Cousland: Retreat
His muscles protested his decision to follow through with each powerful swing. The results were exceptional for driving the darkspawn back, to make the fiends reconsider their own attacks and give the diminished company some breathing room. He pulled his sword back into a guard stance, gore splashing onto the ground he was moving over. He shifted his left, placed his weight on his hip, and spun to bite his sword deep into the gut of a hurlock advancing on his right side.
He twisted the blade and yanked backwards; taking the hurlocks innards back with him. He kept the follow-up by pushing the sword with a powerful thrust into the next hurlock, his boots shifting on the ground as he adjusted to the new position.
Then the world went right-side up and over as the explosion rippled down through the rock, the sheer force of the resulting vibration causing him to stumble to a knee to keep himself from going completely prone. Around him, Alistair used the onslaught of a genlock to shield himself from falling rock. He grunted as the combined weight grew heavier and heavier. With a mighty shout and shove, he pushed both off his shield and dove over the prone form of Surana, the mage haven't had kept her feet during the earth's rumble.
Aeducan was beside Cousland, the dwarf steady and still able to throw out his shield against the jaws and throats of the darkspawn in jarring stuns that left their guard down for a second, quick thrust of his sword. His stand enabled Cousland to regain his footing.
The explosion did its job, the rock face crumbled over the excavation, crushing the emerging darkspawn underneath. The remaining darkspawn that the warriors hadn't pushed back to the tunnel's opening fought with a renewed frenzy, as if they realized how desperate their new predicament was.
Faintly, Cousland heard a scream echo on the winds, but his attention couldn't be diverted, not now when he was needed to press the advantage, to offer Alistair and Surana a chance to return to the fight.
"Ah!" Surana yelped as she used her staff to upright herself. Her right leg buckled, the ankle trembling as the mage's grip became the only thing keeping her up.
"Are you all right?" Alistair reached to brace her but the mage shook her head with a pained expression.
"I'll be fine, Alistair. Help Aedan and Duran." She managed to speak, her voices rough as she ground them out through gritted teeth. She did a hopping sort of twist and flexed her fingers towards Cousland. Blue streaks of magic curled around his shoulders, driving away the exhaustion that had sat there. Refreshed, Cousland dove back into the fray.
Out of the corner of his eye, as he jammed the pommel of his sword against a hurlock's skull, driving the beast down to its knees, a large shape crawled down the cliff, Surana's spells lit up the creature's cargo and Cousland's heart seized in a momentary panic as he recognized that mop of dark hair.
Brosca laid limp in the creatures first two legs, her hair damp from blood streaking down her temple.
"Natia!" Cousland finished off the hurlock. He jumped over another hurlock's struggling form and lifted the sword high for a deadly swing at the creature - a large spider that reared up as he charged. The creature's mandibles spread as the thing hissed a warning, venom dripped from fangs that were longer than Cousland's hands. "Away from her, creature! You'll not have a feast of dwarf flesh tonight!"
He thrust forward with the sword, he aimed for the ropey spider thread that kept Brosca connected to the spider. Surprisingly, the spider allowed him to free the prize. It didn't move to reclaim Brosca as the dwarf fell the last few feet, crumpling on the ground before Cousland.
He gave the spider a glance as he knelt before Brosca. He felt for a pulse, and it was there, but it was a shaky, fluttering pulse that scared him more than any wound could. "Neria!" He called over his shoulder as he pushed Brosca's hair up to see where she'd been struck.
Surana was at his side a moment later, her staff bathing them all in a bluish light. She hadn't seen the shadow of the spider yet, Cousland thought, as her attention went immediately to the unconscious dwarf. As she tended to Brosca, Cousland returned his gaze to the spider, his muscles poised to sweep his sword in an arc to drive the spider back up the wall.
Yet, the spider was not there.
"You!" Cousland exclaimed, stopping the blade inches from its intended target.
The Witch of the Wilds glared at him, her gold eyes glittering in the glow from the staff and the healing magics. " 'Tis how you thank someone for saving your dwarf's life? I will have to reconsider doing so in the future."
"How did you-?"
