"The Maker smiles sadly on his Grey Wardens, so the Chantry says, as no sacrifice is greater than theirs."
Top of the World
"I don't understand this." Alistair cursed as he opened the heavy doors. Inside was the heavy smell of death and fire; "The Darkspawn shouldn't be here."
"So? Go tell the piss-ants that." Dela huffed as she nudged a dead body with the tip of her boot. Talia offered the small woman a glance, wondering not for the first time how she could move so silently in metal armor. In the end, like with many other events that had transpired, she attributed it to magic.
"Yeah, I'm sure this is all just one big misunderstanding." Alistair was being sardonic, that much was easy to hear; "And later we'll all laugh and go each our ways."
"I guess it does sound pretty optimistic when you put it like that." Aedan hummed, looking around. The room before them was a large circular hall, with barricades crudely stacked to prevent those coming from the door to gain entrance. Or rather, it was built to funnel intruders through what was probably a kill zone. This was not even the base of the tower, but rather more like the entrance within the entrance.
Talia was forced to admit...this was a pretty big tower.
Having been raised in a long (and proud. If her parents were anything, they were Divines-be-damned proud) line of fire-mages, she had been schooled so thoroughly in flammable substances, that not only could she recite them when awoken before the hounds, she also recognized the smell of oil. A heavy stench that almost seemed to hammer her senses with the greasy sensation of flammable pitch.
She frowned to waft the smell from her nostrils, then followed the others as they made cautious progress into the hall. Alistair, being the senior, walked in the front, and thus it was the sound of his heavy boots treading on something other than dry brick that alerted her.
Without even hesitating to warn the group, she grabbed Alistair by the neck of his armor and hauled him back.
The puddle of oil was set ablaze that very same instant, becoming a pit of fiery death. Had anyone actually been standing on it. Heart hammering in her chest, Talia made sure her own clothes weren't on fire before retreating behind a pillar. Arrows were being shot from beyond the fountain at the center of the room, and her robes wouldn't offer much protection from them.
Arrows also had a nasty habit of getting lodged in wood, so Oak Flesh wasn't even the ideal solution here. Also, she didn't really know how the spell would react with fire.
"Wait for the flames to die out!" Alistair called, taking cover himself behind another pillar. Talia scoffed, examining the roaring flames as they ate away at the slick oils. There was a lot of fire.
"Hey Daveth!" she called, catching the archer's attention; "If I step out of cover, do you think you can pick off anyone shooting at me? Just for a few seconds?"
"...suppose." he nodded; "What's your plan?"
"I'm curious too." Alistair added in, his expression and tone less than favorable; "I'd rather not lose a Warden right after all the shit you pulled in the Joining."
"Just watch." Talia grinned, although she did wait until Daveth had an arrow notched before stepping out.
Almost immediately, a Darkspawn popped up behind the barricade, an arrow of its own ready to fly from a crudely made compound bow. She decided to put her trust in Daveth, folly though that might be, and instead focused on the yet roaring flames.
An arrow was loosened, but found its mark in a tainted skull, not her. Daveth was upholding his side of the bargain, so now it was her turn. Honestly, if she ended up getting bested by a rogue like him, she'd forsake alcohol.
For...a week. Maybe.
Reaching out, Talia grasped the energies of the fires before her, a roaring inferno meant to consume the Darkspawns' victims. Instead, now she turned it against them, weaving the ever-present magical energies of the Aetherius into the flames. The flames diverted from their natural course, now coiling through the air like a great serpent. It all followed the dance of her arms, twisting through the air as she got the fires under control.
This was...different, from simply toying around with the fires of a candlelight.
Only once the flames were fully hers to direct did she unleash them, washing away the tainted filth with their own oil-fueled fire. The result was beautiful destruction, if only very loud. Yet, it only lasted the span of mere seconds, until she snuffed the flames from existence, leaving behind nothing but charred wood and smoking bodies.
Suddenly, killing these creatures had become remarkably easy.
"Damn..." a proud smile spread across Talia's face as she beheld what she had wrought; "I don't know how the Joining did what it did, but I love it."
"The Joining grants us powers beyond what normal people could ever achieve." Alistair explained, stepping out from behind cover. He seemed...impressed, actually; "Although this is the first time I've actually seen its effects on mages. Maybe this'll all be a lot easier than-"
"Don't say it." Dela punched him in the side, appearing almost as if out of nowhere; "Don't say it. Whenever you surfacers say something like that, bad shit happens. And I don't want to be the one getting the axe because of your stupid idioms."
"Right" their senior drawled, earning a scoff from the dwarf; "I'll remember that. Now, let's get a move on, or the battle's won before we even get to the top."
With Alistair and Aedan in the front, the group started forcing its way through the rooms. Talia found that somehow, as she had noticed earlier, her magical reserves seemed to have been increased beyond measure.
It was when they emerged into the first of the chambers nestled along the exterior wall, that the Darkspawns' way of entry was revealed.
There was a giant hole in the ground.
"...how deep you think that is?" Daveth mused.
"Dunno..." Dela hummed, kicking a pebble into the darkness. There was no echo from it hitting anything, probably because the whole was just dirt, and not through solid rock; "I'd say it's about as far down as from here to the battle. Probably the Darkspawn dug their way up from somewhere close to the battlefield."
"And no one noticed?" Alistair asked, clearly irritated; "Don't we have, you know, scouts out there for something like this?"
"Who knows?" Talia shrugged. In truth, she was worried about more than just them right now. Aedan's brother was out scouting, and if no one knew of this, what did that mean for the scouts? Had the Darkspawn killed them all? "Let's get moving. There could still be survivors."
She was proven wrong, on that account.
The rooms they passed all more or less looked like improvised slaughterhouses, with the dead bodies of humans and Darkspawn both strewn about. The floor was slick with blood, red and black mixing as if in some perverse display of interracial unity, however that was supposed to be. She couldn't count the amount of corpses, but didn't need to before she understood that they weren't going to find anyone else alive, bar the Darkspawn.
One of the rooms that made her cringe was a large hall just before the corridors leading to the next floor. The dead and mutilated bodies of Mabari hounds were slumped in their cages, butchered by the Darkspawn. Many still were impaled with the spears that had killed them, some macabre display of just how many spears could fit within a body.
She did her best to ignore the sight, and instead took out her frustrations on a group of Genlock's appearing from one of the side-rooms in the corridor.
Teeth grit in anger, she hurled fire and lightning at the miniature monsters, frying their skin, burning their flesh and popping their eyes like so many zits. There was something immensely satisfying about watching electricity arch its way through a group of grotesque, undead dwarves. If Dela felt anything about fighting Genlocks, she didn't show it, which was fine by Talia. She didn't care to guess the dwarf's thoughts anyway.
