Chapter Four: Hinterlands Hijinks Part 2
Leliana had spent much of her morning reading through many reports from her scouts when she finally caught a break. Using what little free time she had, she decided that drinking some of Josephine's tea and reading through The History of the Chantry once more would give her comfort. She'd reflected on Barbaras's words before he left, glad to find another, other than Cassandra that was so stalwart in his faith.
"Good, morning, Leli. I see you've been busy." a voice said, Leliana looking up and smiling when she realized it was Josephine.
"Good morning, Josie. Yes. Reports have been filing in from my agents and I found myself restless, so I decided to start early. How've you been sleeping? I know the lodgings aren't what you're used to…." Leliana teased, holding back a giggle at her friend's blushing face.
"The lodgings are just fine, Leli." she sniffed, "Besides, there are far more important things to worry about beyond a scratchy bed and uncomfortable pillows. But I will say I have an incredibly stuffy room. You know, now that I think about it, I'm sure the corner of my room is leaking! It's preposterous, I-" Josephine stopped when she realized what she was doing, Leliana looking at her with a knowing grin.
"Anyways, I have a report here. From Cassandra. I thought you might want to see it." Josephine said, it was her turn to smile when Leliana grabbed the small pile of parchment from her friend almost faster than the eye could see.
"I'll leave you to it then, Leli. Perhaps we could eat together midday?….I could invite Cullen too…." It was useless. Leliana was nothing if not focused when it came to her role as spymaster. Josephine walked back towards the Chantry, knowing that Cullen was probably going to have to drag both of them away from their work so they remembered to eat.
Leliana,
Things are going well here in the Hinterlands so far. We recovered Mother Giselle and she is on her way back to Haven as we speak. She is ready to work with you in order to get a list of Chantry members that may appeal to reason started. There is much to do here, as I'm sure your scouts have already reported. I'll leave the rudimentary details to them, but we managed to strike a deal with Master Dennet, the details of which I've sent to Cullen. Roselinde seems to be growing more confident in her abilities thanks to the training of Barbaras; as relentless as it is. What she lacks in battle prowess she seems to make up for in spirit. Our forces here have settled on calling him the "Black Wolf". I would hesitate to embrace the name, had I not seen him in combat. I do not yet know if I trust him to be connected to Thonrath as you so believe, but his abilities far surpass anything a normal man can do. I also find his devotion respectable. We'll be investigating a supposed cult in the hills next. Send a prayer to the Maker for us.
Your dear friend,
-C. P
Leliana smiled at her friend's words. She always loved reading reports from Cassandra. They were straight to the point but with careful observation you could observe the woman she hid just below the surface. She moved onto the next report, no doubt one of her scouts reporting the "rudimentary details" Cass had mentioned. It was as she was shuffling the papers around that a small one fell out. It was a small piece of parchment, wrapped almost look a scroll with a little red ribbon. She furrowed her brow, slowly untying the ribbon and flattening out the small page. It read:
Sister Leliana,
How do you do? I found myself thinking back to our conversation on keeping faith in times such as these. I hope you took my advice to heart. It would be tragic for your god to lose the devotion of a faithful one such as yourself. On the subject of your God, I was hoping you could give me more insight. Cassandra expressed shock and awe when I gave offerings to my gods. Do you not do the same? How does he look upon those who have sinned? What role does Andraste play in the grand scheme? Also, I find myself curious about this legend of Thonroth he you seem to have attached me to. You, of course are a busy woman so I understand if you do not get back to me. This conversation can even wait until my return. I simply find conversation with you stimulating.
May the Gods blessings smile upon you,
-B.H.D
Leliana's eyebrows rose in surprise. Then she smiled. Her interest was heightened to say the least. Stimulating, hm?
OO
Cullen was mulling over the report which Cassandra had given. If Master Dennet was to help the Inquisition, he had requested watch towers that would better protect the Redcliffe farmers. Cullen only hoped that the new recruits pouring in from the Hinterlands or existing forces had some experience with carpentry. Nelson, his lieutenant from Kirkwall who insisted he followed Cullen rather than the order, had assured him there would be someone. After all, what farm boy hadn't helped his father repairing and fixing things around the stead? Nelson could attest.
"I just wish we didn't have to jump through hopes to procure something as simple as horses." Cullen said ruefully. Nelson shrugged.
"I grew up in the Hinterlands, even visited Master Dennet a few times. His request seems amicable, he really cares about the people of Redcliffe." Nelson said. Cullen nodded in agreement.
