AN: I have never personally shot a bow, so I am going more so based off video games/shows. So the terminology may not be correct.
This is also the first time I have actually written a fight sequence and I do not believe it to be overly descriptive. There are also a few curse words, but not many.
Even though she crouched mere feet from the men, they were not aware of her presence in the least. True; it was dark, and her dark armor blended well in the night, but they were careless. They were engaged in cards of sorts, and drinking, and talking. So far nothing of interest had come up in conversation.
Katherine did not move a muscle as two more men approached to join the party. They exchanged greetings. "Did you get it?" one of the men asked from his place at the table.
"Yep," one of those joining answered. "The ship will be ready to set sail, as soon as we get the cargo loaded."
A thin man sitting at the table spoke up. "We have to catch said cargo first, Raphael. I still think we should just get some of those Dalish, easier than trying to take the damn knife-ears from Kirkwall. That Aveline bitch seems to have put double the routine patrols out in the city than her predecessor."
Raphael laughed. "You are more than welcome to. I will not. I don't fancy the idea of being shot up like a pin cushion. Those Dalish be damned good archers."
Katherine felt a bit of relief that it seemed they had not captured any current elves to sell. That would make this easier. Once they were dead, she could be on her way, without having to bring a number of elves back to Kirkwall, and ensure their safety. Meredith would offer some assistance, as she had in the past to those who were to be sold as the slaves. But had they already captured those they intended to sell into slavery, it would have been a much longer night indeed.
One of the thin man's companions got up a bit clumsily from the table. He was short and stout and appeared much more drunk than his comrades. "Well, come on, fellows. The moon is still high." He stumbled and nearly fell as he walked a little from the table. "We got us some hours to catch a few knife-ears. I could use something warm and soft to cuddle up with."
As the others begin to shuffle around, Katherine knew it was time to take them out. True, it was five to one, but she had the element of surprise and at least three of them were fairly drunk. Moving to a kneeling position, she took up her bow first. Pulling back the arrow, she loosed it, aiming for the man furthest from her. It caught him squarely in the chest and he fell. She quickly notched another before the others really had time to react. This one caught her intended target in the eye and he was dead before he hit the floor.
Quickly dropping the bow, she grabbed her two blades and approached the clumsy man, who was the nearest one to her. He didn't even draw out his sword before she slashed his throat and thrust him to the floor. She didn't even spare him a look before she was moving on. Only the thin man and Raphael were left.
The thin man brandished a long, slender sword as she approached. The two tangled, but she moved faster. The thin man put up a good fight. While he was not quick, he held solid despite his wiry frame. Their blades met time and time again. Once Katherine was a bit slow and his blade lightly bit her forearm. The pain was significant, but the wound was thankfully small. Despite the blood running down her arm, she ended up getting the upper hand. Two knife wounds and he was laid out at her feet. His pale eyes staring sightlessly skyward.
"Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that," Raphael said, the final man among his dead comrades. Katherine turned, ready to strike. But he stood a good ten feet from her, with a crossbow levelly aimed at her. "Uh uh, not so fast. Be a good little girl and drop them weapons."
Katherine didn't move immediately at her swords. Unlike his comrades, he did not seem so drunk. She wasn't stupid. Even if she dropped her weapons, he would most likely kill her before the night was out. Granted she could probably get the upper hand when he moved to tie her up, but she didn't necessarily want to take that chance.
"Drop them now! Or I will shoot you until you do," he said gruffly, taking a step towards her.
"Fine," she said. She knelt down slightly to set her swords on the ground. As she moved to straighten, she grabbed the small throwing dagger from it's sheath at her thigh. The dark sheath blended so well with her black armor, that it was near invisible. As she straightened fully, she let the dagger fly. It hit Raphael in the arm, causing him to stumble and very nearly drop his crossbow.
Taking advantage of the situation, Katherine quickly grabbed her swords again and made it to Raphael in record time. She slashed at him twice and he fell to his knees. Moving around, she held his back to anchor him in place, while she slit his throat cleanly with her other hand. His life's blood seeping out of him, Katherine let him fall face forward to lay on the floor.
Since they all lay dead, Katherine sat about raiding their pockets, to find what she could. She couldn't help but feel a little bad for the families of these individuals, who would must likely miss them. At least the bodies would stay were they fell, so the families would not need to worry about what came of them. She felt no pity for the men themselves, though. If at one time they sold slaves to get out of poverty, that was no longer the case, given the heaviness of each of their coin bags and fine clothes. In the thin man's pocket, she found the letter. It was short and concise in beautiful, flowing script. A Magister from Minrathous was promising payment for quality slaves, elven preferred. Of course, by slaves, he meant capture any poor folk you can and ship them over, then they will be slaves till they die. It could have been Merrill or any of the other elves in the Alienage they went after. Of course had they picked Merrill or the Dalish, they would have had far more than they bargained for. Either way, Katherine felt no pity for the men themselves.
