PARALLEL CONTENT: GENESIS OF A DRAGON CH 17-20

9:30 Dragon, 9th of Harvestmere

"I don't need you babying me."

"And I don't need your attitude."

"Prat."

"Asshole." Reveka rounded on her brother, keeping her voice low so the nearby soldiers couldn't hear their familial spat. "What do you think happens to me if you die in the fighting, hm? I have to break the news to Mother. I have to tell her that I let you stand on the front lines and get killed by darkspawn. I can't do that—I won't do that, not when you joined the army because of me. So I got you a place on the ballista teams with me. Take it."

Carver huffed, folding his beefy arms over himself. "I didn't join because of you."

"So what. You think Mother will see it that way? Really?" Reveka matched his posture. Her baby brother might have long outgrown her, but that didn't mean she wouldn't drag his ass if push came to shove. "Even if you have your own reasons, you can't deny that my… that I had something to do with it, one way or the other. So at least come with me so we can watch each other's backs."

"The ballista teams stay up in the fort away from the fighting. I earned my spot on Captain Verel's company—I'm not giving it up." He narrowed his eyes, nearly sneering. "You're just worried you won't get any glory for yourself. You don't want me to finally have a chance to outshine you."

Reveka resisted the great and powerful urge to rip her hair out—or maybe his hair, as the more appealing option. "Can you not be so thick-headed for five minutes? I'm trying to make sure you don't get killed!"

"I don't need your help." Carver half turned away but paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "If anyone, it's you who shouldn't be here. I can't face Mother either, not if you get caught."

Reveka cast a cursory glance around them. The only shields she saw were those bearing the heraldry of the lords of Ferelden. No holy flaming swords in sight, at least for now.

"I don't like it either, but I'm already here. Deserting is out of the question. You know what happened to Adric; they locked him in a cage and they've been starving the poor bastard. And this isn't exactly something I can go to the officers with and request a discharge. Maybe I should fake sick. Know of any good plagues going around right now? Aside from the Blight I suppose, if that counts."

"Huh. No, but let me know if you try it—that's something I'd love to watch," Carver said with a slight chuckle. "The templars… they haven't given you any trouble, have they? No one's noticed anything?"

Reveka stepped sharply on his toe with the heel of her boot, eliciting a string of curses from her baby brother that surely would have had Mother reaching for the soap. "No, but if you keep flapping your fat mouth that'll change."

Carver hopped on one foot and rubbed at the new wound. She hoped it bruised.

"Alright, fine, fine. It's just… there's so many of them here. I know you're used to hiding by now, but make sure you're extra careful."

"I think they've all got bigger fish to fry at the moment. Some very Blighty fish. And plenty of their own actual mages to babysit," she said, shaking her head.

"True enough. Now if you'll stop nagging me, I need to report back to Captain Verel; our squad's running drills in the practice rings soon. And I'm sure you've got other things to be doing than bothering me."

Reveka sighed, tying her hair back and turning to the camp. "Yeah, yeah, the ballistae won't maintain themselves. Just so you know: if you die, I'll have Bethany learn necromancy just so I can bring you back and kick your ass."

"Not likely to give you the chance," he said with an offhanded wave as he took the path from the ruin to the main army camp.

She'd known it would be a longshot. Carver had done well enough in the last few battles to earn himself the spot on that squad, but in her eyes it was as much a death sentence as a promotion.

Soldiers who got near the front lines often came back in pieces.

He might have bitten off more than he could chew, but there was no way he'd ever admit that. If things went south, she'd probably be the one pulling him out and cleaning up after him—just like always.

She stopped by the kennels on her way through the fort. The kennelmaster was attempting to muzzle a mabari, but it growled and snapped at him whenever he so much as reached an arm through the pen. Poor dog would probably have to be put down, the way things were going.

Reveka left him to it and went to the smaller pen just beyond, where her own dog was dozing in a small patch of sunlight. He was easy to spot amongst the other hounds. Most mabari had solid or dual colored short hair, but her dog was of a longer coat with speckles all over.

