The Hangover, With Dragons
There must have been something in the booze. Being jarred awake by fighting wasn't so bad. Neither was waking up under a pile of dead and dying bodies, though they'd remember that in their nightmares.
Waking up naked or in just underwear really wasn't so novel, especially after a night of heavy drinking.
But the things the armored people around them were fighting, that could only come from some really bad drugs.
"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit!"
Nobody would ever be able to remember later who was swearing. Whoever said it was shrill-voiced with shock and fear, and spoke for both of them.
It was almost impossible to tell, between the noise of combat and the falling bodies and the horrible smell, what exactly was going on, but they didn't even need to look at each other to agree that being anywhere else at all would be good. Unfortunately, the hideous creatures around them didn't seem to agree.
When one of the ... Creatures, finally noticed two live women where there had only been dead before, it ran straight at them. One of them, the blond one (the naked one) grabbed the first thing that came to hand and brought it up to block the sword blow. The blade bit deep, and stuck. It was only then that she noticed just what she'd grabbed, and started to shriek as she played a bizarre tug-of-war with an armored, severed leg with a sword stuck in it.
The other, dark haired and wearing at least some kind of undergarment, kicked at the horrible thing in a panic, managing to do little but stagger it and make it lose it's grip on it's blade a little.
Scrambling backwards, dirt wedging itself under her nails, she felt her hands come down on something solid, wooden, and slick with blood and mud and who-knew what else. She scrabbled at it, prying it up with shaking hands and dragging it in front of her.
The blond yanked the sword and leg from the thing's grip and tossed the whole thing as far away as she could. Her search was a little more organized this time. She came up with a large battle axe and started swinging.
The weapon was entirely too large for her, but she had gravity on her side. The blade met the notch between helmet and body armor in a crushing blow that crumpled flesh and metal alike.
The spray of blood finally silenced her screaming. She stood dazed, as the body fell to the ground.
The brunette scrambled to her feet with a squeak, bringing the shield-that's what the wood had turned out to be-with her, as a shorter, more squat version of the revolting things they faced moved against her friend. She swung the shield with all the finesse of a frying pan, catching the creature on the side of the head and knocking it aside.
Her eyes wide and blank with fear, she hit it again. And again. And again. After the second blow, it went down. After the third, it was reduced to twitching. Even after it stopped moving entirely, she showed no signs of stopping.
The blond reached out to grab her friend's arm, smearing the spattered blood on both their bodies. "Things! Trying to kill us! And I'm naked!" She crouched and yanked a familiarly shaped piece of wood out from under a body.
The brunette squeaked. "Right. Right. Things. And naked. Me too. Ish." She shook herself out of her momentary daze. Fumbling with the shield, she managed to slide her arm through the straps and clutch the grip. They were miles too big, and the shield slid back and forth against her elbow, but it worked well enough. A few more seconds' scrambling fetched a short, crude sword. "You okay? You hurt?"
She reached down and dragged the strap of a quiver over her head. "I don't know. Did I have sex with a girl last night?" Anything to keep her mind off the gooey thwack! as one of her arrows sank into an eyeball.
"Um. I think so?" A bash sent another short... ugly smelly thing... that got too close to the ground. She stabbed it gingerly in the throat, cringing from the spray of blood. "Oh god gross. Uh, Allie was her name, right? I was at the bottom of like three cups of Mad Dog, why are you asking me?" If she pretended that she was just helping her mother cut up a deer carcass, she MIGHT get through this without losing her lunch.
"Because you have more clothes on than me?" Another careful aim, let the breath out, loose, thwack!
"I think they're running away?" She lowered the bow and looked around.
"Like four square inches!" Another smack with the shield. She really did prefer that to the stabbing part. Much less... disgusting. "And my head hurts! And these things are loud. And I'm probably going to keep whining until- running away?" She let her scavenged weapons fall to her sides, arms trembling with strain.
"And we're... not dead. Not dead is good." A pause as she bent over, dropping the sword to brace one hand on her knee and pant. "I hope."
"No, it seems you're quite alive."
New voice, smooth and calming voice. The blond squeaked and pasted herself to the brunette's side, holding the shield up like a...
Shield.
The brunette twitched, shifting the shield to cover her friend a little more effectively. It was a lot heavier than it had seemed during the fight. The wonders of adrenaline.
"Through no fault of our own, I'm sure." A quick glance, sizing up dark hair, beard, the lines on his forehead, and... armor? Plate. No. Half-plate. Maybe. He was older at least. And had blades. Looked like he could use them. Right. Respect. "...sir?"
The man appeared to respect their wariness, keeping his distance and lowering (though not sheathing) his blades. "I am Duncan, of the Gray Wardens. This is Daveth," he gestured to another dark-haired fellow, scruffy and moderately handsome, "And this is Ser Jory," a gesture to a homely red-haired man, thick-bodied with muscle. "Recruits. We travel to Ostagar."