"Yes, I suppose you're right. Send word to the men, any and all within the forces capable of carpentry need to gather and move out. Give them the locations Cassandra specified as well." Cullen commanded, Nelson firmly saluting before going to do his duty. Cullen sighed heavily. Even in his little room in the chantry, he could feel the pressures building. There was so much to do and with demons spilling out of the sky, every moment felt wasted, no matter the cause. Josephine entered his room once again, a smile on her lips.
"Um, hello Lady Josephine. Was there something else you needed?"
"Well, Leliana found this letter in a pile of reports you sent her, it seems as if you probably didn't mean for it to be there." Josephine said with a teasing tone, handing Cullen a slightly crumpled note. Cullen took it with a look of confusion and raised brow. Then he read the works. His face flushed red. Oh sweet maker.
"I-um. Well I just-" Cullen sputtered, making Josephine laugh. He'd been doing a lot of that lately mostly at his expense.
"Yes, yes. I'm sure you just wanted to check on her. Your chivalry is endearing, Cullen. Cute even." she said, leaving the room seeming to hold back a giggle. Cullen wanted to die of embarrassment. Roselinde had made an impression on him. He remembered being briefly shocked at her simple beauty when she first walked into the war room. He also found her humor and spirit amusing and admirable and in quiet moments, found himself wondering how she was doing in the Hinterlands. Enough to inspire an attempt at a letter. Unfortunately, he had little talent for the written word and gave up. Now, he'd have to endure endless teasing from Leliana and Josephine. Great.
OO
Barbaras had liked the old horse Master. Of course, he didn't vocalize his opinion, but he respected his demand that the Redcliffe people be taken care of before he provided the inquisition with horses. Roselinde had talked to the daughter of Dennet, going so far as to complete frivolous race courses she'd set up all over the farm. Barbaras didn't protest, only snorted and looked over his prayer book. He glanced up to see her laughing and smiling as she road the horse, Varric on the back no doubt cracking jokes and causing the laughter. At least it's good for morale. Cassandra ordered the regiment of Inquisition soldiers to make camp nearby and kill any threats that would harm the farmers, putting them into the good graces of Dennet's wife. Barbaras nearly rolled his eyes when Dennet had offered Roselinde herself a horse. Her reaction had been far too joyous and childlike for someone of her station. She picked a strong Fereldan Forder which she gave the distasteful name of Brownie. He just hoped she could shoot a bow from a-top the horse half-decently. Otherwise, he'd have to teach her.
After affairs at the Farm were wrapped up, they headed for the hills, where a Cult was rumored to hide. Of course, between them and the supposed cult were only a small army of conflicting mages, templars and unsealed rifts. Barbaras kept a close eye on Roselinde throughout their battles. He observed little things that he'd need to remind her of, but she seemed to have a decent grasp on the basics. He couldn't let her become complacent. During once such battle, they were fighting demons from a rift when Roselinde was knocked down from a particularly heavy strike from a Shade demon. The demon was easily dispatched by Cassandra and Solas rushed in to heal, but Roselinde waved him off. She still had to close the rift. She did so, falling to her knees afterwards with labored breath.
"How many times must I tell you to be aware of your surroundings, girl?" Barbaras growled. Roselinde looked at him with a glare,
"Well I'm sorry I was focused on watching your-" Barbaras narrowed his eyes at her, stopping her rebuttal.
"I and every other capable warrior here are more than able to watch our own backs. It is dangerous when we must instead keep an eye out for you. You're the Herald. Stop acting like such a petulant child." Barbaras said coldly. She did nothing but grumble in reply. Solas had an intriguing look on his face as he slowly healed her.
Barbaras stayed behind the group, watching their flank while Pilate soared far above their heads, keeping an eye out for danger on the road ahead.
"Why do you treat her so harshly, Barbaras?" Solas's light voice broke his concentration. Barbaras glanced at him,
"Because it is necessary. Are you of same mind as the dwarf? Do you think I should coddle her, too?" he asked. After a while Solas shook his head.
"No. I understand the necessity. Your treatment of her, however, seems to go beyond what is necessary." Solas said. Ahhh, I see now.
"Questioning my motives now, are we elf?" Barbaras asked with a dangerous look. Solas shook his head.
"No. I think you're trustworthy, Barbaras. I'm just curious about your motivations for treating her so poorly." Solas said.
"Look up, Solas. There are demons falling out of the sky and they sure as hell aren't waiting for Roselinde to stumble her way through a battlefield. This conversation is over." Barbaras growled, walking slightly ahead of Solas. Nosy Elf.
