Chapter 3
Forward to the Battle for Ostagar
Deagor hissed as a burning feeling bit at his arm, nipping at his armour while he tried to look through the smoke that had emerged when the fire ball whacked the ground.
Mages are powerful creatures. If you don't take them out quickly you're in trouble. Deagor thought tiredly to himself, panting as he pulled his arm back up, his sword ready again.
"Deagor. You look tired." A familiar voice called to him, a slight trace of amusement mixed in with the tone.
"I'm fine Jackqueline."
Heh, not really... my body feels like collapsing at any second!
"Sure." The dwarf replied calmly, glancing over at the black haired human. "Anyway, don't you think it's odd?"
"That the beacon hasn't been lit yet?" Deagor frowned, his eyes landing on the tower before he was forced to turn back.
They needed to keep fighting on.
"That and the fact that Loghain's plan is so weak."
She noticed two. Good.
"I have the same feeling Jackqueline. Do you think we're being led on?" Deagor asked, ducking as he swung his sword out, clipping a Hurlock's side before slicing it's throat open.
"I have the feeling tha-"
Suddenly cheers cried throughout the battlefield, startling the Wardens into glancing around.
"Speak of the Devil." Jackqueline smirked, resting the back of her hand on her neck as she stared up into the flames, lighting the top of the tower. "I thought Alistair, Belladonna and Serild were never going t-"
Those cheers turned into screams of dread as he began to turn around slowly.
No.
NO!
Blood splatted from King Calian's body, flying across the field, landing directly on anyone nearby.
Deagor happened to be nearby at this point in time.
"Deagor! Don't faint on me now!"
Everything was turning black, the noise of the battlefield waring out as the noble struggled with himself.
All he felt was more of the warm blood splat on to his face.
Everything was RED.
"DEAGOR!"
A flash of pain slammed into his chest, the crimson soon turning into a new range of colours. Colours of the battlefield. A blur was in front of him, a painful grip rested on his face.
"Deagor if you don't get a hold of yourself we'll all die! Snap out of it!"
That sounds like Myra. How though? Wasn't she with Duncan?
Wait... Duncan had been with the King!
Suddenly a pained roar echoed in the battlefield, a red blur darting around the Orge, arrows appearing inside it's body, only seen by the bright, red feathers wrapped around the shafts. He watched in amazement as a shadow appeared on the Orge's shoulders, a set of blades crossing over into an 'x' shape, slicing the neck as the giant collapsed.
Dead.
The Orge was already dead.
"Th-That was Azathal!" Myra cried, startled.
...Wow...
The redhead's hands flickered, another two arrows lodged into two Genlocks approaching before pulling the blades that were stuck inside the Orge's neck out, slicing down a Hurlock's chest and throwing the other sword into an Emissary.
"Deagor! Myra! We need to flee!" Jackqueline's voice called the pair over.
"What?" Deagor murmured, startled.
"She's right." A woman stated as she approached, a boy following behind.
"This is Laria and Carver. Met them in the battle." Myra introduced hurriedly as she knelt by Duncan who was currently being looked over by Jackqueline.
"...You must... leave..."
"Duncan! What?!" Myra paled slightly before remembering herself.
"We've been betrayed." Jackqueline stated calmly, earning bewildered looks from the four humans. "While you were staring at Azathal I noticed Loghain turning his army away."
"We can't just leave all these people here." Deagor growled softly.
"I've informed a runner to call for a retreat. That's all we can do for now Deagor." Jackqueline replied coldly.
"That's not good enough! We need to save the others! They're getting slaughtered out there because they fought alongside us!"
"They fought to protect their home and they couldn't!" Jackqueline shouted, rising to her feet as she glared darkly at the human. "We must live to fight another day! So get over yourself and move those feet out of here!"
"Deo' she's right." Azathal's voice called from behind the small group, he sounded alarmed. "We'll die here. Those who can will run and those who can't are either crippled or dead. I'm sorry."
"You don't sound sorry Azathal!" Deagor snapped angrily at the elf.
He's willing to let everyone get slaughtered!
"I won't allow you to let everyone die! So get out of my way!" Deagor snarled, storming forward but the redhead stepped in front of him.
"Deagor... you must leave us behind..." Duncan stated weakly.
"They killed our King, Duncan! Our King! Our men! I won't let their deaths be in vain!"
No. I won't leave anyone behind again! I cannot do this again! Dammit I refuse!
"Everyone get back!" Myra ordered, stepping forward as she brought her hands up.
A dark aura began to cloud her hands, a fierce wind blowing as it charged towards the rushing flood of Darkspawn concurring the area around them. Ice flew around the woman, dancing down on to the Darkspawn.
More blood.
More violence.
More death.
"Deago-" Jackqueline's voice called out.
However the sharp pain in his neck instantly distracted him.
Then he blacked out.
~End of Chapter~
