The evening before they were to reach Cumberland, the ship's ultimate destination, Amell started packing. There was not much to pack, exactly: a few lyrium potions, the map, the book she never got to finish, but as she was about to put away her old Circle robes, she unfolded them and gave them a once-over. She'd managed through some effort to wash out the blood (and if there was once thing she'd learned on the road, it was how to deal with bloodstains), but the hole seemed even wider than before. She would have tried her hand at sewing it up, because Wynne had taught her how, but she knew she was not very good at it and she would most likely end up ruining the robes.
She traced the smooth edges of the tear and felt a strange shiver go through her left shoulder. The cut had long since healed, leaving behind only smooth, slightly discolored skin. That was not what was bothering her.
She glanced furtively at Sten, who at that moment was meditating, eyes closed, sitting on the mattress like a wolf ready to pounce at a moment's notice. He looked serene, an odd adjective to use for someone who looked as menacing as he did. Her eyes wandered to his hands and brought back unexpected memories of warmth.
Shaking her head, she shoved the robes into her pack. They weren't very appropriate for the weather, anyway, she decided.
* * *
The weather, as Amell had noticed, was truly different from that of Ferelden.
Ferelden was wet and muddy, all the better to accentuate the cold. Winters were miserable. Springs brought floods more often than not. Summers were marginally drier and lukewarm, but they still managed to feel hot to Fereldans, who were used to much lower temperatures. And autumns were notoriously rainy.
But the further north one went, the warmer it became and Amell had never been quite this far north before. Now she definitely noticed, as she stood on the deck, taking in the alluring outlines of Cumberland in the distance, that the air here had a different quality. It seemed warmer and softer, somehow, completely unlike the biting winds of Ferelden.
"I never noticed before how miserable the weather was in Ferelden," she told Sten.
"An astounding oversight on your part," he replied to this.
Amell only grinned.
* * *
The city of Cumberland felt truly foreign to the mage. It was markedly different from Ostwick, which gave the impression of being an over-large fishing village rather than a city. The building were made of chalky-white stone, as smooth as marble. The ground floors of most buildings were completely open on one side, the floor above being held up with wooden pillars bearing beautiful carvings of flowers or vines. Many potted plants seemed to decorate the windows of the houses, as well as bright drapes, striped in unusual nuances.
The people here were... louder, in some ways. They wore layered clothing in clashing colors, as well as bandanas on their heads or around the necks. The slightly richer looking individuals had large wide-brimmed hats with exotic feathers and flowers and most of the women had beads braided in their hair. They were also a great deal more energetic than Fereldans and their conversations seemed to require ample and spasmodic gesturing, punctuated by laughs or other vocalizations.
Amell was beginning to understand what it meant to be a stranger in a strange land. They were barely off the docks and she already felt oddly displaced. She threw Sten a sympathetic glance. He caught it, making her look away awkwardly.
"Is all well, kadan?" he asked.
"It's... everything's fine. You're just very far away from home, I realized," she shrugged.
"As far away as you will be from your own, once we reach Seheron," he pointed out.
"True enough," she smiled. "Where are we going now?... Sten?"
But he was no longer paying her any attention. He was looking over her head at something in the distance, tense and battle-ready. This alarmed her enough that she stepped aside and followed his gaze to...
The Tal'Vashoth. Crowds of sailors and passengers alike parted before the two giants as they stalked towards Sten and her, their stance aggressive (predatory, almost) and while their swords were still sheathed, their hands were gripping the hilts.
The karashok still walked with a slight limp. He had survived his previous battle with Sten only on account of the ship's crew breaking it up. He was clearly of a mind to remedy the situation and recover his pride, injuries be damned.
They stopped mere steps away from Sten, both bristling with barely contained violence, though the older one did a slightly better job with the containing part.
If Amell had to guess, the problem was that they'd figured out Ashaad's fate. She was surprised by the odd timing of this, however. Perhaps they were expecting Ashaad to meet them here, in this port, if he truly did miss the ship? And once here, how did they find out so quickly that Ashaad was beyond contacting anyone at all?
The Tal'Vashoth officer snarled something in Qunari-- and if there was one thing to be said about the language, it was how threatening it really sounded.
Sten replied with something that apparently did nothing to appease them, because now they seemed angrier, and the officer's red eyes drifted to Amell. The mage felt herself being pierced by the searching gaze and took a step back. It wasn't because she was intimidated by him (although, in truth, she was), but because in a fight, she found it best to keep her distance from assailants.
The officer said something, probably about her (judging by the direction of his gaze) and probably something accusatory (which would not have been completely untrue; she did kill Ashaad, though saying it was in self-defense would not have cut much water with him, Amell feared).
The conversation was cut short, however, as the karashok, struck by impatience, sprung to attack Sten. The Qunari drew Asala and blocked easily, but this prompted the officer to pick the other available target, that being Amell.
The mage jumped back as the Tal'Vashoth reared up to strike her, brandishing her staff and reflexively calling forth lightning. Sten, sensing her distress, kicked the karashok squarely in the stomach and, in one fluid motion, blocked the officer's advance. Their swords clashed with a resounding sound and Amell concentrated her attention on the karashok, instead.
She attempted to freeze him in place, but either the air was too warm or her spell had been too hastily done, because this only slowed him down. He was still barreling towards Sten, but Amell was quicker than a giant man in heavy armor, so she quickly intercepted him and, with unexpected precision, his the back of his knee with her staff, tripping him to the ground. Not missing a beat she flung lightning and, now that he was riled up and ready to attack her, used a stone fist to send him flying towards the ground once again. He seemed dazed and not in any condition to get up again. Blood was seeping through his armor, not anywhere she'd hit him, so presumably it was a previous injury from his battle with Sten.
As a precaution, Amell stomped on his hand, making him release the sword's hilt, and kicked it away from him before returning her attention to Sten's fight.
Sten and the other Tal'Vashoth seemed equally matched, at least in the sense that they seemed to have sustained an equal number of injuries. Amell sent a well-aimed arcane bolt in the officer's direction, hitting him right between the eyes. She'd once gotten an arcane bolt to the face, too, so she knew he was blinded and disoriented. Sten wasted no time in taking this advantage. The Tal'Vashoth's throat was sliced open; he croaked guturally and fell back, dead.
Amell gave a nervous look to the circle of onlookers which had gathered around the fight. They seemed to shrink away from her attention and soon dispersed.
Sten sheathed his sword. A gash on his forehead sent blood and sweat trickling down his brow and temple, and he wiped his face before it could get in his eyes.
"How come everywhere we go, we seem to get into fights?" Amell asked with a sigh. "I thought that would end once we left Ferelden."
"Then it is fortunate you are not alone on this journey, kadan, because you underestimate the dangers of this world."