"Alright lazy bones, up and at 'em," she said, undoing the latch. He lifted his head, mismatched eyes blinking at her sleepily, only to lay his head back down and roll over in the hay. "Come on boy, this is no time to be playing dead. You've slept in long enough, and if I have to work I want to at least have a companion in suffering."

She bent and grabbed him by the collar, half-hauling her dog to his feet as he huffed and yawned. He'd always been a bit of a dozer, even before the army. The extra work probably meant he felt more entitled to his naps. Reveka was even inclined to agree, but only if that also meant she could nap as well. The sergeants seemed to have other opinions whenever they caught her slacking off.

They passed through the main of the ruin. A Chantry sister was just getting started on her daily speech about how the soldiers shouldn't fear death, messengers ran back and forth as they moved to deliver goods and orders, mabari barked and howled from the kennels behind her, and screams rose distantly from the infirmary.

Just another day in Ostagar.

Maintenance on the ballistae was the same as always. The ones on the bridge got the most use and had the most effect on the darkspawn, so they needed the most attention. They were running low on bolts, though—hopefully another shipment would come in soon, or they'd have a problem on their hands.

She met up with another soldier from her team and they headed to the outer wall to finish their routine checks. The ones in this part of the fort were positioned further away from where the darkspawn usually showed themselves and less often used, but they were good for getting straggling groups that tried to move to the side to try and flank.

This was where she'd been positioned for the last few fights. Supporting the firing teams and on standby to engage if necessary. So far it hadn't been necessary, but that could really change at any time.

Reveka looked out over the expanse of trees as they worked on repairing a firing trigger. "So, word is this is supposed to be that battle that sends these darkspawn back underground. You believe that?"

Her fellow soldier didn't pause his work. "I don't know what to believe," he said simply. "We've won every battle, but there's more of them each time."

That was true enough. She was far from an expert on darkspawn, but she didn't like the way each battle was becoming more and more challenging. It was almost like the monsters were testing them, gauging what they were capable of.

"Makes you wonder if those Grey Wardens are right," she said. She'd only ever seen the Grey Wardens in passing, but in an army camp word traveled like a bed disease in a brothel. The Wardens believed it was a Blight, though on the whole everyone else was less than convinced.

Reveka just hoped they were wrong, for all their sakes.

"I don't want to think about that," he said tersely, tense as he continued his task.

"Sounds like the perfect time to get drunk, if you ask me," she said, taking a flask out of her coat and tipping it back.

The other soldier looked up, brows raised. "Hey, where'd you get that?"

"From Captain Nunaya."

"Nunaya?"

"Nunaya Business," she said, completely deadpan. "A great man, you should get to know him."

The soldier rolled his eyes. "Oh come on Hawke, don't be like that."

"The quartermaster may or may not have a special supply he offers to keep morale up. Select buyers only, very hush-hush." She took another drink.

"You do know that if he's caught, or you're caught, you could get in serious trouble for this, right?"

"I honestly don't know how they expect us to work in conditions like this and not provide us a method to at least get wasted if we so desire. Inhumane, is what that is. The quartermaster is doing the Makers work if you ask me, so save your judgment. What are you gonna do, report me?"

"Only if you hold out on me," he said, holding out his hand expectantly. Reveka rolled her eyes and passed him the flask—it wasn't like she didn't know how to get more. Though by the time she got the flask back it was nearly empty.

She sat down on the edge of the wall and took her container of kaddis out of her pack. She smeared the red paste lazily over her nose before turning to her dog and beginning to apply it to his coat. His longer hair made it a messy process, and afterwords he sort of looked like he'd been in a fight with a bear.

She liked to think it added to his charm.

"Mind if I borrow that for a moment?"

She looked up at the unfamiliar man. The first thing she noticed was his armor—much finer than anything normal soldiers got to wear. There was an elegance to his featured that spoke of nobility, but it was marred by a recent scar trailing up his neck and face.

