Chains of Blood

by Setrus

Champions aren't trained, they're made, through coincidence and hardships, potential is forged into ability. And as old and new conflicts ignite into something more, that ability will be sorely tested... T for violence and possible romance, not a simple retelling of the game, where would the fun in that be?

54. Chapter 54

"Well that was a disaster."

Garrett rolled his eyes, watching his mother sweep into their hallway, a silent Orana and Fenn moving to take her coat, which the woman shrugged off without a glance backwards. Mother... Garrett offered the pair of elves a thankful nod even as the woman moved to put Leandra's coat away while Fenn moved to assist Garrett who by now had already shrugged his off and held it out, well aware how little the servants liked it when he put the stuff away himself.

"I've never had to endure so many...suggestive questions in my life." Leandra shook her hair loose, the grey threads curling in the lamplight, shining like silver. "I know that that elf – sorry, Merrill – is nice and that you...like her, but Maker..."

Garrett bit back an angry retort as he instead shrugged. "I don't know, I think it went quite well." He couldn't help but make his irritation drive him to speak again though. "Besides, I'm surprised you heard anything, the way you were glued to Comte De Launcet for most of the party." He reached down, scratching Maric behind the ear, the dog a statue at his feet, listening in on the conversation like a bored sentry.

Leandra turned to face him, sighing in irritation. "We've been over this, we're old friends, him and I, plus he's one of the few nobles not rendered uncertain about you after today...he told me so himself." Did he now? Because he meant it, or because it was you he talked to? Garrett scowled, making Leandra shake her head. "Don't throw away a friend. Surely you would see the foolishness of that above anyone? Especially in the wake of this evening?"

"I suppose..." Garrett winced, nodding to admit Leandra had a point. "Still, it wasn't as bad as you make it out to be. Charles might have a few smart things to say about me at times, but he's still an ally, if only in business. Lowyn might be upset, but she probably can't go against the will of her daughter...did you know Cecei has multiple lovers and didn't much care for marrying me? I asked around."

"Well...there might been a few whispers..." Leandra admitted, shifting where she stood. "I just figured that with you and her together she would...I don't know..." An exasperated sigh and her shoulders slumped. "I just wanted what's best for my child...but I guess you'll keep forging your own path, eh?" She smiled at the end. "If Merrill-"

"We're not-"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you're not." Leandra rolled her eyes, then smiled at Garrett's frown. "Anyway, change of subject...you think it's not as bad as suggested by those I spoke to and overheard? I...hope you're right." She winced. "I'm not sure we'll be invited next time though...or if they do, what kind of a reception we'll get."

"A later problem." Garrett shrugged. "Right now, I still have some damage-control to do, but it's more manageable than I anticipated."

Leandra smiled softly at that. "Always the planner...was it worth it?"

Next to him, Maric suddenly looked up, the dog looking as curious as Garrett's mother.

Garrett hesitated at the question, eyebrows coming together in thought. I got to speak to someone I like, over something other than platitudes and veiled business-deals, I got to learn about the Dalish constellations and got to avoid the headache Cecei might have become...and I got to enjoy myself at a party. "Yes."

"Hmm." Leandra smiled, not saying anything, but the smile made Garrett grunt in irritation anyway. When she did speak, it was for yet another change of subject. "And Meredith? I – well everyone – saw you speaking with her." Leandra winced, suddenly wringing her hands. "You think it's wise to antagonize her...?"

"I think someone should have done so years ago." Garrett grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not going to shy away from her because she has an army at her back, she's not some foreign occupier, but part of a religious order supposedly separate from the state. She needs to be reminded of this."

"Yes...but that army you mentioned...not to mention that Carver is..."

Garrett chuckled. "What is she going to do? Turn it on me and the city? The Divine would have her head on a plate by next week, not to mention it would make the entirety of the Free Marches and maybe other nations expel the order out of fear of similar insurrections. The fear of her is founded on a fear of the most foolish and illogical action she could ever do, and therefore won't." Garrett shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "And I just showed how toothless she really is, and when others realise that, they'll stop acting like she's the true ruler of Kirkwall." And possibly stop pretending the Viscount is as well...it would be nice to get access to more of the administration of the city, too much is run with half-measures and inefficient solutions.