Katherine removed her bracer, hooking it on her belt, and wrapped a piece of cloth around the small cut a few times. Looking around one last time to ensure she forgot nothing, she turned to leave. It might be a while before the dead bodies were found. They had picked a secluded clearing, off a long abandoned farm. With one last glance, she made her way into the dark night. Soon she would be home; there she could clean off the blood and have a good night's rest before reporting in to Meredith.
Katherine was unwrapping her cut when there was a knock at the door. Isabela and her shared a look, since neither were expecting someone. She began to rinse the cut with warm water and soap, while Isabela went to answer.
"Oh, look, Katherine," Isabela called over her shoulder. Katherine twisted slightly, to see the door. Her brown hair got on her face, and she flicked it off with a shake of her head. She had taken the dark hood off, and had her hair loose, since sleep was planned shortly after the clean up. From her viewpoint, Katherine could not see their guests. "Hey, handsome. And handsomer."
In walked Hawke, with a subdued Anders. "Good, you are still awake," Hawke said. He watched her for a second as she tended to her cut. "You know, they make potions for things like that."
"I know." Katherine nodded, but didn't stop bandaging her wound. It was small and hardly worth the use of a potion. It would heal fine in a few day's time.
"Your . . . job went well, I take it?" he asked.
"It was good. Quick and fast, as intended," she replied.
Anders did not engage in the conversation. In fact, he just stood near the door, watching them. Hawke looked over at him expectantly, but when he said nothing, Hawke gestured to Katherine. "That hardly seems appropriate for the task. Fighting in such light armor doesn't seem wise, Katherine."
Katherine hmm'd, looking down her body, though she knew exactly what she wore. Oftentimes, all she wore was light armor. It was quicker to move in and much less tiresome. It made more sense than clunking around Kirkwall in heavy, unbearable armor. She had on a simple, lightweight black armor. All it had was a hood, no accompanying helmet. A red bird was embroidered on the upper chest, directly above where her black tattoo lay. "I didn't go to fight," she answered simply. "I went there to take them out. Had I expected much of a fight, I would have worn more suitable armor for the task."
Hawke nodded. Then he looked at Anders, and prompted, "didn't you have something to say, Anders?"
Anders narrowed his eyes a little, but stepped forwards. "I am sorry for earlier. My anger was uncalled for. It is not my place to tell you what to do." Though he said the words, he did not sound sincere in the least. Katherine surmised that Hawke had talked him into the apology.
"I wasn't assassinating mages, Anders," she explained. Really, she hoped he would understand because the only thing that lent her a good night's sleep was the powder he gave her, and she did not have a ton left. "If you must know, they were basically slavers; men capturing others to sell as slaves to a Magister."
Anders was quite a moment, deciding whether to believe her or not. "I would not think Meredith would trouble herself with such matters," he said a bit tightly.
Katherine sighed, then answered softly, "Meredith is not all the bad. She is tough and a bit one sided on the mage issue, but many people side only with mages or only with Templars, you shouldn't fault her for that." She didn't add that Anders himself was one of those who only saw the Mage side.
"She would still see all mages in chains in the tower," he replied sharply.
Unsure of what to say, she was silent for a few moments. "I would count you as friend, Anders, even if we won't be best friends forever. I would think you know me well enough to know I would not assassinate mages on Meredith orders. Not that I would think she would ever order such. I may do tasks for her from time to time, but I still hold true to my morals."
Anders was silent for several moments. "I am sorry for mistrusting you," he said more sincerely. "If Tomwise is to be believed, you have helped the poor a great deal."
Katherine smiled a little. Isabela shuffled over with a couple of cups and a decanter of wine. "It is much too serious in here," she said. "Here, let's drink. Drinking makes everything better."
Katherine went about cleaning her two still bloodied swords. Isabela sat down next to Anders and looped an arm around his shoulders, murmuring about something indecent. Katherine noticed that Hawke took a seat on the other side of Anders, instead of next to Isabela. She wouldn't directly ask him about it, but tucked the little bit of information away as something odd. Though she was tired, Katherine figured a drink with them wouldn't hurt. It would smooth over any anger Anders' still harbored. And, when they left, she could get a blissful night of sleep.