The second thing she noticed was the pure white mabari hound standing attentively at his side.

Reveka shrugged. "Sure, I don't see why not," she said, holding the container out. "Take a seat. I'm Hawke."

He did, and his hound seated herself in front of him expectantly. "Well met. Cousland. And this is Lady." He was more careful with the application than she typically was, painting a curled pattern across his cheek and on his hands before moving to mirror the design on his dog.

Cousland. Ah. So he was nobility, then, or at least a relative of the family. The Highever troops had been around camp here and there—though, she hadn't seen them recently. She wondered why he wasn't with them.

"Odd to find someone with a mabari who doesn't carry their own kaddis," she observed aloud as she watched him work.

He shrugged. "I'll need to stop by the supply officer I suppose. I was in a hurry when I left home, didn't grab any. And there hasn't been a convenient opportunity to get some until now. Honestly, I didn't even think about it much until I saw the Ash Warriors on the other side of the camp," he said, glancing between her and her dog. "Are the two of you with the Ash Warriors, or with the other hound squads?"

"No. Shart's in his sunset years, and he isn't pure mabari to boot. He's spent most of his life shepherding druffalo and occasionally chasing off bandits. He's still tough as they come, but not built for direct warfare like those other hounds." Reveka knelt down beside her old dog and pressed a kiss on his nose. "So the two of us are with the reserves at the back of the fortress."

He just looked at her for a moment, a slow frown covering his face as he took in her words. "Your dog's name… is Shart?"

Shart barked happily, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. The white mabari eyed the drool falling out of his mouth with a disdain that could only come from pedigree.

"It's as much a name as a general warning to the public," Reveka nodded. "Also, don't tell any of the Chantry Sisters, but his name is actually short for Shartan."

Cousland's eyebrows climbed straight into his hairline, which was not an uncommon reaction. Though to his credit it seemed more out of humor than offense. "A bit sacrilegious, aren't we?"

"I find a bit of heresy amusing from time to time. Keeps the stick out of the ass, and all that."

He laughed, passing the kaddis container back to her. "How's someone like you end up in the army, anyways? Don't take this wrong, but you don't much seem like the soldier type."

"Oh? Then what type do I seem like?" She asked, single brow raised in anticipation of his answer.

Cousland didn't answer right away. His eyes trailed the length of her, in as much of an 'I'm checking you out' way as an 'I clearly see the flask sticking out of your pocket' thing.

"Like the type who's more trouble than your average captain is willing to put up with," he said matter-of-factly.

"Careful with your compliments sir, or I may even be flattered," she said with a wink.

Surprise flitted across his face for only a moment before being replaced by a sly grin. "I can think of worse ways to spend an afternoon than flattering a beautiful woman. If you'd like, I could even do it on purpose."

"Oh? And just what might you say, were you to do so intentionally?" Reveka leaned in, dark hair draping over her shoulder and she twirled a lock around her finger. It was time to see just how much she could get away with here.

"I'm sure I could come up with something. My greatest challenge would be deciding where to start," Cousland drawled. "I might start by complimenting your natural charm and wit, then perhaps suggest we find someplace more scenic to get to know one another…"

She leaned in continuously closer as he spoke. "Hmm. Do go on." He was a smooth-talker and noble born. Which meant he was also probably a sucker. She began tracing a hand towards his belt where his coin pouch sat oh-so invitingly.

Without breaking eye contact Cousland reached down and grabbed her arm, stopping her mid-motion. "… and then, I would ask that you please wait until we've at least had dinner before you start reaching into my pants," he said, impressively maintaining a deadpan expression.

Oh, she liked this one. Reveka pulled back and grinned. She'd underestimated him—a pleasant surprise. At least he wasn't as boring as everyone else around here.

"Sharp boy," she said, standing with a laugh.

"Sly girl," he countered, brow raised.