OO
Solas watched Barbaras walk. He lied of course. He didn't trust Barbaras, he couldn't. There was something big. Something he wasn't telling them. He sensed immense magical power within him, something that transcended the limits of a single person. Solas wondered with intense curiosity what secrets the man from the sky held.
OO
When they arrived at Winter watch Tower they met a woman who stood in the front, dressed in robes and regarding them with a shrewd look on her face. Roselinde was not in the mood. She was tired, sore, and certainly not in the mood to talk to people.
"You…you're who they call the Herald of Andraste." the woman said. Roselinde held back her sigh.
"Yes, that's what people call me." she confirmed. The woman narrowed her eyes.
"And what do you believe you are? The Maker has not told me." she said. Great. The rumors of a cult weren't just rumors. Roselinde thought carefully.
"Yes, I am the Herald of Andraste." she said with confidence.
"Then it is true that you hold the power from the sky? Can you control the rifts?"
"I smell Demons." Barbaras warned, drawing his sword.
"I can seal them, yes." Roselinde said. She hoped to the Maker this wasn't a trap.
"Then show me your power." she said ominously, the gate suddenly opening as if willed to by the woman. Roselinde held back a shiver.
"Towards the back of the tower, I can sense a rift in the Fade." Solas whispered as they slowly made their way through. Roselinde felt her anxiety lessen. As she looked left and right she saw that most of the people there were refugees, clearly desperate for a safe place away from the conflict. Their faces were sullen and their tones were hushed, but she saw something change within them as she walked past. There was a glimmer of hope in their eyes. Their shoulders seemed to straighten slightly, as if the weight of war and demons was slightly lifted. This was the effect of the Herald of Andraste. This was who she had to be now. She shrugged her bow into her hands.
"Let's kill some demons, shall we?"
OO
Varric was proud of the girl. She was standing tall, maybe taller than she realized. Maybe even tall enough to make him believe she was what she said she was. What they discovered in the back of the tower was yet another rift. Barbaras charged in without saying a word, attacking the demons like a man possessed. Varric hung back, slinging bolt after bolt into the Demon's flesh. Cassandra charged to Barbaras's side, bashing and slashing the demon's into dust. The two seemingly fought well together. A wraith was staring down the two frontline warriors. Varric shot a bolt, the Wraith flinched out of its attack. An arrow from Roselinde finished it off. He cast a glance at Roselinde. She flashed him a grin. She reminded him almost too much of Hawke. Varric felt the ground shake beneath him and dived out of the way just as a Terror Demon burst from it. Solas came to the rescue, freezing the ugly creature. Varric cranked Bianca as far back as she'd go. He fired, the creature bursting into icy chunks. Cassandra and Barbaras were tangled with a Rage demon, Barbaras hiding behind Cassandra and her shield whenever the thing blasted fire. He saw Roselinde being fast approached by two shade demons. She killed one with an arrow but the other got in close. She learned her lesson, rolling out of range of its strike and firing yet another shot. It turned to dust. She was one hell of a quick study. With a powerful strike from Cassandra and a finisher from Barbaras the rage demon was rendered nothing but dust.
"Finish it up, Butterfingers!" Varric called as Solas destroyed the last wraith with a blast of ice. Roselinde ran up raising her hand in a triumphant shout. With a burst of green light, the rift was closed.
OO
Most were in awe of Roselinde's power and the woman, who now introduced herself as Speaker Anais and pledged herself and her people to the Inquisiton. Roselinde asked her to go forth and spread the word of the Inquisition. A Smart move Cassandra thought. Having religious support of any kind at this point would help their cause. She found that she and Barbaras were fighting incredibly well together. Granted, his ferocious nature was still a little off-putting but she could respect someone who could handle a blade.
"You fought well, Barbaras." she said to him, as they followed one of the Speaker's followers to a room they'd be staying in.
"You too, Seeker." Barbaras said simply. Surprising. She expected him to lash out in some way. Pilate squawked at her from his shoulder. She smiled. What a funny little bird.
With the sun setting, the group settled into the watch tower. The morale of the place had been improved drastically thanks to the party's actions. Refugees and cultist alike spoke with fervor and hope. The Inquisition could fight the demons! Varric took Roselinde to their makeshift Tavern, as if bringing her around for a victory tour. Solas had gone off to where the rift had been, hoping to learn something from the Fade. Cassandra stood aboe on the battlements, watching as Roselinde was swarmed with curious onlookers and grateful refugees. Varric was no doubt smooth talking the crowd, increasing morale even further. She had first hated Varric when she met him in Kirkwall. He was deceptive, manipulative, and would take everything you had with a smile and having somehow convinced you that it was in your favor. For all the things he was, however, she could admire how he helped the people. She glanced to her right only to see that Barbaras and Pilate had appeared, as if by magic.