"So… anyone care to guess what's behind door number One?" Daveth mused, not waiting for a reply as he opened the door. Talia found his good mood, or whatever it was, to be uncanny, given the situation.
"I'm guessing Darkspawn." Alistair said. There had to be a joke somewhere in there, but Talia just couldn't find it, nor would she probably have laughed if she could. In the end, she decided she didn't care and instead followed the others through the door, and up the stairs.
Gods! She hated stairs!
But at least she wasn't Dela.
"Sodding… piece of… shit!" The dwarf cursed under her breath, as she struggled to make her shorter legs keep up; "I…really hate… human buildings."
Alistair changed the pace to her level, likely because he himself was tired. Or, he was being considerate. It didn't really matter which, though the contemplation was interesting enough;
"Orzammar has plenty of stairs too." He argued; "I should know. I had to climb to the Diamond quarters."
"Well I never went to the diamond quarters, so… excuse me for not… having the same level of stair-killing expertise… as you, oh great leader."
"You hear that?" Alistair mused, much to Dela's obvious annoyance; "I'm a great leader now."
"You'll be a hurting leader if… you don't…shut up…" Dela cursed; "At least I...never got...fucked, by the Aed...damn it."
Talia, walking rear of their group, at first thought it was odd that the dwarf would end her rant like that, especially now that it had finally entered into the area of Alistair getting fucked by something. Did she mean it like he'd gotten laid, or screwed over by some...one...
Oh...
Now she understood why Dela had stopped talking.
A barricade of corpses was blocking the stairs, with a stream of blood, black and red, running down the steps. Too late, she noticed that her boots were soaked with the same, and frowned. Great. That wasn't going to be a bitch to wash out at all.
"This might take some time to clear." Alistair muttered, then glanced at Talia. Somehow, she knew what he wanted. Not because it was terribly difficult to discern, what with his words and the way he looked at her.
"Right, right. Let the mage remove the dead bodies. Magnus, it's like you people don't respect magic at all." She grumbled, pressing through the group. When in front of the wall, the sight only got more unsettling. There was barricading an entrance with what one had on hand, and there was this. Each body had been mauled and ravaged to the point where even the Draugrs would look more appeasing.
It was nightmare material, honestly.
There really only was one way to clear out the mess, short of physically tearing it down. Fire wouldn't do it, as the smoke would probably be less than healthy to inhale. Right...what could she do, then? Frost wouldn't really do much either, except maybe help with the stench.
Lightning would sort it out fairly quickly, but generate the same amount of smoke as fire. So that was out. Maybe some kind of atronach? The problem here was that she was limited to Two-Sock and a single fire atronach at a time.
"I've got nothing." She shrugged, adding to Alistair's dismayed expression; "Unless you want me to blow it up, but...actually..."
That might be an idea. A bad idea, probably, but still an idea.
"Actually what?" their leader asked; "What do you mean by 'actually'?" he glanced to the others; "What does she mean by 'actually'?"
Talia had stopped paying attention to him. Instead, she held her breath the best she could, and stepped up to the wall of flesh. One hand extended, she froze solid a patch of decomposing human torso. Averting her eyes from what remained of its owner's face, locked in terror and anguish, she used what was now a somewhat stable, and rigid, surface to imbed her spell on.
"You should probably all get back." She warned, even as runes started glowing an irritated red, a circle of arcane glyphs of a particularly explosive nature; "Like...further back. I can't promise it's not going to collapse the stairs."
"I told you not to say it was gonna be easy." Dela punched Alistair in the side; "Now she's gonna blow us all up."
"Gods give me strength..." Talia groaned, finalizing the rune. It wasn't her best work, by far - she blamed that on the material - but it should do the trick. Hopefully. Skipping down the stairs, she stopped at the bottom of the turn, breathing in deeply; "Right, here goes."
The fireball she threw at the barricade wasn't one of her larger, but still large and intense enough that the impact on the fire rune caused a detonation, blowing the bodies apart in a cascade of flesh and gore. For longer than she had expected, the overwhelming sound was that of bodies and body parts smacking into whatever surface was closest.
It still stunk, however.
"Right, that...that was absolutely all part of how I planned that." She wiped off her hands on her robes, only to find them just as stained in blood. Awesome. Looking back, she found the others to be on their way up, Alistair with an almost apprehensive look on his face; "...what?"
"...we seriously need more mages in the Wardens." His reply surprised her somewhat, mainly because it was an actually positive one; "...a bit messy though."
The second floor was more or less redecorated by the Darkspawn. Crude weapons and dismembered corpses were propped everywhere - a lot of them had been dumped there by her spell - , and every statue had been beheaded. Talia didn't see the idea to the latter, as beheading a statue had to be a waste of time. Still, the group met with little resistance. There was of course plenty of Darkspawn, but mostly the small shits made from Dwarves.
They became as so many dancing little candles.
It wasn't until the group reached the final room, just before the stairs to the top of the tower, that things got problematic.
If problematic was the proper word to describe a giant-sized, purple, horned Darkspawn eating a dead body. Sans Alistair, the entire group just stopped and stared. Talia hadn't ever before known what it sounded like when a human body was broken apart and eaten. Now she did. Daveth was the first to find his voice;
"What…the shit… is that?" she couldn't have put it better herself, except maybe for adding some Divine at the front of the sentence. Still, his words perfectly mirrored her thoughts. This thing was big. It was bigger than just big. It was Namira-be-damned huge.
"Ogre." Alistair spoke in a low voice, hand tightening on his sword; "How did it even...Nobody make any sudden movements."
In the end, the entire group could as well have yelled at the top of their lungs, for all the good being silent did them. The gigantic beast turned, a lumbering and slow movement, and glared at the Wardens. A bit of a human arm dangled from its jaws, before being gulped down as the Ogre regarded them with a bestial, yet somewhat intelligent glare.
"Well… now what?" Dela urged, clearly nervous at the prospect of having to fight something so impossibly large. And how the hell had it even gotten into the room? There was no hole in the wall of the floor large enough to allow it entrance, and it sure as hell didn't seem capable of using the door.
"Aedan, you and I draw its attention. Dela, see if you can get on its back. Daveth and Talia, do your best to harass it. Don't. underestimate-" Alistair's orders were interrupted when the Ogre threw back its meaty fists and roared, spittle flying from its mouth. Then, it charged.
"MOVE!" Talia wasn't sure if she was the one screaming it or not, but she followed the suggestion, and leapt for her life as the ogre charged forward like a bull. The others did the same, and the monster plowed through a table before hitting the door the group had used. Its momentum carried it, the door and a section of the wall with it and into the previous room, where it came to a tumbling halt in a cloud of debris and dust.
"Maker! How do we kill something like that?" Aedan exclaimed as he started moving towards the monster. Talia bit down the worry as she instead focused on following Alistair's orders. He was the senior warden in their group, so logic dictated he would know how to fight one of these things. Gods, she hoped that was true. Because shooting fire at it didn't really seem to do more than piss it off.
