Chapter 15: Battle on the Docks
Madness!
That was the only way to describe it, one minute Royce had been talking to the guardsman, and the next they were in the middle of a free for all on the docks of Kirkwall.
Kierhen brought up his bow but could not fire; too many of his allies were in the way. Lady stayed close to her companion, awaiting his command of who to attack. Lyna was roaring as she engaged the guardsmen, her Mabari at her side. Royce who had started this mess, showed equal disregard for the law, he struck down another of the armored warriors who now blocked their path, forcing them to try to fall back and regroup.
The Ranger shook his head.
He had thought the man the most stable of their group, to see him go insane like this did not fit what he knew about the shemlen warrior.
Esme stayed behind Royce and Lyna, blocking and occasionally jabbing with her staff. Sabine had her daggers out, while Bok drew his own weapons. The rogues kept just inside the warriors' guard, ready to pick off any enemies who got lucky enough to get through Lyna and Royce's wall of steel.
Findel had retreated into the shadows. Kierhen did not know what to make of that, he had seen the boy fight in the woods; he had been a terror, seeing him shy away from battle now did not set the best precedence for his future in their little company. The boy was…
Arrows rained down from above.
The bolts sent the Ranger staggering back. Royce caught one in the shoulder, while Bok just managed to bat one away from his chest.
"On the roof, on the right," the dwarf shouted.
Kierhen looked up.
"They have friends."
The ranger's eyes narrowed.
No shit. dwarf, he thought grimly.
Kierhen counted no less than six archers, as they fired another volley, another wave of warriors descended down on ropes. These did not wear the armor of city guardsmen; in fact their armor had a distinctive foreign cut that Kierhen did not recognize.
Not that it mattered where they came from right now.
He brought up his bow and fired.
Here were targets that he could see.
He caught one in the neck sending him tumbling off the building. One of the new wave of warriors tried to engage him, but Lady brought the man down and ripped out his throat.
"Kierhen, Findel," he heard Lyna shout, "Bring down those archers."
The Ranger did not have time to check where Findel was; perhaps he was still cowering in the shadows. If the boy was, that left dealing with the archers to him.
Another wonderful task he had to somehow pull off.
Another volley rained down on them. The only thing that had saved them up to this point was that their attackers were not going for kill shots. He had thought he had heard at the start of the battle that the officer wished to preserve the women for some reason.
Their decision to pull their shots would likely be the guardsmen undoing.
Kierhen fired at another of the archers and missed, the man fell back just in time. Again another of the attackers managed to get past the warriors and tried to strike at him directly. He was forced to drop his bow and draw his sword and dagger. He blocked the man's attack and ended him quickly with a slice across the belly, and then the throat.
It was at that moment that one of the archers decided to try and take him out of the equation; the man popped up and fired what would have likely been a killing shot to the head or throat.
Kierhen whirled around, but was in no position to dodge or block, he did not even have time to back pedal.
THUNK!
The arrow struck home, not in his chest or in his face…
…but in Lyna's forearm.
He had not seen the warden move from her position, but here she was, shielding him from a killing blow.
His eyes widened in shock and surprise.
Lyna's wrist guard had been out of position, the arrow had caught her in the meat of her forearm, and passed through to the other side, there it had stopped. It's head a mere hand length from his throat.
He looked up at their leader in shock. What she had done. It…it was unbelievable.
She glared at him, showing no pain from the wound.
"Take those archers down," she spat, before returning to the line of advancing attackers.
Almost on automatic Kierhen fired two quick arrows, one managed to catch one of his enemies in the eye.
Still the ranger was in shock, what he had seen, what she had done!
He…he had no words for that.
Since losing his father, he had hated the Dalish folk, blamed them for everything that had happened since. They were honor less in his eyes, wasting their lives trying to bring back something that was gone forever.
What Lyna had done, it…it was not something he had expected from one of the people.
Now he understood why Felassan and his allies wanted the warden on their side.
Such bravery…it should not simply be tossed away.
He glanced her way for a moment. She was currently fighting the guard officer that had first approached them, a longsword in each hand. He did not see her ax, which suggested that she might have thrown it early in the fight, perhaps taking out one of their opponents doing so.
In that moment, he realized that he could not let her down, that he would do his best to see those archers stopped before they could wound or kill any of their companions.
His problems with the Dalish did not extend to Lyna, not anymore.
She had proven herself different this day.
He heard Royce cry out in pain. The warrior had been struck in the thigh by one of the arrows raining down on them. He stumbled and fell to his knees. Esme was there to catch him, but no longer was Lyna and the rogues able to hold off the guardsmen and their reinforcements.