"There is a young lord here, waiting for his betrothed. She hasn't come. I'm going to do some scouting, take a look at the hills and into a basin I saw on the way here." he reported. Cassandra raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? You plan on going alone? In the dark?" she asked incredulously.
"I do. I'll be back before morning." he said simply, moving to leave. She grabbed his arm.
"It is too dangerous to go alone, Barbaras. You must know this." she said. Why was he being so difficult? Barbaras turned to look at her with an annoyed expression in his eyes.
"Quite aware of the dangers, Seeker. Fortunately, I'm more dangerous. Unhand me. Now, please." he said, his tone neutral but on the edge of annoyance. She let go of his arm with a sigh.
"Fine. Do as you must. Do not blame me if you die alone, in the dark." she huffed. His face mask twitched. No doubt he was grinning.
"I am a Hunter Reaper, Lady Cassandra. I don't die in the dark. I become one with it." With that, the Hunter Reaper jumped down from the battlements, scaring the daylights out of the guards. No doubt he did that to everyone. She wanted to go with him so that he wasn't alone but instinct told her it was better she remain here. She took a deep breath. I suppose I'll begin planning. They had several factions to deal with, after all.
OO
Barbaras loved the thrill of the hunt. He couldn't deny it any more than the fact that he breathed air. It was the accepting of that darkness that had brought him closer to Dice. He sprinted and slunk through the shadows, Pilate flying above him in complete silence. He made not a sound as he traversed the hilly, forested terrain. Just as he was trained. Just as Agamemnon had taught him. Agamemnon. His old mentor. He hadn't thought of him for a long time. He purged his mind of all thoughts, focusing all his spirit and magic essence into his senses. He could hear the haunting call of birds of the night, the occasional chirp of crickets and even the warning growl of a wolf. Not that the wolves would approach him. They knew better. Light caught his eyes as he slunk through the trees. He stopped just behind a rock, scoping out the scene. With just a cursory glance he could tell they were bandits. He grinned from underneath his face mask. Now came his prey. There were only five, a bowman, a mage and three swordsmen from the looks. Childs-play. They had been drinking from an entire barrel, no doubt something they stole from fleeing refugees. Even better. He pulled out his crossbow waiting until the group erupted into drunken laughter to deploy it to its full size. Without hesitation he pulled the trigger. The bolt made the mage's head almost burst on impact, pinning him to a nearby tree from the immense power of the crossbow. There was a brief silence. They stared at their now dead compatriot, blood pouring from the dead mage's eviscerated head. They looked to where the bolt came from. Nothing. Then a black shadow appeared behind the bowman. His comrades couldn't say a word before his throat flashed red. The dead man clawed at his wound, death quickly extinguishing the light from his eyes. The swordsmen began to shout, scrambling for their weapons. Barbaras jumped onto the back of one man with a growl, three stabs to the heart with his dagger sending him to the Maker. The bigger swordsman had managed to get a hold of his great sword but Pilate came swooping down with a shriek, scratching at the bandit's eyes. He screamed in pain but was silenced by one of Barbaras's throwing knives to his throat. The last one, a girl, faced him defiantly. She held two short swords, her eyes narrowed and fierce. The drink hadn't gotten to her yet. Barbaras stood over the bigger man, holding his dagger in his flesh hand. Blood dripped from the blade before splattering on the dirt as the two killers stared each other down.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Your Reaper." Barbaras said menacingly. He rushed forward with blinding speed attacking ferociously with his long dagger. It was all the woman could do to defend as Barbaras's quick and powerful strikes threatened to break her defense. Barbaras could feel her panic. He relished in it. She kicked out, hoping to set him off balance. He jumped, his metatide arm collapsing into a cannon. Her eyes widened. A boom echoed throughout the night. Her right arm went flying. She screamed in pain. Barbaras landed on the ground, closing the distance. He suddenly blinked out of existence. The woman looked around wildly, screaming from the pain of her grievous injury. Every shadow seemed to move as she spun around, her remaining sword held in front of her like a protective charm. She then screamed in anguish and fear. It was no longer a question of if she would die. Only when. The night grew silent. No birds called. No wolves howled. No crickets chirped. It was as if the stars themselves had been extinguished. She no longer screamed. Even her own ragged breathing terrified her. She began running. It didn't matter where she ran. She just had to get away. Branches whipped her face as she sped through the forest. Once she got to open ground she'd be safe. She'd see him coming from any direction. A black mass suddenly dropped from the trees above in front of her. It was him. Her Reaper.
