AN: I am a terrible person. I know. I've just been extremely busy with real-life stuff and haven't really had time to myself to do any writing. Apologies, and thanks for reading. I'll try to get the next one up as soon as I can!
As soon as we burst through the trees, I realised that I knew where I was. I had seen this place – we couldn't have been more than a hundred yards from the entrance to the camp at Ostagar.
The men in the clearing were standing in a defensive circle, their backs to each other, crouching in ready combat positions, with the corpses of two Darkspawn lying at their feet. The man facing Morrigan and I straightened in surprise when he saw us and opened his mouth to say something, probably to call a warning, but before he could there was a blood-curdling screech and we turned towards the noise in unison. A Hurlock charged towards us from the shadow of the trees, closely followed by another, larger one, accompanied by a group of seven Genlock.
My heart almost stopped when the first Darkspawn came into view. There are no graphics known to man that could accurately depict the true hideousness of it: even the way it moved reeked of cruelty. It's dark eyes glinted like pools of black tar, it's face twisted into a horrifying smile as it advanced upon the three men in the clearing.
For a moment, I was frozen in fear, but as they approached I managed to snap myself out of it and I whipped around, looking to Morrigan for guidance, only to see that she had vanished back into the trees. I cursed under my breath and turned back just in time to see a blade slashing towards my face. I yelped and took a half-step backwards, the sword in my hand rising almost of it's own volition to block and the Hurlock's blade bounced violently off of mine, sending it stumbling backwards. Through my fear and shock, instinct seemed to take over and I took the opportunity to advance on the beast while it was still off-balance and followed immediately with a swift jab to it's stomach. It screeched as I felt my sword pierce through it's armour and sink deep into it's flesh. I gagged at the stench of it's foul breath in my face and I retracted my blade quickly, recoiling from the creature in horror as it crumpled to the ground and lay there, still.
I bent double, panting in sheer terror, but the sound of on-going fighting prevented me from reflecting too much on what had just happened. I looked up to see that the three men battling the remaining Darkspawn weren't doing too well. One of them was locked in one-on-one combat with the largest of the Hurlocks, while the other two slashed and parried and blocked arrows with their shields, but the only Darkspawn that had fallen so far was the one I had killed.
I turned to see two of the Genlocks hanging back from the main battle, taking aim with their bows. They didn't seem to notice me, or they decided that of the four of us that remained, I was the least threat. I couldn't help but agree with them, but the men were struggling to fight with the archers pinning them down.
My brain was working at a hundred miles a minute, and seemed to be running on two different levels. The dominant voice in my head, the one that I recognised, was reeling in shock and terror, and was mostly just screaming expletives at me. But the other half of my brain was working like it never had before, calculating distances and gauging battle opportunities. My eyes were taking in everything and I realised that I could see exactly what needed to be done. Those archers would have to go if the men stood any chance of a fair fight.
Forcing myself not to gag, I crouched by the body of the Hurlock I had slain and retrieved the rusted sword from it's hand. Even in death it's grip was like iron, but I managed to wrench the sword free, inadvertently nicking my fingertip on the dark blade in the process. I swore under my breath and rose to face the archers. I couldn't really explain why, but holding two blades instead of one made me feel a little more confident. It just felt right.
As I made my advance towards the Genlocks, I realised that all of the in-game references to Darkspawn not being very bright wasn't just smack-talk: they really weren't very good strategists. Rather than taking it in turns to fire and reload, they were firing as one, which meant that they were both incapacitated for a good few seconds as they nocked another arrow in their bows. That gave me the opportunity I needed, and I skirted around the battle towards them, keeping close to the tree-line to remain unnoticed. It was surprisingly easy to flank them, and I thanked my lucky stars that they clearly had the brains of Gavin Grieve.
I crept up behind them and waited until they'd loosed their arrows before making my presence known.
"Hey!" I yelled, and they turned around, reaching for their quivers, but as they turned I slashed downwards with both swords, ripping through their light armour and slicing them from chest to navel. They fell as one, and I felt a surge of confidence as I realised that Flemeth had been right. Whoever or whatever had sent me here hadn't sent me alone: they had, somehow, given me battle-skills and reflexes that I was certain I never had before: not that I had been in many sword fights in my life, but that's beside the point. And it didn't feel like the same force that had crashed Emily's car into that tree, either. It was me: I was doing these things, exactly as I imagined I could, but it was as if I had been through years of rigorous training and my body just knew what to do. Somehow, whatever force had brought me to Ferelden had turned me into a warrior: Matrix-style.
Now my question was: if you die in Ferelden, do you die in real life? Only one way to find out, I thought, grimly. I spun the swords through the air a couple of times to test my theory and, I'm not going to lie, because it looked pretty bad-ass, and advanced on the remaining Darkspawn. There were only three Genlocks left now, but the Hurlock was still standing. One of the Genlocks barrelled towards me as I approached and thrust it's sword towards my chest. I parried with one hand and jabbed with the other, and it's screech became a wet gurgle as I twisted the blade from it's body and let it fall, limp and lifeless, to the forest floor.
