assumed would be a lung. He then buried the second knife in its right shoulder, disabling its use of that arm and forcing it to drop the axe once again.
Drakkon made good use of that by bringing an armored knee into monsters gut followed by him backhanding it across the helmet. The Alpha fell to the ground in a heap at his feet. While the creature struggled to regain a proper footing Drakkon had already picked up the dropped axe off of the ground and had lifted it above his head before brining it back down and deep into the back of its original wielder. It was then that Drakkon fell to his knees in exhaustion and barely managed to support himself with the staff portion of the axe. A string of colorful Orlesian curses soon escaped his when it became obvious that he was very near if not at his limits.
Suddenly he both heard and felt massive footsteps approaching him. He had barely turned to face the sound when he saw the Ferelden's King Cailan grabbed off the ground by the largest creature he had ever seen save for one brief sighting of a High Dragon. The ogre, he was sure that was what they were called, promptly killed the man before throwing his body away like a common rag doll.
Whatever God or Gods exist in this world, damn you all for allowing me to accept coming here.
It was hard to believe that in just over a month and a half of his stay in Ferelden he was going to die fighting the very monsters his mother used to scare him with at night when he was a child and refused to go to sleep. How had he gone from that first day on the ship to here?
JLEI
This is the prologue to my first Dragon Age Fiction. I must say I originally intended to have it set during DAII but then I decided I may as well start in Origins given how I want this story to go. I have the basic plotline set up already, and it spread out through three different Books. This is Book One of a yet unnamed trilogy. This particular story will focus primarily on four characters; Drakkon, my own creation, Alistair, Zevran, and Lucan Cousland my own take on a Human Noble.
So how was the battle? I've been told in reviews that my fight scenes are done well but I'm still not totally confident in my abilities to write awesome battle scenes. So be as brutally honest as possible if you will, and I mean it. Failure to be totally honest with me in review will result in my pulling a Flemeth and popping out of the one thing you don't expect me to pop out of and force you to write an honest review.
Take note of one fact: Drakkon will not become a Grey Warden during this story. He's too loyal to Orlais and his Mercenary Outfit to ever willingly allow himself to become a Warden. I really like how I have him planned out so far. How many fics are there where one of the main characters is Orlesian to the bone? Leliana may and Riordan do not count as they consider themselves Ferelden instead. Spoiler, there will be some tension amongst the three of them.
I hope to have the first real chapter up by the end of Friday night but…Well I'll be the first to admit my record of updating is not always the most consistent or on time. Senior year of high school starts in just over a week so yeah, somewhat valid excuse. But considering other writers who attend colleges/universities and manage to update often that really kills anything I can use to justify my own pace.
By the way I have set up a poll for what three other Origins I should include in this fic. Its on my profile so go for it.
SpartanCommando, Out.