Their enemies surged forward.
It was at that moment on the edge of the battlefield, a lone figure stepped out of the shadows. He was in dark brown robes, with gold embroidery and fine fur collared cloak. In his right hand he carried a staff, with a flickering crystal on the top.
He glared at the battle before him.
"Fools," he shouted in a foreign accent, "Secure this merchandise, what in Andraste's name am I paying you for?!"
It was in that moment that Kierhen realized why Royce had attacked the guards; they were not here on official business, if they were even guards at all.
The man raised his staff speaking in harsh tones, a wave of shadows swept over the battlefield.
As soon as it touched Kierhen his mind turned to mush.
It was a strange sensation, like being drunk, the ground moved like waves beneath his feet, he could barely concentrate to nock another arrow.
It was in that moment that he realized that they were all likely lost. He saw Bok get knocked down. Lyna tried to reach the mage, but found her way blocked by no less than five soldiers.
Kierhen fired off an arrow, but missed, the spell's effect on his perceptions made any legitimate targeting impossible at this point.
He managed to dodge another arrow…barely.
He dropped his bow and drew his sword and dagger again.
It would not be enough, he realized, they had lost.
A guard struck Lyna sending her sprawling, He moved quickly to disarm her while she was still dazed.
It was at that moment that they heard the cry, a sound like a wounded animal, one so wounded and maddened by pain that it could not be stopped.
It was at that moment that Findel finally entered the battlefield. He spun shouting Dalish curses into the night sky.
An inferno blazed from his hands.
IOI
The archers had been caught completely off guard, they had not had time to dodge, jump down or even scream. The fire washed over them, cleansing the roof of their presence.
The foreign mage, having noticed the attack tried to raise his staff, to stop the boy before he could do any more damage.
Wailing, Findel threw fireballs at the man, they didn't just hit they exploded around him, breaking the mage's concentration.
The shadows covering Lyna and her allies dissipated.
Kierhen felt the sharpness of his mind return; it was like waking from a fever dream.
He nocked an arrow, and fired, the shot caught the so called guard officer in throat.
Findel's attack had done what it had needed, it had caused a distraction, opened the door for Lyna and her allies to recover.
They did not waste that opportunity.
They went on the attack.
Even with her injuries Lyna charged. One of the mages soldiers tried to get in her way, but caught a shot from Kierhen and his recovered bow.
Findel continued to blast away with fire. He was doing damage, but there was no control, only power spinning out of hand.
Kierhen's eyes narrowed.
The boy was going to need a proper teacher if he was to be of any use to them.
The foreign mage, perhaps sensing that the battle had turned against him tried to flee.
Lyna shouted for Arrow to pursue, to make sure that the man did not escape.
The hound bounded off on his mistress' orders, eager to taste the blood of the man who had nearly ended them all here.
Bok ended the life of the last of their attackers, his mace smashing in the man's skull. The dwarf shook his head at the chaos around them, even as he inspected several minor wounds on his face and left shoulder.
"Quite the welcoming parties they throw here in Kirkwall," he said with a snort, "I'm surprised that everyone does not want to come here."
Findel did not hear him; the boy could likely not hear anything right now. He looked almost catatonic, staring at the direction that the foreign mage had fled. Flames still licked at the palms of his hands.
He might have followed the Mabari's trail had Lyna not stopped him.
She took the boy's face in her hands.
"It is over Findel," she gasped, "You can stop now."
The boy did not even acknowledge her, his eyes were wide and wild. He started to raise his hand again, a new fireball beginning to form.
Lyna's grip on his face tightened, her eyes narrowed.
"Da'len," she snarled, "I am talking to you."
Kierhen and Bok had begun to raise their weapons, just in case the boy chose not to obey the warden's orders, which proved to be unnecessary.
The boy blinked, and shook his head. The fire faded from his hands.
He shook his head, looking like he had just awakened from a sound sleep.
He looked into their leader's eyes.
"Warden," he murmured, "Lyna?"
She smiled.
"Yes, da'len, I am here, good work, mage."
His lip quivered and he threw his arms around her neck. Though she was clearly uncomfortable she did nothing to break their embrace.
The boy needed her reassurance; he had done well, but almost lost control in the process.
He needed to know she was not angry with him.
When the boy did finally release her, she made her way over to Royce. The human was lying against one of the stone walls, several arrows sticking out of his body.
The warden's eyes narrowed.
"How did you know?" she asked.
The wounded warrior chuckled and coughed.
