Be Useful, The Scouting Mission
Halmares, Nira's father, had made his thoughts on Fergus clear from the moment the injured outsider had been dragged into Talmorath. Fergus was a liability, an unnecessary risk to the village's fragile balance. But after weeks of recovery, as Fergus grew strong enough to move about on his own, the tone of their exchanges had shifted.
"If you're going to eat our food and rest in our huts," Halmares had grumbled one morning, arms crossed over his broad chest, "then you'd better make yourself useful. We don't carry dead weight in Talmorath."
Fergus had nodded, his jaw set with determination. "I can work," he had said firmly, meeting the tribal leader's glare. "I've handled worse than this, and I'm not here to waste anyone's time."
Halmares had studied him, his sharp gaze narrowing as if trying to gauge the truth of Fergus's words. Finally, he'd snorted, a faint note of surprise flickering across his face. "Then prove it. Nira's leading a scouting patrol tomorrow. Go with her."
Nira had looked between them, her expression skeptical. "He's not ready for this," she had said, her voice tight. "He's barely on his feet."
"I'm ready," Fergus had insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Halmares had raised a hand to silence her. "If he wants to prove himself, let him. You'll keep an eye on him, Nira. If he slows you down, leave him behind."
Fergus had met the man's gaze, his determination unwavering. "I won't."
Now, as Fergus followed Nira through the dense undergrowth of the Korcari Wilds, he felt the weight of his promise. His borrowed blade hung at his side, and though the terrain was rough, he pushed himself to keep pace with her sure-footed movements.
Halmares had been surprised at Fergus's insistence, Nira had told him earlier that morning. Most outsiders, even those with noble blood, would have balked at the idea of trudging through the Wilds with only a Chasind scout for company. But Fergus had insisted, and Halmares—reluctantly—had given his approval.
"Why did you agree to this?" Nira asked as they wove through a thicket of thorny bushes. Her tone wasn't unkind, but there was an edge of curiosity to her words. "You could have stayed in the village, taken the easy route."
Fergus glanced at her, his face grim but resolute. "Because I'm not useless. My family—my people—taught me that if you can stand, you can fight. And if you can fight, you do your part."
Nira's lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "Your family must have been proud."
"They were," Fergus said quietly, his voice tinged with sadness. "At least, I hope they were."
Nira didn't press further, instead focusing on the trail ahead. "Well, don't make me regret letting you come along. The Wilds don't forgive mistakes."
As they moved deeper into the forest, Nira began to speak more freely, her voice carrying over the soft crunch of leaves beneath their boots. She told Fergus about the Darkspawn—how the first attacks had been reported in the Wilds themselves.
"They didn't come from the north this time," she explained, her tone serious. "They rose from the earth, like rot spreading through the roots of a tree. The first villages they hit didn't stand a chance. Entire tribes wiped out before anyone knew what was happening."
"Why the Wilds?" Fergus asked, frowning. "Why not the north, near the Tevinter border?"
Nira shook her head. "Who knows? The Blight doesn't follow reason. It follows hunger. And the Wilds are full of life, even in the darkest places. Maybe that's why they came here first."
She went on to describe the destruction—how the Darkspawn had burned villages to the ground, leaving only ash and corpses in their wake. The Chasind, already wary of outsiders, had become even more isolated in the face of the growing threat.
"The tribes are fighting amongst themselves," Nira said bitterly. "The elders can't agree on anything. My father wants an alliance, but the others won't listen. They think they can survive alone."
"And the Avvar?" Fergus asked.
"They've disappeared," Nira said with a scoff. "No word, no help. My father thinks they've abandoned their homes and fled into the Frostbacks. If that's true, they're cowards. But at least they'll live, I suppose."
It was in the clearing, as the two of them paused to rest, that they first heard the sound. The faint growl carried on the wind, accompanied by the snapping of branches. Fergus froze, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his blade.
Nira crouched low, motioning for Fergus to do the same. "Darkspawn," she hissed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Fergus's heart pounded as he gripped his weapon, his mind racing. This was it—the moment to prove he could stand alongside the Chasind. That he wasn't just a burden.
Nira glanced at him, her expression serious but steady. "Stay close. Don't get yourself killed."
Fergus nodded, his jaw tightening as he readied himself for the fight to come.
The Darkspawn emerged from the trees like shadows given form—twisted shapes of hurlocks and genlocks, their blackened blades glinting in the moonlight. At their head was a monstrous figure that towered above the rest: an ogre, its hulking frame wreathed in muscle and fury. Its glowing red eyes burned with malevolence as it bellowed, the sound reverberating through the dense foliage.