She stretched her arms briefly and swung them at her side, taking a few steps away. "Keep your wits about you, eh? Maybe we could actually see about that dinner after the battle. You know, if a genlock doesn't eat your pretty face off."

Cousland laughed despite himself. "Count on it. Careful out there, Hawke. Don't get dead."

"You either," she said, waving as she snapped for her dog and promptly disappeared into the bustle of the camp.

She joined back up with the rest of her squad. And quickly realized that was probably her lost spot of genuine entertainment for the day.

All of the real responsibilities her team had were already taken care of. Anything else their captain gave them at this point was just busy work meant to keep their hands and their minds occupied. Which Reveka didn't necessarily mind at first—it was better than sitting about twiddling their thumbs.

But there were only so much you could do to reinforce barricades or bows you could re-string before you kind of lost your mind. Which she feared she might begin to by the time the sky began to darken as the already obscured sun began to dip beyond the horizon.

Unable to take any more of the mind-numbing activity as dusk truly settled, she split off from her group as their captain moved them to re-inspect the ballistae for the millionth time, lagging behind and cutting off in a different direction once she was sure none of them would notice her. Shart almost didn't notice either, continuing several paces before startling suddenly and turning to run after her.

She scratched his ears as he caught up. Shart wasn't always the brightest star in the sky, but that didn't matter to Reveka. She'd take her loveable mutt over a purebred any day.

Reveka considered what she might do with the rest of the time available to her—which probably wasn't much, the way everyone was beginning to mobilize. Maybe she could try to find Carver again… nah. She didn't need a major headache right before the battle, and she seemed to get one whenever they talked these days.

She was already starting to get a headache anyways from the business in the camp alone. The rattling of soldiers marching in armor, the dogs barking, the officers shouting orders… it was so damn annoying.

Fortunately, the Ostagar fortress was large enough that if you knew where to look, even in a place as busy as this you could find plenty of hidden corners of quiet. She moved to the back of the fort, one of the only sections that still had a roof over it. Archery squads were practicing firing at dummy targets, but she circled around them and behind the structure.

"Here boy, come lie down," Reveka said to Shart, beckoning him to set behind some out-of-of the way crates. Much as she loved him, he wasn't a great climber. "Finish that nap you were on about earlier."

She scaled the side of the ruin, ascending up to the top of the roof with ease, only to find her favored hiding spot already occupied.

A dark haired man sat at the edge of the roof, legs dangling off the edge as he dropped small stones down and watched them fall off the edge of the fort and into the valley below. He hadn't noticed her yet, staring off at the trees lost in his own thoughts.

She glanced down the overhang—from here, if someone fell down the side of the fort into the valley they'd have to scrape up the greasy mess with a shovel.

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "So… is this the part where I'm supposed to tell you that you have so much to live for, or…?"

He jolted, startled badly enough by he almost actually did fall off. He turned back as he steadied himself, glaring daggers at her.

"Maker's breath, no!"

Reveka breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, good. Because I am not the kind of person to give that spiel."

The man rolled his eyes and looked away, obviously irritated. But she noticed how he glanced down, expression now morbidly curious.

"Is that a problem they've been having? People throwing themselves off the fort rather than face the darkspawn?" He asked, voice twinged with a bit of sadness.

"Wouldn't really know. If there have been any jumpers, captains would probably do everything they can to cover it up. For morale, and all." Reveka shrugged, plopping down beside him. "So what are you doing up here? I didn't think anyone else knew about this spot."

"I dunno," he shrugged, dropping another stone. "I just kinda… wound up here. What about you though, what're you doing up here?"

"Shirking on work, mostly," she said, causing him to chuckle. "But mostly I like getting above it all, just for a bit… find some peace before the battle begins. It's one of the few places a person can be alone in this Maker-forsaken camp."

"You can say that again," Daveth said, glancing over his shoulder at the rest of the fort. "But I guess this spot isn't so lonely anymore. Seeing as there's two of us here."