"If you say so..." Leandra grimaced, taking a step back. "Just be careful, not everyone will see this as you, nor are they all as logical."

Garrett frowned. "I suppose, but you can't really expect Meredith to-"

The entrance of Bastile, in armour, made Garrett and Leandra turn, the conversation ending abruptly as they saw the grim look on the warrior's face, the cane he was leaning on held more like a sword than an actual support now. The Orlesian's face was fixed on Garrett. "Serah, you have guests."

Garrett, exchanging a puzzled look with Leandra, was hesitant to ask. "What guests...? Who?"

"Two men and a woman, the woman's an elf calling herself Athenril." Maric, silent as the reaper, rose to his feet, teeth silently bared. Oh no. "She claims she knows you...?" The man shook his head, grim look turning yet harsher. "I nearly showed her the door, but she suggested that that would be a bad idea..." The Orlesian raised his chin in anger, a defiant glow in his eyes. "I decided to have them wait for you."

Leandra was wringing her hands. "Garrett..."

"Where are they now?"

"In the guest hall." Large, open, multiple doors, good choice...

"Son, please, I don't like-"

"Fenn, Orana, escort my mother to her chambers."

Leandra blinked, a look of fear on her face. "Son, I don't want you to get involved with her again, please-"

We're not discussing this, I'll deal with it. Garrett shot his mother a hard look, silencing her. "Now, if you please."

Instantly, the two elves were moving to his mother's side, the woman by now frightened enough to meekly go with them, her neck turning to look at Garrett, afraid for him, for what might happen. She's not the powerful one of us this time, mother, it'll be fine...but you should not be around when this goes down. "Bastile...?"

The Orlesian met Garrett's gaze and offered a single nod. Good, you've prepared things if they're needed. "You wish to speak with her alone, Serah?"

"Yes, please." At first, anyway. Garrett looked down to the so far silent Maric, his shadow. "That doesn't include you, by the way." The dog gave loose a low growl of agreement.

With that, Garrett brushed past Bastile with long strides, his dark eyes barely acknowledging the odd servant brushing past, nor the grim-looking guards appearing more and more frequently as he passed his great hall and moved towards the guest-quarters.

She dares show her face here? Dares 'suggest' to Bastile that throwing her out would be a bad idea? Dares think I'd want anything to do with her?

She'll learn otherwise.

All too soon he was facing the door to the guest-quarters, behind which would be the hall. A red door, how fitting. Garrett took a deep breath, his anger over the intrusion of a past best left behind focused into a heated blade...and entered.

The room was simple, a large square chamber of white and blue mosaics, two closed doors on each side, leading to various rooms such as baths, bedrooms and a variety of lounges. There were other entrances to those rooms, but none a guest would know of. The hall itself had no furniture save a round fountain dominating its centre.

Two men in patched and dirty leathers were standing on either side of the fountain, arms crossed over their chests, knives in their belts...and dirty faces displaying a mix of grimness as well as exhaustion. Tough men, but at the edge of endurance.

Athenril looked better, if only marginally, the woman sitting on the fountain's rim, one hand lazily drawing patterns in the water. Her leather armour was gashed along her left arm, but there was no blood to be seen, nor was she all that dusty, a glistening of her blond hair and pointed ears showing she'd washed it and her face in the fountain. There was no hiding the tiny gash across her left cheek though, nor the bags under her eyes, as she turned what Garrett supposed was meant to be a charming smile his way. "Well if it isn't my old brother in arms, Hawke...and look at you, all snazzy and proper. Been turned into a proper lord-ling, have you?"

"Don't call me brother." Garrett snapped, crossing his arms over his chest as Maric sat down next to him "What do you want?" At his feet, Maric let loose a growl so low it was barely audible...and one of the men with Athenril took a step back.