On the other hand, considering that was exactly what he'd told her to do, maybe that wasn't the worst thing? She didn't know, but decided to stick with hurling things at the monster that could potentially irritate it.
"How about not dying? I really like that plan!" Dela yelled as she skirted the Ogre, leaping away every time the monster tried pulping her into the floor. For a small woman in heavy armor, Dela was surprisingly nimble.
"Keep shooting, that's my plan." Daveth said in a very even voice as he shot arrow after arrow into the Ogre. His precision was just as good as it had been in the Wilds, if not better. Even so, the attacks seemed to impact the monster as little more than pinpricks. Still, Talia found herself following Daveth's plan, tearing a flame atronach from Oblivion with one hand, while the other shifted between frost and fire magic.
As odd as it was both unexpected yet obvious in hindsight, the ogre targeted the atronach more than it targeted Alistair or Aedan. Both men hacked away at the monster at every chance and turn they got, but the ogre's main target seemed to be the brightly burning atronach, hovering a foot above ground as it pelted the ogre with what amounted to hot pebbles.
"That's how it's done!" Daveth exclaimed as he no-doubt noticed the ogre's strange priorities as well. Talia decided that if the atronach actually did manage to distract the ogre, she would just go with it having been her plan all along. The ogre finally managed to press the atronach into a corner, whereupon it smashed the summon into the ground like an annoying insect. Daveth's arrow found the base of its skull, and the Ogre roared in pain, the first really obvious sign that any damage was being done. As the Ogre turned to charge the archer, the remains of the atronach combusted in a wave of fire before its feet. Arcane flames licked at its unarmored feet, and the monster howled in pain.
Daveth's dwindling stock of arrows was showing, but at least they didn't seem to have been wasted. Multiple small wounds where arrows had broken off, were bleeding, as were the wounds to its legs and waist where the two warriors of the group had managed to injure it. There wasn't a single bite-mark from Turk, as the Mabari had wisely kept its distance to the fight. Clever boy, seeing how the Darkspawn giant would likely have swatted the hound aside like a cat toying with a mouse.
Talia was about to throw fire at the Ogre's exposed rear, but held back as she saw Dela dashing forward, a dagger held firmly in each hand. Her first thoughts were that there was no way Dela could get high enough to do any worthwhile harm to the monster.
Those thoughts were dismissed when the dwarf buried both daggers in the Ogre's back, and then held on for dear life as the Darkspawn started trying to throw her off. More or less ignoring the humans before it, the Ogre stomped about, meaty fists clawing to get at the pesky midget clinging to its back. Dela didn't let go though, but instead started using her blades to climb higher, somehow managing to evade every attempt at crushing her in a powerful grip.
Alistair signaled Aedan as the ogre focused on Dela, and both men ducked forward beneath the swinging fists. In rough unison, both warriors sent their blades through the tendons above its ankles. Dark blood sprayed from the deep cuts, and the Ogre's legs wobbled as it lost the ability to stand straight. At this point, Talia and Daveth were forced to simply watch, seeing how any attack could hit Dela as well. The dwarf used the momentum as the Ogre stumbled, to close the distance between herself and the monster's neck. Then, the Ogre caught her in its massive hand.
It happened too fast for anyone but possibly Dela to realize what was going on. One moment the dwarf was scaling the gigantic Darkspawn, the next it had her in a crushing grip.
No
Dela screamed in agony, and even as Talia felt the horror rise in her throat, the Ogre threw Dela at the wall at the far side of the room. Her small body seemed to sail through the air in slowed time, then hit the wall with a wet crack, the sound of both body and armor breaking.
The sound of the impact. Gods.
"DELA!" Daveth screamed; "DELA! DELA!"
Alistair roared and charged forward as the ogre turned to regard the rest of the Wardens, a satisfied smirk on its monstrous face. It slapped a fist to the ground, cracking the tiles where Alistair had just been. Instead, Alistair dodged the blow and buried his sword to the hilt in the Ogre's torso.
"Die, damn you!"
The Ogre howled and twitched, still alive despite the mortal wound. The sword was ripped from Alistair's hand. Aedan slashed the Ogre across the chest, causing more blood to fall in a crimson cascade. The massive Darkspawn turned its face towards Aedan, snarling as it was down on level with the human. Alistair drew his knife, going for the kill, and plunged it into the Ogre's eye. The fight ended, and the massive Darkspawn collapsed in a wide pool of its own blood.
"By the Eight… What… the hell…?" Talia panted as the adrenaline started leaving her system. Her legs were still shaking. Alistair didn't bother to glance at her, instead looking at where Dela had fallen as he retrieved his sword from the Ogre.
She started walking towards Dela, hoping to see the dwarf bounce back up like she'd done when the statue hit her on the bridge. Daveth somehow outpaced her, and knelt by the dwarf.
Any moment now, she would sit back up, take a swig from that flask of hers and curse.
Any moment now...
"…Is…Damn it, is she...?" She feared the answer, but asked anyway. There wasn't much doubt really, she knew from the growing puddle of blood forming where Dela lay, unmoving. The armor supposed to protect her body had been caved in like crumbled parchment, and blood was running freely from every gap in the metal. Her neck was bent in an odd angle, which more or less told Talia what was to know.
Dela was dead.
The group was silent for almost a full minute, offering the small woman what respects they could. Talia moved a bit, so she wouldn't be able to see the horrified expression that had stuck on Dela's face. Still, not a word was spoken aloud while Alistair muttered something that sounded very much like a prayer.
Then he got up and sighed, taking a long, deep breath;
"Alright, let's move. We need to get to the beacon, else the Teyrn's men won't know when to charge."
"Damn it..." Talia turned to the source of the voice, finding Daveth to still be where he'd stood, not moving. Tears flowed in thick streams from his eyes, running the length of his face before disappearing into his shirt; "Damn it...Damn it...Damn it...Damn it, Damn it...D-damn it, Damn..."
"...Daveth." He didn't even seem to register it when she placed a hand on his shoulder. Damn it all, but she was about to tear up now too. Whatever relationship Daveth and Dela had had, it was shattered now, and the former left behind with the grief.
"...it's not fair." He whispered, not turning to face her; "Fuck's the point? She took on the Joining, lived and...now this. Now she's...she's dead. My...she...Talia, she...Damn it- DAMN IT! FUCK! SHIT! FUCKING SHIT! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" in the midst of his wails, Daveth had moved to the corpse of the Ogre, and started kicking it with every renewed scream; "YOU! PIECE! OF! SHIT!"
"Daveth..." she took his shoulder again, as gently as she could; "We need to get moving."