"That is not a question I have time to answer; unless of course you are willing to lose your lives to the darkspawn rapidly approaching from the south?" Her eyebrow arched.
"The south?" He reflexively glanced towards Ostagar, and saw the reassuring flame of the tower's beacon licking up into the night's darkness.
"Yes. Soon, the horde will have crashed over the last survivors and flood this ravine like a terrible river." The Witch tapped his shoulder with her staff. "There is a path up, not too much further north from here. You'll know it by the tangled roots of bloodweed. T'would be difficult to carry her the length but you managed to get down here. I am sure you can achieve the same prowess leaving." The tone of her voice suggested otherwise.
"What?" Cousland turned back to stare at her. "What are you talking about?"
"We really do not have time for these questions." Already, purple ribbons of magic were curling around the witch's legs, slowly wrapping up around her body. "Stay here and see for yourself if you do not believe me. If you do not care for your own life, 'tis no concern of mine."
"What?" He asked again, but she couldn't answer for she had taken the guise of the giant spider. She didn't spare him a backwards glance as she crawled back up the cliff. He watched the spider until the creature's form was blended into the shadows littering the ravine's side. He turned to study the line of the ravine until it curved into the chokepoint the King's army had used.
He saw giant figures breaking past the wooden barricades.
Maker's mercy, the witch was right. He whirled on the spot and knelt down to shake Surana from her healing trance. She responded with a glare, the magic cutting out as her concentration was broken.
"What are you-?"
He cut her off. "No time, we need to move. Now." He tried to jerk her to her feet, but she yanked her arm out of his grasp. She opened her mouth to retort but he forced her to look down the length of the ravine, towards the battle. Her shoulders tensed and when she looked back to him, fear shone in her eyes.
"Exactly." Cousland agreed. He spared a glance to Brosca. "Can we move her?"
"I- she has some internal damage, the explosion-"
"Can she be moved?"
"I - yes. Yes, I believe I managed to stabilize the worst of it." Surana nodded and pushed herself back up.
"What about you?" He jerked his chin toward her ankle.
She followed the gesture and knelt to clap her wrist about her ankle. Vivid blue light spilled from between her fingers and when she stood, she looked drained, but she was placing weight on that leg. "I'll be fine. I'll follow you."
Cousland didn't argue. He knelt to scoop up Brosca in a hold that had her draped about his shoulders. He could steady her balance with one hand and keep his sword out with the other, though he knew it'd be of little help. Without his full weight behind the swings, the two-hander was more hindrance than help. He made his way back to Alistair and Aeducan, the latter rushed towards him as he approached.
"Brosca?"
"Lives, but if we don't hurry; we won't."
Aeducan frowned at that, but he only had to glance behind Cousland to see what the noble meant. "I see." If the dwarf was worried, he showed none of it. "What's the next course of action?"
"Sarim can see better than us in the dark, and I think if we move fast enough, we can get up and out of the ravine before the horde swoops in."
Alistair peered up the sheer cliffs. "How are we going to do that? Sprout wings and fly?"
"There's a path. Sarim can know it by the tangle of bloodweed about it." He looked to the mabari who wagged his tail in eager response. "Move swift, boy, we have little time."
Sarim barked and took off ahead of them, keeping close enough so they could see him, but far enough that he could spot the path quicker than their slow-moving pace could.
Alistair took the lead after Sarim, then Cousland and Surana, with Aeducan bringing up the rear. Sure enough, a hundred meters from the tunnel, Sarim barked out again and waited near a tangle of deep red vines that seemed to have eaten into the rock itself. When Surana raised her staff out, they could make out the shadow of a path, hidden back behind the cliff that curved up to the forest above. Cousland adjusted Brosca's weight and stepped onto it after Surana, carefully following the mage's unsure steps as those would be the easiest for him to take as well.
At the top, the elves ran up, both looking worse for wear. Tabris' leathers were stained with blood and her blond hair was matted against her skull. A nasty bruise was forming up alongside the right side of her jaw and her left arm hung limp. Mahariel ran with a limp; his right hand sported nasty burns, the splash of the magic arcing up his arm in a spiral pattern until just under his collarbone. Blood dripped from a laceration on his cheekbone.