Athenril ignored the dog, let loose a tsk, and shook her head as she with familiar smoothness rose to her feet, the rogue as skilled as when he'd left her and the Footpads. "Oh come now, we left on...well not good terms, but fairly okay ones, did we not? And what's that, but water under the bridge? We're still old companions, no?"

Garrett arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. "And old companions help one another, no?" The rhetoric question was spoken so dryly that Athenril took a step back before Garrett spoke again, gaze darting between the two men by the fountain. "So is this what's left of the Footpads? I'm guessing you kept taking on the Coterie?" Not much of a guess, with me talking to Varric and all. "I told you that was unwise."

"Yes, and you were right, as always...feel better?" For a moment, Athenril's smile faltered, the tired woman behind showing...then she was grinning once more. "We can't all be as smart as you, you know, but you're ready to help out for old times' sake, right?"

Garrett shook his head. You got to be joking... "For old times sake, I ought to send you to Aveline, you know, the Captain of the guard." He scowled at the three before him as they stiffened at the name. Could raise questions though... "However, since I'm feeling generous, I'm going to tell you to leave instead. Crawl into Dark-town, the Coterie might not find you there."

Now it was Athenril's time to scowl, a dark look of anger that Garrett recognised. You're about to do something foolish, aren't you? "You think you can just brush me off like that, Hawke? I know things, things about you...your family..." She smirked, a cool and calculating look. "You think I wouldn't talk? Wouldn't go to Meredith and whoever else might listen?"

The thought made a jolt of fear shoot through Garrett spine. Yet it passed quickly and didn't register on his face as he after a mere moment of thought scoffed at the woman. "You go then, tell Meredith of how you helped smuggle in a rogue mage and how you used her abilities. If she doesn't gut you right there, she might let you tell her about me...and I'll deny all accusations. She has no proof, and can't simply execute me without that...you, however..." He shrugged, smile as cool and calculating as Athenril's, even as the elf's wavered. "But you could always tell the other nobles. I'm sure the testament of one criminal elf from Low-town will weigh heavily against a well-respected noble of High-town...if there wasn't such accusations thrown around every other week, that is." Athenril's smile was completely gone as Garrett shook his head. "You have nothing to barter with, no leverage, leave."

Next to Garrett, Maric rose to his feet, teeth bared in a silent snarl.

For a moment, Athenril looked like a cornered animal. Then she eyed Garrett with narrowed eyes, seemingly calculating the distance between them...and coming up short as her gaze darted to the now growling Maric. Yes, bad idea. "If you stay for much longer, I will get the guard."

Athenril didn't leave though, she took a bold step forward, refusing to heed Maric's warning growl as the Mabari tensed, ready to leap. The elf, pointing an accusing finger at Garrett, eyes narrowed but irises large as she struggled to contain her fear with anger, spat out her threat. "You think you're so high and mighty?! Untouchable Hawke, the big lord!? You forget, I know who you are, everyone does, and I know who your friends are!" Garrett stiffened, making Athenril grin. "Oh yes, didn't think about that, did you? Didn't think I could come prepared? Well you throw me on the street and see what happens...see how clever that dwarf buddy of yours will look face down in the harbour. See how good your mage is at healing people without hands, how good that pirate will look without those shapely legs of hers and that handsome white-haired elf might not look so handome in a day or so...and how will that Dalish bitch handle being without ears?"

"BASTILE!"

Garrett's bark made every door in the chamber slam open, over two dozen of Garrett's guards pouring in, Bastile appearing right behind his lord, the blade hidden in his cane drawn and ready, mouth a bitter line. "Orders, Serah?" Around the three suddenly wide-eyed rogues, Orlesians and Fereldians alike levelled spears, swords and halberds at them, a ring of steel points surrounding the three thieves.

Athenril's smile was a faltering, trembling thing. "Y-you're really going to throw me out...? You're killing me that way, you know? And I...I..." She glanced at the nearest halberd, the spike long enough to rival a short-sword's blade...and swallowed. "Please...?"