"Just...just give me..." his voice choked up as he moved from the colossal corpse to the smaller one, steps uncertain and wavering. He dropped to his knees in front of Dela's mangled and broken form, body shaking; "Just...go ahead, I'll...I'll be..."
"I'll wait."
She turned to where Alistair and Aedan were watching from the stairs. She gestured for them to go on. Honestly, right now she was probably the only one of them who understood Daveth's situation. Maybe. Losing a friend was a different pain than losing family, but agonizing all the same.
Daveth didn't nod, or visibly react to her words. Instead he slowly, as if in a trance, turned Dela's body over so that she could lie on her back. The horrified expression still marred her face, one eye halfway closed in a mess of blood and bruises from where her face had hit the wall.
Talia remained a silent watcher as he worked, placing the dwarf's hands over her chest in a manner much like how she had seen the figures on sarcophaguses, in High Rock. Daveth hands were gentle and careful, in spite of his trembling, as if she feared he could break his friend more than she already had been.
"...she was my friend." He whispered, whether to himself or to her, Talia didn't know; "...we both...grew up in the slums. I think that...helped. She'll return to the Stone now, even if the bastards at Orzammar would cough up a lung at the notion."
"If it's any consolation, I lost one of my best friends not two weeks back." She didn't know if it would help him to know that she understood his pain, or if he would consider it an offense; "...Templars killed him. Dela at least...knew what she signed up for. She was brave, a lot..."
"Just...you don't need to keep talking." Daveth stood, his stance shaky. He didn't turn to face her; "I know. Dela died serving the same...the same cause that I would give my life for, if needed. Your friend and Dela are different things, but...I guess thanks, for tryin'."
"That's what I'm here for." She tried forcing a smile onto her expression; "That, and setting things on fire."
"How do we even know when to light this thing?" Aedan asked.
"Just leave that part to me." was all Alistair said. Talia huffed in irritation, and did her best to wipe the blood on her boots off on the stairs. When they finally cleared the stairwell and emerged into the top-floor room, it hit her just how damn big it was. There even was a relatively small hole in the wall, yet large enough that the Ogre would have been perfectly able to fit through. If only, that was, had the hole not opened up to a straight drop hundreds of feet down.
She could see the battle from the makeshift window, though, so there was something to do while Alistair prepared the beacon. Daveth stood next to her, leaning on the opening. When he spoke, his voice was devoid of interest;
"…Sure as hell looks tiny from up here, don't it?"
"I guess…" Talia muttered, trying not to think of all the people dying every second while they watched. Or Dela's smashed corpse. Duncan was down there too, she knew, as was the king. She didn't much care about Cailan, but he seemed an alright sort, if far too naïve and idealistic to be king. Still, she hoped the plan would work; "This whole 'Blight'-thing… what would happen if we lost?"
"You mean just here or a 'we're all dead' lost?" Daveth asked. Talia looked at him, noticing the tired look in his eyes.
"The second one."
"The previous Blights sometimes spread far beyond Ferelden, from what I know. Dunno how far, but I guess they just keep spreading until someone stops it with a big 'nuff army." Daveth said. From the tone of his voice, his mind wasn't with his words, but Talia's very much were; "Didn't always begin here either. Was one in Orlais, and I think one in the Anderfels, once..."
The sound of wood igniting made Talia look behind her, to where Alistair had set the beacon ablaze. From where she stood, it seemed like he had merely lit up a fireplace with a chimney, but when looking out the hole again, she could easily see the glow cast from the light shining somewhere above them.
The beacon was lit.
Now all they had to do was to wait for Loghain's men to charge in and slaughter the Darkspawn. Talia squinted, trying to spot Loghain's forces. She found them pretty easily, a large mass of dark, covered in bright dots from the torches. The reinforcements were located on the top of a hill overlooking the battlefield, so the charge was probably going to be like crushing a grape between an anvil and a hammer. A cautious smile spread on her lips. And we have the best seats to watch this go down.
Then she looked again, trying to understand what she was seeing.
Something was wrong. The beacon was lit, and there was no way it wasn't visible from the valley. Loghain had to have seen it now. So why by the gods wasn't he charging down like the Nord heroes of old? Had she misunderstood the plan?
The battle just dragged on below, with the sound of steel on steel carrying all the way to where she stood. And yet, Loghain hadn't charged down the hill. Talia's eyes widened in something between horror and confusion as she noticed Loghain's forces seemed to be moving away from the battle. What in Oblivion had she missed in the plan that explained Loghain leaving the battle?
Even as she turned to ask Alistair, seeing how he was the senior warden in their group, footsteps and growls came from the stairs behind them. Her eyes shot towards the stairs, narrowing, then widening in disbelief as Darkspawn emerged, swarming into the room with bows drawn, and teeth bared in evil grins.
An arrow flew.
She raised her hands, palms already glowing green.
"Behind-!" Her yell was cut short as the arrow pierced her chest, followed by first one, then two others in the same place. More followed, penetrating her arms and legs. More arrows continued to fly, bringing the rest of the group to the ground. Talia tried to scream as the pain wrecked her body, but all that came out was blood spurting from her lips, even as darkness started seeping into her world.
Not...not like this!
Please...
Soft.
...why was it soft?
Light was seeping through the cracks in her eyelids, disturbing the sleep she tried remaining deep within. Not that she didn't like soft things, it was just annoying because the darkness had been warm and soft and comfortable, not at all like what being awake was usually like.
Wait.
Why was she even asleep? She didn't remember having gone to bed, and she usually remembered that kind of things, if never actually falling asleep. There seemed to be a barrier preventing one from remembering falling asleep.
Why...
Darkspawn everywhere. Arrows. So many arrows, and she'd been hit. She remembered that. There had been pain, and she hadn't been able to breathe. And everything had tasted of blood, and it wasn't supposed to taste of blood. She'd hit the floor, and tried warning the others before everything just went dark.
Why... was she even alive?
Talia's eyes flew open as the memories returned, yet her body refused to move right away. Her legs were asleep, and only slowly did they begin feeling normal again. Meanwhile, she threw off the covers, covers she had never even seen before, and tried sitting up. Anything was better than lying down now.
"Had I known that my bed would become a permanent hospice for strangers, I would have erected a tent to spare myself the trouble." An irritated, yet amused voice said from her left. Talia's eyes sought the speaker, and found a person she hadn't expected to see. At least not so soon. Morrigan, the "Witch of the Wilds" that the others had been so afraid off.
"Where…am I?" Talia asked. Before Morrigan could respond, the door to the room was borderline kicked in, revealing a less than calm Brelyna. Talia attempted a weak greeting as the Dunmer seemed to have trouble finding her words; "…Hi?"