The witch was right behind them, using the wolf-guise he remembered seeing outside the camp. She changed back as soon as her footsteps brought her into the circle of Surana's staff-light. "Where are the others?" She asked, her voice a bit breathless.
"Dead." Mahariel stated plainly, his attention on the oncoming darkspawn. "We might make it up to the Hinterlands if we push hard tonight."
"If you want to be able to fire a bow again, you'll let me tend to that hand first." Surana warned. "Brosca still needs care, and I think Tabris' arm is broken?" She looked to the city-elf for clarification. Tabris nodded. "Therefore-"
"Mother's hut isn't that far." The witch piped up. Cousland wished he'd remembered her name, but that was pushed away as Mahariel jumped into the conversation again.
"Your mother's hut is south of us, back towards the Horde. If the army was overrun … then the force of the darkspawn was greater than Loghain planned for… if there are survivors, they'll head north, away from the battle."
"Lothering is north." Cousland mused. He tried to keep the worry of Fergus' fate from his mind, much like he thought Alistair was trying to do concerning the Grey Wardens. "It sounds like our best bet."
"Mother told me to guide you back to her hut! She has magic that can keep the darkspawn at bay while you recover!"
Mahariel turned to the witch. "Do you have these magic spells that your mother does?" He nodded as if he expected her answer to be a sputtered no and pressed on. "Then what good would those spells be for us fighting back into the Horde to reach her? We must think of our own lives first and then we will re-group and re-plan." He said the last bit to Alistair who hesitated a long while before offering a jerky nod.
Morrigan, the witch, turned her golden gaze south as well and a shadow of insecurity washed over her. Cousland wondered how young she was as he watched the struggle play out over her face. Steely determination won out and a mask slid over her beautiful features. She glanced back to the group. "Very well. I know of one nearby spring we could use to wash wounds and allow the wounded time to recover." She gripped her own staff tightly. She flicked her attention to Tabris, and to the elf's arm. "You will need that set before your mage can heal the bones."
Tabris winced, and looked to Surana, probably to get an assurance that they could set the bone later, after. Surana confirmed that Morrigan was right, though. She approached Tabris and chuckled as the younger elf made a face, but offered her arm up to be set. She did cry out as Surana quickly went about setting the arm and placing it against a brace that Morrigan help up, but afterwards stayed silent.
True to her word, Morrigan led them north; away from her mother's hut and away from the darkspawn. The blaze of the beacon faded the further they walked, and Cousland's legs felt like lead as the witch ducked underneath a fallen tree. Tucked into a hideaway was a small spring that bubbled gently. When Cousland splashed the water over his face, he was surprised to note that it was warm despite the cold night.
"Mother calls them hotsprings. They stay warm all year around, no matter snow or blazing sun." Morrigan informed. She sat near him, soaking bandages.
Cousland nodded, then moved aside to let Sarim drink deeply of the spring's waters. When he turned, he saw that Surana, Mahariel, and Aeducan had taken the company's cloaks and what little moss they could find to make a makeshift bed.
Mahariel undid his belt as Cousland approached, tossing it aside. Cousland heard the tinkling of vials in the attached pouch as it landed on the soft ground. "Not much room, but if we stay close we can preserve body heat and keep hidden by the thicket around us." The suggestion sounded like Mahariel had done exactly that more than a few times. Cousland must have made a face, for the elf allowed a rare, dry chuckle to form. "Hunting bands during winter would sleep together for warmth. It is common amongst the Dalish, for the clan is family and family is life out in the Wilds." His eyes grew sad at the last bit. "I will take first watch."
Cousland couldn't find the drive to protest, to do the noble thing and offer up his sleep for first watch. Instead, he fell heavy onto the makeshift bed and felt Alistair stir behind him, the templar already snoring away. Sarim curls up at his legs, the massive mabari head resting up on his thigh. Cousland's eyes close to the sight of Surana bending over Brosca.
His eyes opened when sunlight seared his sight. Then arguing voices, low enough to be nothing more than heated murmuring drew his attention and pulled him more awake.