"The boy's armor was filthy," Royce almost moaned, "A good captain would have had him scrubbing the privies for going out on the street looking like that. Then…then there was his steel."
Royce coughed again.
"Recruits are not allowed fine blades like that. Young guardsmen have a high enough mortality rate as it is. We don't want kids getting killed for their fancy new blades in their first month on the job. They have to make due with stock weapons, at least until we know they can handle themselves, they…
He suffered another coughing fit; blood spattered the ground in front of them.
Esme looked terrified.
"He is hurt too bad," she whimpered.
She looked up at Findel.
"Do you know any healing spells?"
The boy shook his head.
The sister cursed under her breath.
"I…I don't think I can help him," she almost sobbed, "Not with the supplies I brought with me."
Royce slumped over.
"No," Esme whimpered.
"No. Royce. No!"
Lyna was about to go to him, when she heard the sound of boot prints approaching, many boots, many people.
"Weapons out," she ordered.
Kierhen and Bok drew their blades, and waited to see who was coming.
If the foreign mage brought back more friends…
Arrow bounded up to his mistress, barking and bouncing excitedly. Behind him appeared another Mabari, a little older perhaps, but a bit more seasoned.
Following close behind him, were his owner, and what she assumed was the owner's companions.
The first was a young woman with short black hair and pale unblemished skin. Behind her followed a blond haired dwarf with no beard and a duster coat, some kind of strange crossbow like weapon in his hands. Next to him was a woman in well cared for heavy plate, her ginger hair pulled back by a hand band and ponytail, the sigil of Kirkwall adorned her breast. She looked like a city guard, a true city guard. Lyna could not make out the fourth; he stayed too far behind the larger guardswoman.
The dark haired leader took in the scene, concern radiated from her blue eyes.
"Are you all alright?" she asked.
Lyna's eyes narrowed.
The girl sounded Fereldan.
It was Esme who answered her voice one step below panic.
"Our Friend is dying," she shouted, "He needs healing magic!"
The dark haired woman stepped forward, her hands already beginning to glow with blue energy.
Lyna tried to block her.
The dark haired mage smirked at her.
"I can bump into you, or save your friend, your choice," she said with a cheery smile.
Lyna glared at her, but backed up.
"Thanks," the woman said kneeling next to Royce, "Your friend's chances of survival just went from slim, to maybe."
Lyna shook her head at the smart mouthed mage, but realized she had no choice.
They needed healing magic.
They needed to save Royce.
It was then that that red haired guard noticed the arrow sticking through Lyna's forearm.
"You're hurt," she exclaimed.
Lyna gave her a cold sneer.
"Really, I hadn't noticed."
The dark haired mage chuckled.
"Not now, Hawke," the warrior exclaimed.
"Sorry," she said, "Just never met a quip that I didn't like."
The dwarf snorted.
"Hey blondie," he shouted, "Take a look at this elf's arm, she needs your special touch."
"I'm coming Varric," a voice answered, followed by footsteps, "I'm…"
The man froze in front of Lyna, his eyes widened, his mouth dropped open.
Hers did the same.
"Lyna," he almost gasped.
She was left speechless for a moment. She had never expected to see this man again, never.
"Anders?" she murmured.
The mage, he looked a little slimmer than she remembered, not to mention dirtier, but it clearly was Anders. The same blue coat with the feather pauldrons, same blonde hair, though it was longer and dirtier than it had ever been during his days in the keep, but that did not change the fact that it was him.
It was Anders.
The mage smiled slightly.
"Lyna," he said, "I…I never expected to see you again."
The dwarf with the crossbow gave him an arched look.
"You know this gal, Blondie?"
Anders smiled.
"Yes…I…"
He never got to finish.
Anger flashed in Lyna's eyes, she lashed out with her wounded arm, striking him with a punch that would have felled a hurlock.
The mage's jaw clicked, he spun around and fell flat on the stones unconscious.
Both the guard and her dwarven companion looked on in disbelief.
"Damn," Lyna hissed, now that the rage had ended she became acutely aware of physical pain, she shook her fist, thinking she might have just broken her hand.
"Shit," she spat.
Anders' dwarven friend did something then that she did not quite expect.
He chuckled and sheathed his crossbow.
"Yup," the dwarf said, "You definitely know Blondie already.
Lyna looked down at the groaning mage.
She shook her damaged hand. She probably should have waited until he had healed her to strike him, but she could not help it.
If he had been hiding here in Kirkwall the whole time…?
Her ears lowered in anger, as she grumbled under her breath.
He had deserved that, she thought.
"Bastard."