It was an opening for her to ask for him to leave. Or for her to go. She did neither.

"Though, it does have its upsides," he snickered as she continued to sit without saying anything. "Lots of pretty lady soldiers around, at least, and among them you by far are clearly the fairest and fiercest. You can call me Daveth." He winked.

"I'm Hawke," she said, suppressing the great and powerful urge to roll her eyes and just grinning instead. She did very much like to be complimented. "I've only been a proper soldier for a few months. And honestly it's a stretch to call me a 'proper' soldier. I've never been proper a day in my life."

"Hah! Now that's what I like to hear." He said, laughing loudly. She shushed him, glancing down—this quiet spot of refuge wouldn't be either of those things if any of the captains heard them up there. "Fine fine, I'll quiet down. So Hawke, if you're not a soldier, what are you?"

"I'm a farmer from Lothering." She said simply. From his face she could tell this answer underwhelmed him slightly. "Not just a farmer, though. We had a handful of templars stationed there, but otherwise there was a small group of us that acted as a makeshift town guard. We were mostly there to drive out bandits and the like that would try to torch our grain and steal our shit. Or chase off the occasional bear that wandered through." Honestly, the bears were more of a nightmare than the bandits. "All of us were drafted to help with the real army here when the darkspawn started emerging."

"You really don't strike me as a farm girl." he mused.

"Careful—I'll strike you however I like." Reveka said, pelting him with one of the little stone's he'd been throwing earlier. "What about you, then? How'd your sorry ass end up here fighting darkspawn at the edge of the world?"

"Picked the wrong guy's pocket. And now here I am, paying the price," he said with a humorless laugh, then frowned. "Or rather, not paying it… I guess."

"Well that's about as clear as mud." Reveka said. He wasn't telling her everything, but that was fine by her. No one owed anyone their full story just because it was asked.

And honestly, she usually didn't like anyone who's personal business wasn't a thinly veiled disaster. She found people more relatable that way.

It started raining, then. It was light, for now, but the winds were picking up, and she didn't doubt it would be long before the rain increased either.

"You look like you've seen some recent action," She said, taking in the mud caked at his boots and the few cuts and bruises he sported across his body. "Were you scouting the Wilds?"

"Yeah, I was out there. It's a bloody nightmare," he shuddered. "We'd drop a whole group of them, only for more to pop out of the next bush around the corner. And the darkspawn wasn't even the worst of it."

"Then you're rather lucky you made it back," Reveka said decisively.

"Lucky? Not devilishly clever and or wicked strong?" He asked, egging her on.

"Only if you insist," she hummed. She meant what she said about luck, though. Even the most skilled scouting groups came back with fewer and fewer men with each venture.

A horn echoed through the fortress—that was their que. The little moment of peace was over.

"Well Daveth," she said, standing and dusting herself off, "It's been great and all, but the darkspawn won't just kill themselves. Good luck out there." And without another word, Reveka dropped down the side of the roof, clutching the siding to guide her way back down to the interior of the fort.

Shart jumped up to her as she landed, lil stub tail wagging excitedly as he circled her.

"Alright you sweet dummy, time to go to work," she said, snapping for him to heel at her side as she made her way to where her team was supposed to form up.

Shart wasn't her only follower though—Daveth was tailing her like a distant shadow, looking a little lost.

"You don't have a squad of your own to get to?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder.

Daveth just shook his head. "Nah. They made it clear they don't want me with them."

"Yikes," Reveka said, sucking a breath in through her teeth. There was a story there, but the shadow that crossed his face implied it might not be the best subject to poke at. She almost did, anyways. "Well, you're welcome to come with me. It's not as exciting up with the ballista teams as it is in the field, but you never know."

"Maybe for a bit." He said. His voice was noncommittal, but he walked with her all the way to where her squad was stationed.