"An ogre," Fergus muttered, gripping his blade tightly. His heart thundered in his chest, but he forced himself to steady his breathing.
Nira, crouched a short distance behind him, nocked an arrow and drew her bowstring. Her eyes were sharp, her movements deliberate. "We can't take it head-on," she said, her voice low but firm. "If we're going to survive this, we'll have to use the Wilds."
"Lead the way," Fergus replied, his grip on his weapon firm as he stepped forward. "I'll keep them busy."
The battle erupted with brutal ferocity. Fergus surged into the Darkspawn ranks, meeting their onslaught with a roar as he swung his blade. The weight of the Chasind weapon felt foreign in his hands, but his training and determination carried him. Each swing cleaved through corrupted flesh, sending genlocks sprawling into the dirt.
From behind him, Nira's arrows whistled through the air, striking true. One after another, her arrows found their marks—eyes, throats, joints—each shot precise and lethal. She moved with the grace of a predator, keeping to the edges of the fray while Fergus held the line.
The ogre charged, its massive feet shaking the ground as it barreled forward. Fergus barely had time to throw himself aside as the creature's fist smashed into the earth where he'd stood, splintering a tree trunk like kindling.
"Nira!" Fergus shouted, his voice hoarse from exertion.
"I see it!" she called back, releasing an arrow that embedded itself in the ogre's thick shoulder. The beast roared in fury, swinging wildly toward her.
"Over here, you brute!" Fergus yelled, slashing at the ogre's leg to draw its attention. The blade bit into its flesh, and the creature snarled, turning its focus back to him.
Nira darted around the clearing, her arrows raining down on the ogre and the remaining Darkspawn. She led the monstrous creature toward a dense thicket, where the uneven terrain slowed its movements. Fergus realized her plan: she was forcing the ogre to fight in a space where its size was a disadvantage.
"Keep it there!" Nira shouted, drawing another arrow.
The plan worked—for a time. Together, they managed to whittle down the remaining Darkspawn. Fergus struck the last hurlock down with a desperate swing, panting as he turned to face the ogre once more.
But the beast was far from finished.
The ogre roared, its fury unrelenting. It seized a massive tree trunk, wrenching it from the earth as if it weighed nothing. Swinging the makeshift weapon, it crashed it into the thicket, sending debris flying.
Fergus barely had time to react as the ogre turned on Nira, swiping with its free hand. The blow connected, sending her hurtling through the air. She slammed into a tree with a sickening crack, collapsing to the ground.
"Nira!" Fergus yelled, his heart sinking.
Nira groaned, struggling to rise. Pain flared through her body, but she forced herself to stay conscious. Her vision swam as she looked up to see the ogre lumbering toward her, its tree trunk raised high, ready to strike.
She tried to reach for her bow, but her body refused to obey.
Before the ogre could bring the weapon down, Fergus was there. He threw himself between the beast and Nira, his blade raised high to meet the blow. The impact was immense, and Fergus felt the shock reverberate through his arms as the tree trunk slammed against his weapon. His knees buckled, but he held firm.
"Run!" Fergus shouted, his voice strained as he held the ogre at bay. "Get out of here!"
"I'm not leaving you!" Nira shouted back, forcing herself to her feet despite the pain.
The ogre roared, raising its weapon again. Nira staggered forward, gripping a dagger with trembling hands.
Suddenly, the air grew cold.
A sharp, unnatural chill swept through the clearing, and the ogre froze mid-swing. Its red eyes widened in shock as its body stiffened, frost crawling over its massive frame. In an instant, the beast was encased in ice, its furious roar silenced.
Behind the ogre, a flock of black birds rose into the air, their cries piercing the eerie stillness. As they scattered, a figure emerged from the shadows.
She was an older woman, her presence commanding despite her slight frame. Her hair was wild and silver, falling in untamed waves around her weathered face. Her piercing golden eyes shone with otherworldly intensity, and her tattered robes, made of dark fabrics and animal pelts, gave her an almost feral appearance.
The staff in her hand glimmered faintly with icy magic, and a wry smile played on her lips as she regarded the frozen ogre.
"Well, well," she said, her voice rich and melodic. "What an amusing little dance you've had here."
Fergus stared at her, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Who—who are you?"
The woman stepped closer, her gaze flicking between Fergus and Nira. "I am Flemeth," she said, her tone calm yet laced with undeniable power. "The keeper of these Wilds. And you…" She tilted her head, her smile growing. "You have caught my attention."