She turned, making wary and confused eye contact with her blonde friend.
She met her friend's eye and raised her head above the shield. "I'd really love to ask you what Ostagar is, but I have a feeling that would just make my head hurt. I'm Shai. Do you have clothes to spare?"
"I... yeah. The being naked is kinda disconcerting outside and during the day. And free. Um. Never mind. I'm Edana. Clothes would be good. And maybe then we could ask you some questions?" Her voice was hopeful.
"I will answer any questions I may," Duncan replied gravely. "But first I must ask one of my own. Did any blood from the Darkspawn splash into your mouth? Either of you."
"I... don't think so?" Edana said. "But... we were drinking last night and my head hurts and my mouth feels like I've been cleaning a public bathroom with my tongue and I don't know if I could tell. Shai? What about you?"
"There's just so much of it..." She shivered. Then she realized she was bleeding. It was just a shallow cut on her biceps, slowly oozing a fresh path of blood down the splatter on her arm. She tried to hold the panic from her voice. "So, what about in a wound? Or does it have to be ingested?"
Duncan's face was grave, making Edana's stomach drop into her non-existent boots.
"It may yet not be a problem. But it does mean that you will need to travel with us, at least for a time." He tilted his head curiously. "This was not your farm, then, if you are asking to borrow clothing."
"No, no it's not," Edana said, her voice quivering. "But clothes first. Then explanations. It's going to be a long story, I think." Her hand clutched at Shai's wrist, probably a little too tight.
"We couldn't get here in time to save the family," the one named Daveth said. "Shame that, but maybe there's somethin' inside you can use."
"Can't we disinfect it or something?" Shai asked frantically. "I know you probably don't have Lysol or anything, but surely there's sage? Rosemary? Lavender? Mint?" Her voice grew increasingly shrill with each word.
"Please, Miss, calm down," the one called Jory (What kind of honorific was Ser?) pleaded.
Edana fell into comforting-and-reassurance mode instinctively, her own fear and panic shunted aside for the moment. "Come on, hon," she said, tugging Shai toward the small crude farmhouse. "If this is a farm, they're damn near sure to have some hooch or poteen or something. It'll burn like hell, but sticks-grade 'shine will kill just about anything you pour it on."
She put her free arm around Shai's shoulders and urged her gently toward the house, her stomach churning at the way the slick stickiness of the blood that covered them burned her skin. Staring down at the corpses that littered the field, she mentally crossed her fingers that what Duncan feared was only infection.
"Water first," she was quite firm. She tried not to notice the bodies as she searched the farm-yard for a well. "Pointless to get clothes if we're just going to get them covered in blood," she mumbled.
"There," she pulled Edana toward the round stone wall. The bucket had been knocked into the well at some point, and Shai's arms burned with the effort of bringing it up, but she'd done worse to get clean.
"Here, rinse your mouth first," Edana said, grabbing a dipper from a hook on the well bucket crank's uprights. "That Duncan guy seemed most worried about that part."
They took turns with the water, cleaning their mouths and bodies as best they could. Before they were even done, Daveth was standing awkwardly nearby with an armload of cloth and a small earthenware jug.
"I took the liberty of, well, takin some liberties," he said with a small smile. "And besides cloth, you were looking for some brew, you said. A bit of the hair of the dog, eh?"
"That," Edana said fervently, "Is the very least of it. Thank you."
She took the jug and uncorked it, offering it to Shai. "Disinfect the inside first, then we'll do the outside."
She fit the jug to her elbow and downed a gulp. It took every bit of willpower not to spit it right back out. She forced the liquid down, then coughed, eyes watering. "I think we used that to clean our weapons once."
She carefully avoided looking outside, where Jory and Duncan were stacking bodies into one very neat pile, and one very messy one.
Edana retrieved the jug, took an eye-watering swig, and coughed as it went down. "Ugh, new meaning to firewater, that's for sure. Here, let me take care of your arm before we do anything else."
She struggled with the unwieldy jug and the angle, finally propping it on her knee to tip some of the contents into her hand.
"Okay. Deep breath, then breathe out *hard*."
Daveth frowned, looking more than a little confused.
The hard exhale turned into a keening hiss between clenched teeth. More tears came, but she nodded in satisfaction. "Something to wrap it and we're good to go." She paused, noticed Daveth's smirk. "After we get dressed."
"Yeah. Clothes." She shook out the dresses with a frown, handing one over. "I... might be better off in trousers. This is gonna swim on me, no matter how I belt or tie it."
"It's the smallest they had," Daveth said, a little apologetically.
"Oh, it's not your fault," she said with a smile. "I do appreciate you making the effort." She tried to hide the way her hands were shaking. "I'll just go take a quick look. For shoes, too. I need to visit the... outhouse... anyway."
She marched quickly away, wobbling slightly. The privy door slammed behind her, and retching could be faintly heard.
Shai heard footsteps as Duncan and Jory came up behind her. "As soon as you are able, it is time to move on."