Her team's captain only chewed her out a little bit for being absent til then. Honestly, he was kind of off his game today, normally he could rant for several minutes at a time. But the second horn sounded, and they all had to take their positions.

The rain was increasing now. Their torches and fires burned hot enough to stay lit, but if it turned into an all-out downpour their source of light was going to be at risk.

Through the weather she could see down into the valley, and faintly she noticed a layer of fog rolling out from the trees. The darkspawn were here. Their guttural cries and shrieks carried up on the wind as the line broke and they charged forwards.

In the field below the archers released a volley of flaming arrows into the advancing monsters. Their captain shouted orders to man the ballistae, and Reveka and Daveth rushed to pass bolts to the ballista teams as they loaded and fired into the charging monsters.

For all of ten minutes, things seemed to be going pretty well.

And then the boulders started flying in.

Regular boulders would have been bad enough, but these were on fire. There hadn't been anything like this bombardment in the previous battles—where was this coming from all of a sudden?

"Get down!"

Reveka barely heard the warning over the pounding rain, but she managed to dive behind a column in time to brace for one impacting their team, shielding her head with her arms. The blast left her ears ringing and the world shaking.

She leaned out from behind the column—the rest of her team hadn't been so lucky. She looked away from them quickly—she wasn't eager to see the different ways in which they'd been crushed or set ablaze.

The ballista was beyond repair—there'd be no more firing from that one. She stumbled to her feet, the ringing in her ears finally dying down. As her hearing tuned back in she heard something faintly, a cracking…

"Hawke, the structure's about to go!" Daveth shouted.

She whipped her head over to him—he was cut in a few places by the shrapnel of the stone, but still alive. And he was running away from the edge.

Reveka scrambled back as she realized what was happening, dragging Shart along after her to make sure he was safe. They cleared the break line just in time for the ledge they'd been stationed at to crumble and fall into the valley.

"Fuck," she gasped as more flaming boulders flew over their head and impacted the fortress. Distantly she wondered where all the mages had gone… wasn't there purpose in battle to apply defensive magic from things like this? She really didn't know, but that seemed like a smart way to employ magic to her.

"We should move, this position's not safe." Daveth said as she moved to him.

"I don't think any position's safe," Reveka said, something like dread beginning to pool in her gut. This battle was different. She didn't know how exactly, but she knew it wasn't good. "We should find another team. Maybe there's some way we can help."

Daveth shifted nervously, but steeled his resolve, looking remarkably determined. "Let's head to the bridge. We should be able to get a good idea of the situation from there."

It was as good an idea as any.

They ran through the fort, and even though the valley below was relatively distant from here the sounds coming from below sent chills up her spine. She saw injured men already being either hauled up to the infirmary or dragging themselves on the ground, no longer fit to fight and desperate not to die out in the field.

The situation at the bridge was a disaster.

Most of the squads set up there were completely obliterated—only one ballista remained, in fact, and it was being desperately manned by two injured soldiers and an archer firing at their side. And that wasn't even the worst part; the whole structure looked one burning boulder impact away from collapsing entirely.

Reveka ran onto the bridge anyways. She raced out as far as she dared and looked over the edge, ignoring the occasional rock flying overhead or arrow whizzing by her ear.

She'd heard the bigwig officers talk about the general battle strategy they were using to beat the darkspawn, something to do with forging… hammer and anvil. Loghain's men were supposed to be the hammer, and their people in the valley the anvil.

The hammer must have still been gathering behind cover at the top of one of the valley ridges. And right now the anvil was looking like a right mess.

And Carver was down in that mess. Somewhere.

Daveth was at her side before she really even noticed, staring into the valley with the same worried expression. He probably had people he cared about down there, too.

"Come on. Let's see if we can get one of these ballistae working again." She didn't want to operate a ballista. She wanted to go down into the valley and find Carver, then kick his ass and send him home.

Daveth helped her haul one of the slightly less destroyed ones away from the edge and she looked it over. The frame was cracked and mostly burned, but at least the arms were still intact. Unlike the base, which left the whole thing horribly tilted. But maybe it would work.