Now the odds had swung in our favour, with only three Darkspawn to four of us. The Genlocks were retreating slightly as two of the men attacked with renewed force as they realised that they now had the upper-hand. The Hurlock was the biggest threat, the man facing him was wearying and his movements had grown sloppy as the beast beat relentlessly against his shield, sending him to his knees.
As the Hurlock lifted his massive arm to deliver what would surely be the killing blow, I darted in front of his blade, crossing my swords above my head to block the strike. It blinked down at me in confusion and bellowed with rage, but I wasn't scared anymore. In truth, I was actually starting to enjoy the thrill of fighting. I was inexplicably good at it: the feeling reminded me, oddly, of the first time I picked up a guitar and found that I had natural talent for it. This was a different instrument, and a different kind of music, but the result was the same: I felt like a rock star.
I grunted and pushed upwards with both arms, sending it staggering backwards, and I lunged forwards before it could recover it's footing and spun my swords, plunging them both deep into it's wide chest, burying them to the hilt in it's grey flesh. It screeched and wheezed, pitifully, and I felt a wave of guilt which I quickly brushed aside as I kicked it's stomach, pushing it clean of my blades to fall in a crumpled heap on the bloody ground. I took a step backwards and looked for more Darkspawn, but the Genlocks had fallen already and the three men stood, panting, watching me with curious expressions. I thrust the Darkspawn blade into the ground and bent to wipe my own blade clean on the grass before sheathing it.
"Well, that was fun!" I grinned, striding towards them. I barely noticed their exchange of confused looks; I was on such a high. I couldn't quite believe what I had just done. I had actually fought and killed Darkspawn.
"Uh…you have my thanks, miss." The man I had saved from the Hurlock was the first to find his voice, and he removed his helmet and offered his hand to me. I reached out to shake it but he took me by surprise when he bowed his head and planted a kiss on my hand. How continental.
"It was nothing." I grinned, trying and failing to sound nonchalant about the whole thing.
"My name is Judd, and this is Kale and Carson." He said, gesturing to the other men who nodded in way of greeting. Judd was obviously the ranking officer. Now that the Darkspawn were dealt with and I had a chance to look at them all properly, I could see that Kale and Carson were young, probably only a few years older than me, and Judd, with his salt-and-pepper beard, was several years their senior. "We are soldiers in the King's army."
"I'm Lauren. It's nice to meet you." I replied, wondering if I should curtsey or something, but decided against it.
"What are you doing out here, in the Wilds? You don't look Chasind. Then again…you don't really look like anyone else I've ever seen." Judd scratched his beard, uncertainly.
"I'm on my way to Ostagar." I replied. I didn't see any point in lying to them. Judd and Carson exchanged significant looks, but Kale frowned at me.
"What for?" He asked, eyeing me curiously.
"Sight-seeing." I replied, straight-faced. "I hear those ruins are really something."
"Sight-seeing?" He asked, incredulously. Carson stuck an elbow in his ribs.
"She was being sarcastic, Kale." He muttered, rolling his eyes in exasperation before focusing on me. "You've come to fight?"
"Ah…no, not so much. I've come to speak to someone."
It might have been my imagination, but I thought Judd looked a little disappointed.
"Right. Well, we shall escort you back to the fortress." He said, nodding to the other men, and we started walking the all-too-familiar track back to Ostagar. "Your clothes are unusual. Where did you say you were from?" He asked as we walked.
"I didn't." I replied, keeping my tone light. "I'm not from around here."
"Yes...your accent: you're from Starkhaven?"
Starkhaven. Brilliant! Why hadn't I thought of that? Oh right, because my brain had been on lock-down for the last few hours.
"Uh huh. Starkhaven." I agreed, smiling. He nodded, slowly, but said nothing. I knew from experience that I wasn't a very convincing liar. I guessed the trick was to keep the lies short and simple: I supposed that it was a lot more believable than the truth, at any rate. We walked in silence the rest of the way, and I was grateful that they didn't ask me anymore questions, although from the frequent glances they gave me, I guessed that there was plenty that they wanted to ask but obviously didn't want to offend me. Thank God that chivalry wasn't dead in this world.
We reached the tall, rough-wooden gates and they swung open as the guard on duty greeted the men. We passed through and I flashed a smile at the gate-keeper as he looked me up and down, a dumbstruck expression on his face. I suspected that I was going to be seeing a lot of confused faces. I really needed to get changed out of that stupid dress. The last thing I wanted was to draw unnecessary attention to myself, and until I swapped the cocktail dress and stilettos for something a little more inconspicuous, unnecessary attention was all I was going to get.
I was just about to ask Judd for directions to the armoury when I caught sight of someone I recognised. Striding with purpose through the masses of soldiers and mages who were mulling around the campsite, was Duncan.
And he was heading right for me.
AN: It's a terrible ending, I know. But I have to end it somewhere because I can't keep reading this chapter over and over again, the words have stopped making sense to me! Please review, and I'll try my best to get the next chapter up within the week!