Morrigan, having clearly no intentions of being caught in a conversation, left the room. When the Dunmer did speak however, it was with a surprising amount of calm;
"Do you... have any idea how… what, happened to you?" Brelyna's voice was a little odd, considering the fires burning in her red eyes. The tone didn't match at all, which was a little unsettling. Talia glanced down, realizing she was covered by nothing but her underwear. Still, she didn't pay that any mind as she instead looked around the room. Four other beds were lined next to hers, all of them empty. When she looked back at Brelyna, the girl had somehow moved a lot closer without the Breton noticing;
"I...I remember being shot. A lot. By the Darkspawn." She muttered, rubbing her eye. A thought struck her, as did worry and she looked to Morrigan; "My… the others?"
"They are fine. T'is you who was in the most danger." Morrigan said, gesturing for the still-open door. A furry face poked inside, a face Talia had never thought she'd be this happy and relieved to see. Morrigan noticed him as well, and scoffed; "That one has been pestering Mother and I since the moment he awoke."
"It is a relief to see you alive, Talia. J'zargo was starting to think he'd become the greatest with no competition." The Khajiit mused. A brief flash of hurt appeared in his eyes before vanishing again; "Ah, some competition has been lost. Onmund was... an honest competitor. J'zargo... suspects he would have become a great wizard… not as great as J'zargo, but…"
It was becoming painfully obvious that the cat didn't really know how to express himself without being too embarrassed to sound like he actually meant it. He was socially awkward like that at times. Talia sighed as the door opened again, though she made a point to keep her eyes on J'zargo;
"I know. But... the two of you are alive." She sighed. Looking towards the door, she noticed Daveth quickly leaving the room again, obviously realizing this was a private conversation. She almost nodded after him when J'zargo's words pulled her attention back;
"That is true, and so are you. It would have been such a shame had J'zargo lost his last rival." The Khajiit barred his teeth slightly in a feline grin. Talia sighed and rested back against the wall, having propped up the thin pillow for some comfort; "Well, one of them. How do you feel?"
"...surprisingly good, considering I was shot, like, what ten times?"
"The scary old bat pulled just seven arrows from you." J'zargo hummed; "Talia should not oversell her injuries."
"So… what now?" Brelyna asked, looking at her two fellow students. Talia rubbed her neck, longing for her robes to cover her again. Not because she had an issue with being next-to naked, but because the house was not exactly warm.
"We head home, yes?" J'zargo asked, then poked his chin with a claw; "Though J'zargo does not know exactly how to do this."
"I have... an idea as to where we are, actually." Brelyna admitted. For some reason, she didn't seem happy when she spoke. Talia frowned, wondering what her, admittedly somewhat smarter, friend had discovered; "But you're not going to like it."
"Oh?" J'zargo mused, indicating this hadn't been shared with him. Brelyna sighed;
"…I'm… more or less certain that this is Akavir." To which Talia merely stared. Then she blinked.
"Akavir?" J'zargo asked in mild disbelief. Nothing ever really seemed to face him, which was odd. It was odd because Talia knew he wasn't stupid, or as arrogant and non-caring as he let on.
"I don't know…" she sighed. Too much had been revealed for her not to try ripping apart Brelyna's theory. First of all, where the heck were the Tiger Dragons? Akavir was supposed to have plenty of Serpent-men, like the Tsaesci. And what of the Snow Demons? Granted, those could just be frozen for the time being, but still.
"The only thing that bugs me is that your friends froze on the spot when they saw J'zargo." Brelyna huffed, scooting to better sit on the bed.
Talia didn't mind the closeness, not after the hell she'd just been dragged through;
"...Why do you think this is Akavir?"
"Well, it's obviously east of Skyrim, and Morrowind. The constellations are the same, but they show up at the wrong times." Brelyna didn't herself sound like she was convinced, but if the stars were as she said, they ought to be further west than anywhere on Tamriel alright; "But the Warrior just barely shows up, so we have to be a great deal further south than the Imperial Province."
"Still doesn't mean this is Akavir, Brelyna." Talia muttered, allowing the Dunmer to lean against her, an arm around her side; "...I've been out there, and so far I haven't seen a single Snow demon or Monkey-Man."
"J'zargo does not care if the Tiger Dragons themselves come knocking. He wants to know how to return to Tamriel, not what stars you can see." The Khajiit stated in annoyance. Talia gave him a flat stare, one that softened a bit when she noticed the scar running up his neck and into his left cheek. She decided to change the subject, and pointed it out;
"You... really fought a bear?" the question came so sudden that J'zargo had to blink while processing the words, then just grinned proudly.
"Ah, well yes of course. J'zargo would be a poor mage if he fell like the rest of you." He declared with smug satisfaction. Talia's brow shot up a little;
"But why? Khajiit can outrun most bears I know of. Didn't you have magic then?"
"Ah… no. J'zargo had to use his claws. But… he won. And now J'zargo will have scars to bear with pride." He said, though his tone was a bit off; "But enough of J'zargo. Who are the people outside that seem so worried for you?"
"Ah…them…" Talia muttered, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. It somehow felt like she'd betrayed her friends a bit with the whole "Join the Wardens" thing. It had seemed the right thing to do at the time, but in hindsight it was probably going to cause issues; "There… might be a problem. It's more or less my fault, I think…"
"What do you mean?" Brelyna's voice held just enough worry to file under the 'what did you do this time?' category. Usually it was annoying (because Talia didn't get into trouble nearly often enough to warrant a tone reserved for that kind of thing), but now she accepted that her friends, the ones in the room with her, might not be exactly overjoyed; "...what have you done this time?"
Talia shifted in her seat, wringing her hands. The ridiculous irony of Brelyna, of all people, asking what she had done, would have made her laugh if her ribs didn't still hurt too much.
"I… might have kinda... maybe... joined an Order of monster-killing warriors to stop an army of Darkness comparable to the Dragon War." There. Revelation delivered. Now to wait for J'zargo to become jealous and Brelyna to have a nervous fit.
"Ok-ay?" The Dunmer's first word wasn't what Talia had expected; "And… why would you do that when you know as well as I that we should just return home as soon as possible?"
"That's… where it kinda gets a little scary. Scary as in 'soil your drawers'-scary." She tried explaining. Brelyna's eyes widened slightly before they narrowed, indicating for her to go on. There would likely be some very uncomfortable admonishing from the younger girl if Talia couldn't sell the threat as it was. She still remembered what Daveth had said, in the tower.
"And how is that, hmm?" J'zargo mused, examining a claw as he spoke. Still, his ears were pointed straight ahead, betraying the nonchalant façade of disinterest.
"Do you remember the Ashblight, back in the time of Dagoth Ur?" It was the closest comparison she could think of, and the names were close enough to fit; "This is...on a somewhat larger scale. Instead of just infecting animals, the Blight here has created some sort of army, a horde of creatures called Darkspawn...I'm...not sure I can leave. Not yet."
"Are you sure?" Brelyna's voice was somewhere between set in stone, and wavering from uncertainty. Talia really wanted to lie and say everything wasn't as bad as she thought.