Reveka loaded it, and Daveth cranked the winch lever to pull it back. She supported the tilted weight of it, trying to make it straighten out.

"Fire it!" Reveka shouted over the rain.

The spring snapped, the ballista fired, but the bolt didn't fly half as far as it should have.

"Huh. Well, that did fuck-all," Daveth mused, watching it disappear into the dark.

"This is pointless," Reveka said, ready to abandon the effort entirely.

"The tower." Daveth said suddenly, looking fully across the bridge and up at the looming structure. "It's lit up now. That's a good thing, right?"

"Yeah, I think so." Reveka said. "Reinforcements."

The hammer was about to come down. It was rough, but this was their chance. Maybe now was her opportunity to go through the fort and down into the valley, try and find Carver…

The torchlight that has been slowly building at the ridge of the valley began to disappear. Why was it disappearing?

Dread returned in full force and she moved further down the bridge, whipping the rain from her eyes to try and see what was going on. Maybe her eyes were just playing tricks on her maybe it was just…

The ridge went dark. No soldiers rushed down the bank to come and support the forces getting their asses handed to them. No knights swooped in to save the day.

"... was something supposed to happen?" Daveth asked slowly. "I mean, you looked really hopeful for a second there, so I was kinda thinking…"

"There's no help. They're abandoning us." She said, voice cold the storm winds. "We've been had."

"You're not serious, are you?" He said desperately, cold panic growing on his face. "Maker's arsehole. You are serious. Why would they do that? They can't do that, the Wardens are down there! They'll all be killed!"

"I don't know, okay? I don't get what's going on either," She bit back. She began moving across the bridge, trying to think of her best way down. "But my brother's down there, I have to do something."

"I'm coming too," Daveth said, pacing after her as persistently as her mabari. "Duncan's down there… without him, the Grey Wardens are finished. Maybe I can do something to help."

She didn't know if she even wanted his help—certain things would be easier for her to do alone. But anything she might have said to him died in her throat as she saw a growing number of shadowed forms begin to grow in the courtyard ahead.

Darkspawn. They were beginning to flood from the Tower of Ishal, soon they'd be headed for the bridge. How the fuck they were even inside the fort, she didn't know, but it couldn't be good. She turned back, but froze in her tracks. The other side was a no better route—it was being bombarded with huge burning rocks.

There was only one way forward she could see. A way uniquely available to her. Reveka looked at Daveth standing beside her, a man who she'd not yet known for even an hour, and decided to take a chance.

"Are you with me?" She reached out and gripped his forearm like a vice.

He stared down at the disaster of a battle a moment longer before looking to her with a definitive nod.

"Good," Reveka said, bracing herself both physically and mentally for what she was about to do. She worked her other hand into Shart's spiked harness, making sure she had a good hold on him. "Because I'm probably not getting out of that mess without help."

"How're we gonnaaaAAAAAA—!"

His question broke into a comically high-pitched scream as Reveka leaped from the bridge, dragging him along with her.

She offered up a little prayer as wind rushed by her ears—this wasn't the first time she'd ever done this particular trick, but it was her first time doing it from so high up. And with anyone other than herself.

Reveka pulled at her power, building a cluster of force at her feet rather than her hands. She ripped at gravity, inverting their momentum briefly. But still, they hit the ground hard. The impact of the landing rumbled in tandem with the storm in the sky, the force of the spell that saved them erupting outward and crushing a cluster of darkspawn below them as it cushioned their fall.

She released Daveth, fighting back the odd rush the manipulation of gravity had left her with as she checked to make sure Shart was okay. He seemed on alert and a little shaken up but bless his little heart—there wasn't a single thought behind those eyes.

"You… you're a mage?" Daveth said, pale in the face from both the fall and the fact they were not sad little pancakes in the mud.