Please? Garrett felt a fist of ice squeezing his heart, his entire being becoming cold as frozen steel. "Who said anything about throwing you out...?" The words hung there...and then Athenril's eyes widened in understanding. "You shouldn't have threatened my friends." Garrett held Athenril's gaze as he spoke. "Guards..."

A blur of moment...and the two thugs at Athenril's side launched themselves at her back, suddenly drawn daggers thumping into her back. One of the men pulled an arm over her throat, choking away her gasp of pain even as his dagger exited and entered her back once more, the other ripped his blade and moving it around the stiff elf before slamming the blade deep into her chest.

Two seconds later, the elf was lying on her side in a pool of her own blood, dead eyes staring at nothing as her lips moved on their own accord, making only blood pour out from between them.

Garrett looked down at the elf in surprise...then a clatter of steel drew his attention, making him watch the two thugs slip to their knees and throw their daggers aside, hands held high in the air. "Se-Serah...m'lo-lord...I...w-we s-surrender...?" The leftmost man muttered, head held low in submission, his body visibly shaking.

The other man whimpered, silent, a dark patch in front of his trousers appearing as one of Garrett's guards inched closer, spear grazing the back of his neck.

Garrett stared at them, still too surprised by the turn of events to react. Athenril's dead... Garrett looked to the elf, her lips now still, the blood pumping out of her wounds going still as her body finally caught up to the fact that it was dead. The elf...no, woman who...used me and..

Good.

Finally, Garrett turned to look at the two thugs. "Look at me." The leftmost raised his head instantly, eyes wide with fear, making him look more like a cow than a human. "You too, look at me." The other man hesitated, looking down at the mark of shame on his trousers. "Look at me." Finally, the man relented, teary eyes hesitantly meeting Garrett's stern ones. "Neither of you will ever join a gang again. You will either get a real job, or you will leave my city, understood?" The two mumbled acceptance...and Garrett sharpened his tone. "Understood?"

"Yes!" Both whimpered in unison, looking back down again.

"If you disobey this command, I'll find out..." Garrett let the words hang there...then shook his head. This is a waste of time. "Bastile, have your men escort these two out a discreet exit, with their boss, if you please." The two men looked up at him with rekindled hope. "Dump the body in one of the usual spots, and then do as I told you, never telling anyone about this...because if you do, I'll find you..." The pair, terrified, visibly shivered at the words. Excellent. "And for the rest of your lives, and if you ever happen on a situation involving me again, I want you to remember my generosity and the debt you owe me..." Varric would be proud, here's me, making friends. The thought triggered a sardonic smile, making the two men exchange a puzzled look. "Now, time for you two to leave, and remember what I've said..."

The two men nodded in unison as they slowly slid to their feet, trembling as guards moved closer, then as they were instructed, to pull up the corpse of their former boss.

As they left, Bastile inched closer, face marked by a scowl. "Was that wise, Serah?"

"Time will tell, but I'm done having others suffer because of that woman, I'm not about to soil my honour and name by killing those two." If there had been no witnesses, I might have considered another option... "Let them run, they're of no consequence." Turning, Garrett sighed as he began to leave. "And send for Orana...she's good with cleaning up blood."

8

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8

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" Looking up at the stars, Garrett almost smiled, surprised by a feeling of wistfulness. There's Elgar'nan and his horns...funny how the Dalish see figures humans didn't, guess you only see what you want to see. There was no Merrill to discuss that thought with though, nor any of his usual group of misfits save Aveline and Maric.

It made the point between Garrett's shoulder-blades itch. If only I could bring one mage, at least, would make this easier...and the wait more enjoyable. But Garrett couldn't bring mages to this kind of fight, and it was important that he used his own entourage in this mission, to act as an example to the other nobles and the citizens back in Kirkwall.

Aveline was to his left, but so was Donnic, and both were looking grim and ready, not really ones to chat, even if nothing was happening. "I hope they come tonight, we've been stuck here for two days already."

"A week, Serah." Donnic corrected, his voice low to not carry over the dark night and the nearby water. "Those of us that have been here from the start, I mean, Serah."