"I am, yeah…" She muttered, looking at her feet; "At first I just wanted to get back home as fast as I could, with you of course, but… that's when I started realizing how big this is. If they lose...I don't think this will just stay in Ferelden. Or Akavir..."
"Mmm… maybe J'zargo spoke too soon earlier. Talia cannot be his rival if the girl has lost her mind." There was a hint of frustration in his voice, something rarely heard from the cat. He pointed an outfolded claw at her; "And something tells J'zargo that you must have lost your mind."
"What, because I did something instead of just looking the other way?" Talia huffed, staring at the cat; "If nothing else, it's our duty as Imperial citizens to prevent threats to Tamriel."
"J'zargo is not an imperial citizen, Talia, and as much as he boasts, he knows he is not meant for war. He joined the College to learn the arts, not to fight the forces of Darkness."
"What difference could you even make, Talia?" Brelyna cut in. Good thing too, because J'zargo was getting on the Breton's nerves.
"I can help... At least, I believe I can help." She declared, looking for some support from the door. Right now would be a great time for any of the other Wardens to butt in. Even Alistair, mage-hater as he seemed to have been once; "I just… I can't turn my back on this. Even if we could leave right now, what would happen when the Blight reached Tamriel?"
"The Empire would beat it back, of course." J'zargo brushed her off; "Khajiit knows there are no greater soldiers than the Imperial Legions."
"He has a point, you know." And Brelyna sounded like she hardly believed it herself; "We're apprentices, students. We're not supposed to fight in wars. Doesn't this land have an army of its own?"
Not anymore, Talia suspected.
If the plan had hinged on Loghain charging from the flank, then the plan had failed when she watched the general pull out. This probably meant the battle had been lost. And that Duncan was dead. The thought made her heart beat faster for a few moments, but she managed to force it down with controlled breathing.
Even if Duncan was dead, panicking wouldn't solve anything.
"It had. Regardless, this is important. Staying here could mean saving countless lives. I'm not asking you to join me for it, Divines know I'd prefer you to be on the other end of Nirn from this shit, but…"
"Do you even know what you are saying?" Brelyna seemed baffled, which Talia really didn't blame her. Delivering speeches about self-sacrifice wasn't exactly something she did often. Mainly because it went somewhat against her desire not to die.
"I know. I know that I'm not a soldier, or even trained to kill a horde of monstrous mutants, but I have to try." At the very least she should try to help the people she'd met. Even if she might not make a difference, the shame would probably eat her up till she died, if she just left it all for the safety of Tamriel.
"Not what I meant." The Dunmer sighed in irritation; "I meant that you must be utterly delirious if you think I'll let you endanger your life like this without me to watch your back. You're not good enough at killing people."
Talia blinked, completely taken aback by the dark-skinned girl's words. It felt a bit like someone had punched her intestines into her chest, and now everything was tangled up and confused. Because it sounded a lot like Brelyna had just admitted to being somewhat efficient at murder.
She was, but had never admitted to it before. Mainly because the Dunmer had never viewed it as necessary to even speak of.
"What?" It wasn't the most eloquent of counters, but it was all she could muster.
"I happen to be a better mage than you, whether you realize it or not." Brelyna stated with a determined stare; "If you want to play hero, you need an actually decent mage to watch over you."
"Hey, I'm plenty deadly compared to you." Talia muttered.
"Maybe, but your reserves are below average. I'm coming, and that's the end of it."
"Were below average." She countered, the last scrap of resistance she could offer; "I've...improved."
"Regardless, I am accompanying you."
A small grin spread over Talia's face, though she made an effort to suppress it. She wanted Brelyna safe, but at the same time, didn't want to be separated from her in a land like Ferelden. She looked at J'zargo, the cat offering her an amused look;
"Let this one guess, you want J'zargo to stay safe too?" He said. Talia mock-scowled at him;
"I seem to recall you saying you weren't an Imperial citizen, nor a soldier, scaredy-cat. Or did that change?" A feeling of confidence was spreading in her chest, caused by Brelyna's determination to watch over her. In a way, it was like the roles were turned around and Brelyna had suddenly become the older girl. Funny, really.
"J'zargo only said that because he knows he doesn't need to help. But you need his help, no?" The cat grinned, toying with one of his thick, black whiskers. Really it was more like a beard, but Khajiit insisted they didn't grow beards. So, whiskers it was.
"Sure we do." Talia blew a huff. Still, she was glad they were with her in this.
Outside, as she more or less bypassed Morrigan, Talia found Aedan and Alistair to be deep in conversation with their backs turned. When Aedan noticed her, Alistair turned as well, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes, and a pained expression on his face. Near by the shallow waters of the marshy pond, Daveth was sitting on a rock, unusually silent.
"What?" Talia spoke first, directing the question to Alistair and Aedan. Mostly to Aedan, as she had a nagging suspicion about what had happened to Alistair.
"Loghain left the battle about when we lit the beacon…" Aedan muttered, his fists tightened in clear anger; "King Cailan is dead. Duncan is dead, and the whole bleeding army is dead. With just the four of us, we're more or less screwed."
"Six, actually…" she tried, though it had about the expected effect: none at all. Aedan just kept looking like he wanted to strangle a puppy. Speaking of… where by Arkay did Turk go?
The realization hit her that the hound was likely dead, since she hadn't seen it so far since she woke up. Just one more nail in the coffin that was Aedan's family, and what was left of it.
"Six, then. We're still just us versus the Darkspawn, oh, and Loghain who probably wants to remove the loose ends and kill anyone who survived the battle." Alistair snapped; "And two of us can't even be seen in public because everyone would start screaming 'abominations, help!', and then we would be chased by the Chantry as well."
"It's not J'zargo's bloody fault that no one but the old crow knows about Khajiit." The cat argued, obviously tired of being called an abomination by just about every person he came across. Talia chose to ignore the tension, at least for now;
"...What happened? I remember getting shot, how are we here?" Because she really couldn't see a way they could have just ended up in Morrigan's home. Unless the girl or her mother had collected their bodies at the tower and then brought them back to life.
Considering how she had brought back Aedan, it wasn't that far-fetched.
"You were injured, and Mother saved you. You do not remember?" Morrigan said, giving J'zargo the stink-eye when he stood too close to her.
"I think I would remember an old woman rescuing me from… Injured? I was shot in the lung at least twice, and you call that being injured?" Talia exclaimed, poking her chest for effect. Morrigan gave a small, not-very-friendly amused sound at the gesture.
"I have healed far worse injuries in my time, girl." Flemeth stated, appearing from within the house. Talia frowned, as she had been certain the old woman hadn't been inside before. Hiding under the bed, maybe?
In the closet?