"You are not coming with us!" That voice was Alistair, it rang shaky but filled with passion.
"On the contrary, I have every much right to see this through as you do. My mother-" The second voice was Morrigan's. Firm, decisive, clipped and cold. The witch's volume was the same as the templars but Cousland had a nagging feeling that would soon change.
He stretched, noted that Sarim was not near him, and turned to see Tabris' bright blue eyes staring at him in quiet wonder before she lifted her gaze to stare into the thicket where the two were arguing. "They've been at it for a bit now." She said as greeting. Her arm was wrapped in bandages, and the distinct smell of a healing poultice reached his nose. "D'you think she could really turn him into a frog?"
Cousland blinked at her and also looked back to see if he could spy Morrigan and Alistair. "I think that's a question better served for Surana, don't you think?"
"I couldn't wake her, I'd feel bad!" Tabris hissed, her breath tickling his ear as the elf scooted closer to his side to better hear the argument. "Why'd you think he doesn't want Morrigan to come with us? She saved our butts back there."
Cousland shot a glance back at her, then pulled back as she was hovering right behind him, sitting cross-legged and using his side as a purchase to balance her elbows on. His body groaned at the movement, and he let it slide, for the moment. She reminded him of Oren. "That she did." He agreed.
"If you're so worried about your mother, then go turn into a little bird and fly back home."
"What, and have you lead them into a mire or a bog? You don't know the way out of this thicket, let alone the Wilds themselves!"
"We have a Dalish ranger, I'm sure he can lead us out just fine. Better company too."
"You don't even know me! You will need far more than steel and healing magic if you want to do anything about the Blight."
Alistair snorted. "Sure, need you like a need a broken toe. Outside of these Wilds, you're an apostate, and all the Chantry's going to see is an Maleficarium fit to be run through with a sword."
"I am not a blood mage if that's what you're insinuating." Morrigan protested. Cousland felt Tabris shift up to her feet and watched the elf approach the thicket.
"You're as bad as one. Apostates are trouble and they'll only bring trouble-"
"Alistair." Tabris said loud enough to stop the templar's words. "If the Horde did sweep through the southern Wilds then she probably doesn't have a mother to go home to…"
"What does that-"
"It almost means she does have the right to avenge that death, just like you and Ser Duncan. Besides, we need all the help we can get; even if it's from those the Chantry deems evil and unwanted. Right? That's why Duncan didn't care about recruiting elves."
Alistair appered back on the side of the undergrowth that Cousland could see. An apologetic look covered the templar's face. "Now I didn't mean anything-"
"She's coming with us." Tabris said again, firmly. "Surana can teach her how to act like a Circle Mage-"
"I refuse to act like those shackled fools." Morrigan had also reappeared. Her expression was dark and spiteful. "And if you think I need your defending me against this buffoon of a templar…"
"I'm not defending you," Tabris shook her head. By this time, Cousland could hear the rest of the camp stirring awake. "I'm telling Alistair that as Grey Wardens, we will take whatever help we can get and that's what Duncan would have done." She addressed the last point to Alistair and didn't look away until the templar nodded. "Good. I think Theron is out trying to catch some of the critters fleeing north for breakfast, can you help me gather firewood?"
Alistair nodded and turned to follow Tabris out of the thicket while Morrigan glared after them. She sat on the rocks that edged the spring and turned the glare onto Cousland.
Cousland turned his attention back to catching more sleep.
A/N: I know, a quick update! Gasp and marvel at such a feat of daring. *chuckle* I know the last updates were few and far between, but I'll try to make time to keep this story going regularly.
Lehni: I'll try to keep the updates closer together so it's not a re-read every time you come back. :)
A Forgotten Fairy: You did get one couple right, or hinted at them in one of your earliest reviews. I'm afraid that not all of your intended couples will happen though.
My Lurking Readers: Please try to drop a line or two in a review. It really does make an artist's day brighter when they open up an e-mail saying they've got a new review, but don't worry. if you don't; I won't halt updates just because of a lack of reviews. I love writing this story far too much to do that.