"Of course, my apologies, didn't mean to make light of your own wait, or that of the guard." Garrett automatically replied, not about to start an argument with a man who he already had difficulties working with. Not compatible, I guess...but at least Aveline loves him. He turned to the woman, smiling slightly. "Think they'll come tonight?"

The captain's gaze was glued straight ahead, though with the darkness before her and the burning fires below ruining her night-vision, Garrett doubted she saw much beyond the camp ahead. "They have to soon enough, they can't have any food left." The woman gripped her sword tighter, eyes narrowing.

Garrett turned his head, looking over the by now familiar situation with little interest. They were at the Wounded Coast, the waves on both their left and right lapping at broken cliffs. Ahead, the little peninsula stretched out, the higher cliffs at the end forming a natural fortress, as the cliffs at the end formed a keep, there was a ridge running across the peninsula too, creating a sort of wall for the fortress. By now it had been under siege for a week by the guard and now also by Garrett and many of his warriors.

There was also two ridges further back though, the foremost which besiegers had used as cover while starving out the raiders ahead, the valley between the two turning into a makeshift camp.

It actually hadn't been easy convincing the Council to send out him and his warriors to aid the guard, the idea of a noble going out to fight practically caught criminals somewhat unnerving to them. If he started doing that with his entourage, would he later demand the same of them? It was one thing to send men to hunt down bandits, another to personally lead troops against desperate and cornered criminals. They're rightfully worried, nobility is not just about taking the profits others make, we're nobles, not parasites. Garrett's motivation to aid the guard wasn't simply as a matter of principle though.

The guard are stretched as it is, they need the assistance with combat-related tasks like this. And if I'm seen aiding them, being a force that polices and puts down the law in the city, I'll be seen as the de facto ruler of the city, more will turn to me for matters of the state. Maybe the Viscount knows that, he did look concerned about my offer to assist the guards...yet I'm not surprised he held his tongue, he needs me too much to resist. Now, if we can only put down these raiders, we can bring them back in chains and with the heads of the dead on pikes...people will love it, and see me with a by now successfully operating guard...their conclusion will be a foregone conclusion. The thought made Garrett smile.

Garrett Hawke, once not even owning his own farmland in Ferelden, now Viscount of a city...Varric will have a tale to tell.

"Think they'll actually take the bait?" Donnic asked, sounding doubtful.

Garrett frowned. "Who knows? We've done all we could to make it believable. Even if they don't, they have to come out soon, the cliffs here make swimming impossible, and we're at the only exit." He shrugged. "It's only a matter of how great our victory will be now."

They had moved the camp back three days ago, behind the second ridge...or rather, where everyone slept. The fires and tents were still down in the slope between the two ridges, a few scarecrows of straw and dressed in armour put up on the first ridge to resemble a lazily placed small number of sentries...just the thing a raider would think possible to overcome, and even more so if driven by desperation. "You sound very confident?" Donnic pointedly replied.

"Why shouldn't I be? Fifty guardsmen and fifty of my own troops, we'll crush them." Garrett smiled grimly. "They should have taken your offer when they had the chance, Aveline."

"That's bandits for you, a stupid lot." The Captain replied, glancing at Garrett. "By the way, why are you here? Not that I don't appreciate the help, but I can't help but think you're not doing this out of the kindness of your heart."

Blunt as always, eh? Garrett arched an eyebrow at Aveline, who unapologetically looked straight back at him. "Not to be insulting..." Donnic added, hesitating. "...but there's some saying you're doing this for political reasons?"

"Of course I am." Garrett replied, as unapologetic as Aveline, his gaze turning back to the darkness ahead as he felt the couple look at him with a mixture of displeasure and curiosity. "It can't have escaped you two that I'm making myself play a bigger and bigger role in the rule of Kirkwall. I do that because the Viscount and the other nobles don't have any real vision for the city and seem content to let it fall into disrepair and disrepute. I won't have that. I want a safe city for those I care for, a strong city, an orderly city...my city is currently none of that."