"How exactly did you rescue us, if you don't mind me asking?" Daveth asked the old woman. She let a cackle loose, reminding everyone that she was cracked in the head.
"Why, I turned into a dragon and picked you all up, one in each hand and foot, of course." Which was followed by a fresh laugh. Alistair didn't seem to share her enthusiasm;
"Duncan is dead, the King is dead. Everyone is sodding dead. We're all that's left, and you are laughing?" Flemeth smiled and looked at Alistair like he was merely misunderstanding something.
"And why not? If evil threatens the world, surely we could all use a little laughing here and there." Flemeth mused, eyes shining with a spark of madness; "Still, I suspect Grey Wardens are more effective than laughter when it comes to fighting a Blight. Call it an old woman's intuition."
"That why you saved us?" Daveth asked. He didn't even seem to care about being afraid of talking to witches anymore.
"Well, we cannot have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, can we?" Flemeth mused before her expression became more serious; "It has always been the Grey Wardens' duty to unite the land against the Blight, regardless of their origins. Or did that change while I wasn't looking?"
"I think it changed when all but four of them were brutally slaughtered. And why the hell would Loghain even do this? I mean, he's just throwing men away." Talia exclaimed. It wasn't logical. It wasn't even illogical for a man to waste so many soldiers. There was just no sense to it, not even for a madman.
"'Suppose some people are just worse than Darkspawn." Daveth added silently; "Never figured it'd be the General though."
"True enough." Flemeth said; "Perhaps he thinks the Blight is an army he can out-maneuver. In that case he is a fool for not seeing the real threat behind the Blight. Or perhaps, he sees something that we do not? Knows something that we do not? Who can say? Regardless of his reasoning, it matters little in the face of the powers steering the Darkspawn."
"Yes, the Archdemon, we know. Doesn't help us a sodding bit when we have all six of us to fight this with now. Unless Loghain offers his help all of a sudden." Aedan cursed.
"J'zargo thinks this one underestimates mages." The Khajiit chuckled. Talia brushed him off, returning her attention to the two warriors. She trusted Aedan the most, and then Daveth, but Alistair was the Senior in their group, meaning he was most likely to know what to do. Luckily, neither seemed to take the bait from J'zargo.
"Don't we still have those treaties?" Daveth asked, something like realization in his voice. Talia narrowed her eyes in confusion. Had they actually brought the scrolls with them through the entire fight? Not that it hadn't proven a brilliant move, if it was the case, but who the hell came up with the idea to bring valuable documents into a fight?
"Of course! The treaties!" Alistair exclaimed as if Daveth hadn't just asked; "We can get support from the elves, the mages and Orzammar with these!"
"Is that a lot?" Brelyna asked, joining the conversation. Nothing against it, really. She was just as curious as Talia tended to be, and here the Dunmer had been left out of the information. Alistair nodded furiously;
"It is. It's a whole lot. Orzammar alone should have an army the size of what Loghain made off with, if not more. And elves and mages…" Something akin to a light had appeared in Alistair's eyes as he spoke, like a religious devotion to the cause; "We could still win this."
"We can still fuck the Blight, is what you're sayin'." Daveth said; "If the dwarves'd bother helpin' us. Same with the mages."
"Mmm, elves, mages and dwarves. This sounds like a proper army to me." Flemeth mused. Aedan offered Talia a small smile, the first real one she had seen on him so far, as their chances seemed to increase. She did her best to smile back, though the memories of what had happened, coupled with the fact that Brelyna and J'zargo wanted to risk their lives, took the joy from the situation. Alistair's smile more or less faded as Morrigan emerged from the hut;
"Supper is ready, Mother. Shall we have six guests for dinner, or none?" Talia's eyes widened a little at the mention of food. She was absolutely starving, and had no idea why. She'd eaten just before the battle started. Odd, but hopefully they would come across an inn soon. Or, Flemeth would invite them in for supper. She much preferred the latter.
"Our guests are leaving, girl, and you're leaving with them." Flemeth's words seemed to take a moment to register, as Morrigan's expression was unchanged through most of her sentence.
"Excellent, then I- WHAT?" She outright yelled, staring at her mother like the old woman had gone insane. Insaner. More insane. Whatever was the right term.
"Ah…the Witch will accompany us?" J'zargo hummed, sounding a bit too pleased at the news. Talia knew she wasn't pleased. She didn't really like Morrigan - much as she was appealing to behold - and had a feeling Morrigan didn't care if they all dropped dead on the spot. Well maybe except for J'zargo. Talia suspected Morrigan would smile if the cat dropped dead.
"You heard me girl. The last time I looked, you had ears." Flemeth cackled.
"And so pretty ones too." J'zargo was obviously enjoying this more than anyone else in the group. Talia groaned, realizing that the cat was back to getting his kicks from getting under people's skin. Still, there was an entertainment value to it this time.
Morrigan sent J'zargo an evil glare.
"Oh but I really don't know if we can just, you know, take her and all. I mean, she doesn't even want to." Alistair argued. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he didn't like Morrigan either. Odd, that Talia would find something in common with him in the dislike of a mage. Or witch, if one had to be anal about it.
"But won't her magic be, I dunno, really useful?" Aedan said. Talia stared at him, mentally kicking him over the shin for that kind of comment. Mostly because he was right. No mage, including witches, was to be underestimated in a fight. Morrigan probably would be a help.
"True. She also knows her way through the wilds and can guide you past the Darkspawn horde." Flemeth nodded; "I imagine you would like not to be caught by the Darkspawn, or is that your ultimate goal?"
"Not really." Daveth muttered from his seat on the stone.
"Have I no say in this?"
"Oh come now, would you pass up the chance to travel with J'zargo? He so longs for the company of a decent mage." The cat's comment only made the sneer on Morrigan's face increase; "And the company of one so appealing would surely do much to motivate him."
"I hope you choke on your own hairs, cat."
"And now a Khajiit sees more clearly than you, girl. You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years, and now you have the chance." Flemeth said; "Wardens. Understand that I am giving you that which I value most in this world."
"We will keep her safe, don't worry yourself." Daveth assured the old woman; "Don't think she'll need it though."
"Won't she be an apostate outside the Wilds though?" Alistair asked; "I mean, it could be a problem if the Chantry comes after us."
"Refresh my mind. An apostate is, what, exactly?" Talia said as she looked between Morrigan, who looked ready to set J'zargo's whiskers on fire, and Alistair, who looked nervous as the prospect of having aforementioned with them.
"A mage outside the Chantry." Aedan reminded her; "You know, the whole thing with control and why they should be locked up and such."
Right. That had been it. She remembered their talk back at Highever now. It had probably been the catastrophic events soon after that had made her more or less deliberately forget as much as she could about Highever. Still couldn't forget the screams though.
She hid the unpleasant memory behind a scoff;
"That'd be the day when your Chantry ever visits Tamriel." She gave Alistair an encouraging smile; "High Rock especially."