"Yeah, yeah. If we survive, you can try and turn me over to the templars after," She said, already recovered from the odd sense of vertigo and breaking into a run. "But please save any freak-outs over my apostacy until our lives are no longer in danger."

She took in the chaos around them—at this point, any soldier with sense was pulling back and fleeing away from the advancing lines.

Not Carver, though, because Maker forbid her baby brother ever do anything sensible. He was across the field from them, racing forwards against the tide of the other soldiers panicked retreat… actively and intentionally running towards an enormous horned ogre.

"Carver, what are you doing?" Reveka shouted, racing up to his side and grabbing him by his shoulder. He was startled by her approach, blade half raised against her before he realized who he was looking at. "Loghain's men quit the field—the formation's finished. We have to go before it's too late!"

"We can get to Cailan, we need to get him out!" He said, pointing deeper into the valley where the ogre was now charging towards the king.

"The patriotism is great, but not if it means you're running to your death," She said, trying him the opposite direction he was still stubbornly trying to move.

Daveth hadn't stopped when she had by Carver, but kept running forward, vaulting up onto one of the collapsed defenses. His bow was in his hand, arrow pulled back to a full draw. In the flickering light of the nearby flames Reveka saw the ogre's hand raise in the air, a man in shining gold armor struggling in its grasp.

Daveth released his shot, arrow cutting through the rain and wind. Reveka couldn't see from here if it'd found her mark or not, but Daveth was already moving again, dodging rubble from a boulder up ahead smashing into the structure and continuing deeper into the valley.

Carver shared a look with her, and after only a heartbeat of deliberation they raced after him. She rounded the collapsed structure and followed Daveth through the chaos as the ogre toppled in the distance. It occurred to her that maybe this guy was no ordinary scout—that maybe there was a reason he was going for the Warden Commander. For all she knew, he was one of them.

Offensive magic was never her strength. Using power for mobility, for self-enhancement—that was where her strength lied. But there was a whole new wave of darkspawn rushing forwards, and though Daveth's arrows were dropping a few at a time it wouldn't stop them from reaching the King and the Warden Commander before they could.

She let loose one of the few spells specifically crafted to kill she actually knew. Reveka drew forward a net of force, capturing the advancing monsters as they swung for the Commander's head. She clenched her fist and raised it upwards, ripping the darkspawn high into the air. She slammed her fist down into the mud, crushing the darkspawn back to the earth with force enough to crack stone.

"Carver, Daveth, grab who we're here for and let's go!" Reveka said, gasping to catch her breath and readying her blade.

"Right!" Daveth said, sliding his bow back over his shoulder and running over.

"Keep them off us!" Carver said, both he and Daveth trying to move the ogre corpse off King Cailan.

Reveka covered them as they worked together to move the enormous body, cutting down the darkspawn that rushed them.

"If you boys would like to stop taking your sweet time," she said, stabbing a hurlock through the heart and kicking it off her sword. "I'd really love to get out of here. Sooner rather than later, please!"

"Stop talking and keep fighting!" Carver said, finally moving the dead ogre with a final heave.

"Oh don't worry, I'm perfectly capable of doing both!" She shouted over a roar of thunder. Shart bit down on a genlock's ankle, dragging it off its feet, and Reveka took the opportunity to stomp down and break its neck.

She turned back, grabbing a discarded spear and launching it at a darkspawn's face. There was a break in their advance, but more would be coming soon. She looked back at the others—Caver had King Cailan on his back, and Daveth had the old Grey Warden draped over his shoulders.

Neither looked in good shape. But they didn't look dead, either, so that was a plus.

"What do we do now?" Daveth said, looking around wildly for approaching threats.

Reveka reached forward and cast an aura upon Daveth, Carver, and herself, imbuing them all with strength and speed ordinarily unachievable aside from these magical means. She wouldn't be able to maintain it forever, but it would give them the boost they needed to haul these two dying men away from immediate harm. And by immediate, she meant right the fuck behind them.

"Now, we run."