"My city?" Donnic echoed, a scowl on his face.

"Well yes, just like it's yours or anyone else's...but also more and more because it is my city...how much do you think the Viscount really rules? Half the administration is run by clerks that just keep doing the same repetitive task, without any direction or goal, the other half is run by me." Garrett shook his head. "Of course, we also have Meredith trying to meddle in things not her business as well...and people wonder why the city is in such chaos."

"You...intend to replace the Viscount?" Aveline murmured, the woman sounding baffled at the idea of such ambition.

"In time, yes." Garrett smiled, it felt good to admit it. "I'm already running much behind the scenes, but the title itself would be a good tool to fully rule the city and would make everything far less complicated and difficult. Right now I have to jump through hoops with many a decision, if I had supreme power though...you'd see some changes, I promise you that."

Donnic slowly turned to face Garrett...and the noble blinked as in the corner of his eye he saw the guardsman put a hand on the grip of his sword, his voice cold. "I'm sworn to defence of the Viscount."

Garrett blinked, the words slipping out before he could help himself. "Don't be an idiot." Aveline and Donnic both tensed, making him turn to look at them fully and offer a reassuring smile. "I'm not yet thirty, the Viscount is over sixty and an ailing man without heirs..." He shook his head to enforce his words. "...I have no reason to harm him, I can just wait for my turn." Donnic frowned, but released his sword...and then grimaced as Garrett continued. "And you're sworn to the office of the Viscount...so when I'm Viscount, you're sworn to me...I hope you'll remember that."

Donnic visibly bristled...and then Aveline put a hand on his breastplate, instantly making him step back. "I suppose, if that happens, that you're right, Garrett. But that's for the future, could we please focus on the present? One of your...friends...is coming."

Turning, Garrett spotted the little elf running towards him along the ridge, the young boy's head held low. The boys had passed a few days ago, curious about the siege...and Garrett had instantly seen the usefulness of a few elven eyes, knowing them to see better in the dark than any human. The nine year old approaching was all bones and rags, his mousy hair covered in dirt and one of his pointed ears cut off halfway to the tip. A dribble of snot was hanging from his large nose, but the boy ignored it as he ducked down to a now crouching Garrett, his wide eyes staring at the ground. "S-serah? M'lord...?"

"Yes, Levy?" Garrett asked, keeping his tone as soft as possible, well aware of how skittish the boy and his two friends were around Garrett and any of the guardsmen. Yet not around my own men, guess they know those kind of warriors are less likely to hurt them. Nobles can be cruel and guardsmen don't like pickpockets, and these boys look like the type. "You've seen something?"

"Th-there's movement around the finger..." The boy pointed at the keep of rocks at the end of the peninsula. "Jett wasn't sure at first, but now we saw them near that ridge...shadows creeping over it. They're getting c-closer."

"They come, good." Aveline growled, making the boy's eyes widen and him to take a step back as the Captain strode past him, sharp gestures making weary men and women kick themselves and others out of their sleeping bags and begin to strap on armour as quietly and quick as possible.

Garrett remained crouched though, offering a reassuring smile. "You and your friends have done well." The boy's eyes glinted with a mixture of worry and hope, shirking back, as if expecting to be struck at any moment. Hope overcame all other looks though once Garrett reached for his belt though. "As promised...a silver each." He held up the three coins to the wide eyes of the boy. "Make sure the others get theirs."

"Of course, we elves stick together." The boy snatched up the coins, as if fearing they'd disappear otherwise...then his eyes somehow turned larger as he realised what he said. "Um...I mean, yes, Serah, of course, Serah, didn't mean to...I mean..."

"It's fine, I get it, trust me." Garrett rose to his feet and took a step away from the boy before drawing his sword, head turning to face the coming conflict even as his free hand moved to put on his silvery helmet. "Now you better leave, a stray arrow can kill a boy as easily as a man."

