DRAGON AGE: Anonymous
The silver-plated war-machine charged towards the sounds of the horde deeper within the left fork of the Deep Roads. The clanging of steel boots against the cracked stone set off more growls than he expected, causing him to stop dead in tracks at the first sight of shadows beyond the turn that waits. He didn't see just any Darkspawn, but he saw an Ogre followed by genlocks and hurlocks alike. He pondered his chances for a moment, hoping this to be a worthy and fatal challenge. He felt the taint within him, its reassuring warmth caused a smile to flicker across his covered face, his steel-obscured vision giving him satisfaction; hopefully it would lower his chances.
He came here seeking death with his family; they shared the same blood, how can they not be family? Even as the blood killed him, even though he was just at war with them, he wished nothing more but to be at home, where acquired the blood. Many of the order saw him as out of his mind. Decades ago, he had hated the Darkspawn, used their blood against them, but as the years pasted and his body whittled, he found them more as a family than the order ever was to him. He knew he was dying, so why not die amongst his family?
As he pondered his past, the first of the Darkspawn emerged, the two hurlocks being slashed down before they could growl their discontent. He turned the corner, only to be met with the horns of an ogre, sending him backwards into the cracked stone walls. He let himself fall onto the ground to avoid the ogre's grasp, spinning off to the right to avoid a vicious stomp and to claim his sword which skittered away mere moments ago. As he brought it up to parry another sword, he only met with a pale forearm sending him into the air. Making sure he held onto his sword, rolled at his descent to narrowly avoid a well-placed arrow from a nearby archer; Hurlock or genlock he could not tell.
As he rose up to his feet he swiftly ducked another swipe of the ogre and followed with a horizontal slash with his sword, nearly opening the ogre's stomach. As the ogre roared in pain, he sidestepped to avoid more arrows, onto to be met with a genlock wielding two daggers. Not able to parry the slashes, he let his blood-stained armor take the hits. As his armor barely blocked the penetration of the blades, he rose his leg up to allow his boot to meet the genlock's face, sending it on its back. Not able to take the life just yet, he had to dive to once again avoid the ogre, his peripheral vision hindered by the grated helmet. He brought his blade up only to feel the surging pain of a toxic-filled arrow piercing his shoulder muscle. Not allowing it to affect his combat, he charged straight for the ogre, catching it off guard which allowing his plunge his heavy blade straight the ogre; only to feel another presence behind him, the genlock!
His reaction speed not quick enough to avoid both blades, he only received the sound of a toxic-coated edge to brush up against his armor, adding yet another scratch as he threw himself to the side. He smashed the hilt right into the genlock's demented nose and plunged his blade straight down through its would-be heart. He turned around, the faint lighting of the torches barely allowing him to make out the shadow of a fleeing genlock… and about a dozen charging hurlock, but in the opposite direction. This raised the question of what other presence would willingly come here and anger the horde. He rubbed his armored chin as he thought, only coming to the conclusion of other grey wardens… but why could he not feel them?