"Indeed, young man. Are your ideals so that you'd not accept help from us "illegal" mages?" Flemeth's words had some barb to them; "Perhaps we should have left you at the tower, then."
"I'd like help from you. Just, so you know." Daveth chirped. He remained sitting though, fiddling with the string for his bow. Morrigan didn't really seem eager to lend said help though;
"Mother, this isn't how I wanted this. I… I am not ready."
"You must be ready, my daughter. These people must reunite Ferelden against the Darkspawn. Without you, they will surely fail."
"But, they already have three mages with them." Morrigan argued, gesturing at the College students. Brelyna groaned at the tension, while J'zargo merely, as per usual, seemed amused at the strife.
"You are capable of greater things than you know, child. The Blight will only grow worse, and all will perish under it. Even I." The fact that Flemeth would be gone as well, seemed to set something in Morrigan off-balance.
"I…Fine." Morrigan threw her hands up in defeat before looking at the Wardens, Alistair and Aedan specifically; "Allow me to get my things then…"
The night was dark, and full of terrors.
Once, Fergus had thought that merely the words of Nan. Stories to scare him with, to compel him into proper behavior. Tales of monsters in the dark, Darkspawn coming to drag children from their beds. She had told him stories so vivid, it had been as if she told them from personal experience.
As he grew up, they stopped scaring him. He had thought such creatures the work of fantasy, or never again to encroach on the world in his lifetime.
Now he knew better.
Now, he was alone in the Wilds, somewhere south of Ostagar. His men, those few who had been placed under his command for the scouting mission, had vanished. One after the other, they had been dragged underground, or pulled into the bushes. Some, they had found, strung from the trees with their guts spilled onto the frozen, tainted ground.
One after the other, something had singled out his men, plucking them from his command until only he remained. Did that mean the Darkspawn knew who was in command, that they were toying with him? Or was this not the Darkspawn, but some other foe?
"Maker, I beg of you...allow me return to my home, if only this once." He wasn't sure if he even believed the Maker to be listening. His men had doubtlessly prayed as well, and little had it served them; "Just...just this once, I ask you, let me see my son again. Let me embrace once more my beloved."
If the Maker answered him, it was not with signs he could interpret. Tired, wet and with his nerves on the edge, Fergus could do little more than to keep on walking. He knew if he ran that he would fall, and whatever stalked him might make it so that he would not stand again.
Each sound not from his own two feet was one that had him pointing his sword at it. For there were no birds, no deer or even vermin scuttling about. This far south, the Darkspawn had already either killed or chased off all that lived.
Even the trees themselves were dying.
There was light in the distance. Literally. Fergus could see a shining glow, something not of the Darkspawn. It was the Tower of Ishal, it had to be. He was so close now, so close that he could almost hear the sounds of battle. Soon, he would be close enough to hear the Darkspawn as they were slaughtered, no match for the Grey Wardens, surely.
Would Sir Gilmore be with them, he wondered?
The snapping of a branch turned him about faster than he had thought himself capable of. suddenly, where before there had been nothing but the darkness, now a Darkspawn stood before him.
"In the name of the Maker." He growled, forcing himself to stand ready, to be braver than he really was; "For King Cailan, for Ferelden!"
He charged the Darkspawn, sword already in motion as the beast rushed to meet him. He had fought these things already. He knew they were faster, and stronger than him. He knew they disregarded the very notion of pain.
So he went for the unexpected. Feinting a strike at the great beast's head, he instead swung low, weaved behind the creature and ran his blade through the back of its knee. As it turned to strike him, the joint gave up, and he followed through with a cut to its arm, then another. And another. And another. Until finally he had hacked his way through its sword-arm.
The Darkspawn screeched as he changed target, now afforded the seconds to aim before he plunged his sword into its exposed neck. Still it screeched, so he did it again, arms screaming with exhaustion. And again. And again, until at last he simply pulled out his sword from its flesh and kicked its head from the last scraps of tissue holding it in place.
It collapsed on the ground, finally silent.
His own knees followed, digging into the softer mud. He barely felt it now, too tired to even bother. He couldn't see the lights anymore. Had he been mistaken?
"Damn it all..."
More footsteps came from all around him, now. More than he could keep track of. He could hear them, their snarls, their harsh laughter. He could smell them, or at least he thought so. The stench of decay and corruption was everywhere this far south.
"Ori...I won't be coming home, after all..." he couldn't even cry at that knowledge. Exhaustion deprived him of even that final bit of humanity. He had thought himself capable of making a difference, back then. That he could serve his king, his country, and somehow make it home.
A Darkspawn stepped in front of him, helmeted head tilted as if in curiosity. He knew that the only curiosity these beasts possessed was the question of how many ways one could end a life. slaughter, that was all they worked in, their sole purpose. His eyes travelled from its concealed face to the axe it wielded, a great and terrible work of steel, crude and jagged.
"Do it then, beast." He would have spat on it, had he had the strength; "The king will vanquish your kind in the end anyway, and the Maker scorn you."
There were no other Darkspawn making noises now. Had he been mistaken? Was there only the one before him? He could see none from the corners of his eyes, and doubted the creatures had the discipline not to make a sound.
It didn't matter, though. One or a hundred, he would still die here.
The Darkspawn in front of him would see to that. He only prayed it would be swift, and not the fate of his men, to be strung up in the trees as his guts were pulled from his body. As the monster raised its axe, Fergus closed his eyes. He cared little for whether it was cowardly to do so, rather it be quickly done than he had to watch the axe. The Darkspawn laughed, a harsh sound.
When the laughter stopped, too abruptly to be natural, he dared to open his eyes.
The Darkspawn was still before him, but now seemed distracted. Fergus almost dared to breathe once more, hoping against hope that something had made the monster change its mind. He knew it wouldn't. Nothing could distract a Darkspawn from the pleasures of slaughter.
Someone else had drawn its attention.
He couldn't see if it was a soldier, or a Chasind, as the Darkspawn stood in its way. It snarled, and the ones of its kin he hadn't been sure of before now emerged from the trees, laughing and howling.
As the one before him moved to meet whomever was approaching, Fergus finally had a chance to see as well. What he saw did not fill him with confidence that his life might be saved.
A single person.
It was just one person, and not even one in armor at that. It wasn't a Grey Warden, for there was no insignia, nor anything resembling a uniform. Instead, dark, filthy robes covered the challenger to the point of hiding the person's very race.
The only things that truly stood out, was the polearm they wielded, a swordstaff of some exotic make, and a blue boar-mask concealing the face.
"I go to find a patrol, and all that is left is just one man?" It was a woman. Fergus didn't know whether he should laugh or weep, for although women did serve in the army, he nurtured no hope that one could match this many darkspawn; "It's always the same with you, Couslands..."