Nodding, the little elf began to run, though Garrett barely noticed as he fastened his helmet and moved to grip his shield. Here we go, once more into battle...once I'm Viscount and have cleaned the city up, these occasions will become few and far between. To his left and right, men and women of the guard and his own household troops alike silently moved up to form a rough line along their ridge, looking down at their 'camp'.

"Keep quiet." Garrett hissed the words before any whispers could ensue. "We attack on my command." Aveline, appearing next to him, shot him an irritated look, but said nothing...she knew as well as him that she had no authority over his own warriors, while he at least had some say in what the guard did. Good, this way this will truly be my victory...I don't really care, but others will.

They didn't have to wait for long. Soon, even human eyes could pick up dark shapes creeping up the first ridge...each warrior waiting with baited breath as they saw their prey approaching. Did they see through our ruse? Will they try to put up some sort of defensive-

A crash answered and silenced Garrett's thoughts, everyone watching as the armoured straw men fell down towards the camp, arrows lodged in their 'bodies'. A moment later, a roar rose from the bandits as they rushed up to the top of the ridge. Some came to a stop there, half a dozen archers being illuminated by a single man in robes as he created a sphere of fire between his cupped hands. Fell Orden, I presume? The rest rushed on, weapons raised and cries escaping their lips, cries nearly lost in the boom of the fireball striking down on the camp ahead of their charge, setting several of the tents aflame.

Moments later, the bandits were among the tents, hacking and slashing at them...and slowing down, confused.

"CHARGE!" Barely had the words left Garrett's mouth, and the guardsmen and warriors were rushing down, weapons levelled at the wide-eyed bandits who after staring into the fire probably barely saw the onrushing onslaught above.

Up at the other side of the camp, Fell Orden's face lit up in rage even as yet another fireball began to grow in his hands...only to flicker out, a dozen arrows lodged in the mage's chest as the archers on Garrett's side let loose at the illuminated target. Garrett could only imagine the surprised look on the mage's face as he slumped down, two of the archers next to him also falling to the volley of arrows.

One bandit, braver than the others, rushed forward to meet Garrett's charge, a great two-handed axe swinging horizontally at the noble.

Garrett was faster than the warrior had anticipated though, and the only thing striking Garrett's side was the haft of the axe as the noble stepped within the bandit's swing. In retort, Garrett pinned the weapon against his chest with his shield-arm, pressed his blade against the bandit's exposed neck and twisted sideways.

A spray of blood, the axe landing on the ground behind Garrett...and the raider was down, clutching at his spurting artery as all around him, his friends began to meet similar fates.

A bandit tried to stumble away from one of Garrett's men approaching fast with a lowered halberd, his sword shook with terror...and then fell out of limp hands as he was skewered on the oncoming halberd.

Another bandit slashed at Aveline with an axe, only to have the blow deflected by her shield as the captain loudly pushed her blade through the man's midsection and fell atop him from the impetuousness of the charge. Another raider tried to hack at the Captain's head as she struggled to rise, but found his hand and weapon tumbling to the ground as Donnic with a growl cut through the bandit's wrist.

One bandit, tripping up one of Garrett's Fereldians, pounced upon the warrior with a raised dagger...and then found herself bowled over by a pair of guardsmen, the two beating her into submission with their shields and stomping boots.

Atop the ridge, another bandit fell, the three remaining crying out in terror and trying to flee...and then a blur spurted after them, the so far silent Maric moving to stop them. Beyond the ridge, cries of pain and terror rose as the Mabari caught up.

Turning his head, sword ready, Garrett looked for another target...and found none.

A dozen or so raiders lay dead, nearly as many were either on their knees or laying down, wounded or surrendered, the guards and warriors around them grinning with glee as they tied up their captives. Fast and painless on our side, excellent, now, to finish it...Varric would probably say I should...

Garrett raised his blade, his shout loud. "For Kirkwall! Victory!"

As one, the warriors and guardsmen cried out their victory, weapons raised in the air, eyes on him.

Under his helmet, Garrett found a smile creeping to his face. I could get used to this...

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Thanks goes to Abydos Jackson for her h-he-help.