"Found you." he said ominously, his tone terrified her. It was almost as if he enjoyed this.
"Y-you monster." she whimpered. He took out his crossbow. It extended with a click and some clinking sounds.
"No." he said. A crossbow bolt pierced her skull before she could reply.
"I'm your worst fucking nightmare."
Barbaras back-tracked to the Bandit camp. The woman had some gold and other valuable baubles he could no doubt trade at the crossroads. He searched the others, finding similar items of value and a decent sum of gold. A successful hunt to say the least. That was, until he saw what was beyond the fire and their tents. An entire pile of refugees amassed in what equated to a natural ditch. There had to be at least twenty bodies stacked one atop the other. He could see children in the pile, their faces twisted in horror no child should have to experience. He spat at the nearest bandit corpse. Damned scum. He would have to report this location to Inquisition forces tomorrow so the victims could get a proper burial. The bandits no doubt killed them as they fled to the watchtower which gave Barbaras a sinking feeling. His instincts told him the Lord's betrothed was going to be somewhere in that pile. He was about to turn away from the heap of death when he heard something move faintly. An arm twitched near the top of the pile. Then, an arm poked out before reaching out feebly. It was on the smaller side and incredibly dirty.
"…Help me, please" he heard a feeble voice call. It sounded like a small girl. She sounded incredibly weak, on the verge of death from what Barbaras guessed. He widened his eyes. He darted over to the pile, moving bodies with ease until he found the source of the arm. A girl, dirty and disheveled with a stab wound to her gut. Barbaras immediately carried her over to the fire, muttering a chant before healing magic coursed through his veins and out his right hand. She was too weak to cry out but she winced as the flesh began to mend back together. After a few moments, the wound was healed but he knew she would be incredibly weak from blood loss. He set her against the nearest log, producing a piece of bread and water from his pack. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. He offered the bread to her but she didn't react. She just stared straight ahead, her hair caked in too much blood and dirt to tell what color it was. She seemed a peasant from what she wore, a simple jerkin and trousers now disheveled and torn hideously. He then looked closer at her eyes and realized why she didn't react. They were milky white, she was blind.
"Are you blind, girl?" he asked her. She shivered in response. He took off his crossbow holster and wrapped her in his coat.
"Y-yes." she said numbly. Her voice was small but he sensed an ounce of strength in it. She'd managed to survive as long as she did after all. Climbing to the top of the pile of corpses with a stab wound would be a daunting task for anyone, let alone a small girl such as herself.
"Do you have a name?" he asked her.
"Robin." she murmured.
"Robin, hm? My name's Barbaras. Here, take this." Barbaras said, putting the piece of bread in her small hand.
"It's bread. Once you've had a few bites, I'll give you water." Barbaras said. She nodded slowly, taking small but hungry bites of the bread. It wasn't long before hunger took over the girl's instincts as she began consuming the bread at a rapid pace. It reminded Barbaras of his early days. He unscrewed his water jerkin, angling her head with one hand while pouring the water with the other. She nearly drank the whole think before she made a noise. He brought it away from her lips as she coughed and sputtered. He put it back into pack. It looked as if he wouldn't be back before the morning.
"T-thank you for saving me." Robin managed to get out despite her hacking. Barbaras said nothing, instead getting up and going through the tents. He found the least disgusting bedroll and laid it in front of the fire.
"I'm going to put you into a bedroll now. Get some sleep, your body needs to recover." Barbaras said. She nodded. He picked her up once again, setting her gently into the bedroll, making sure she was completely covered before going over to his coat and crossbow. He was about to scout the perimeter to make sure the Bandits didn't have any friends that were coming back soon when he heard the girl say something. He moved closer to her.
"What?" he said.
"Can you stay here? I'm scared." she said. Barbaras could nearly hear the quivering in her face. This was natural after all. He couldn't imagine the horror she'd endured.
"I can, Robin." he said firmly, sitting on the log nearest to her. He took out his crossbow and deployed it to its full size and set it on his lap. He closed his eyes and focused all his energy into his hearing. Pilate took off from his shoulder without a sound; they had done this routine many times before. He felt something small clasp his boot at the ankle. He looked down. Robin's hand clutched it like a lifeline.
"Sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were here." she said quietly. Barbaras almost smiled.
"Do as you must, Robin. I am here."
