The rain slipped through the chinks in my armour to soak and freeze my skin. My vision kept blurring with the heavy, icy drops as I had no helmet for shade. The sky had turned black, the night blotted out as if the stars could not bear witness to the horrors before me and thunder rumbled like an angry god shouting judgement at us. I spied a couple of soldiers shaking, a pair all but clinging to a Chantry sister as if she could call down the Maker's hand to whisk them from the battlefield.

Through the clusters of soldiers and monsters fighting, a foe emerged charging at me. It came with a mad smile and an axe clutched high in both hands.

I swung my shortsword quickly; I would have been quicker if not for the clunky gloves I wore, and dealt out death to the short, ugly beast as it tried to swing the axe at me. I opened its throat and darted back to avoid its wretched blood; I had had more than enough of that for a lifetime!

It was getting harder to see, the rain was heavier, its pelting became a roar over the snarls of the Darkspawn, and the ground started to turn slippery beneath my boots. I turned in the darkness and the blur of water, anxious and desperate; I could not fight in this!

I had tried to stay on the outskirts of the battle but that was not possible. A hoard had come to us and talk of the Blight travelled back swiftly from the frontlines even amongst the bloodshed and the glow of a hundred arrows laying waste to our army.

I did not know where anyone was or should be. I had spied no familiar faces yet though every spark of magic had me searching anxiously for Wynne or Niall.

Teyrn Loghain had suggested half-heartedly that I wait at the back with the reserves and though I had tried to do so, a glance of an advancing soldier in Arl Howe's armour had sent me scurrying to the chaos of the battlefield.

I let out a cry as something collided hard with my back sending a ringing pain through my spine and forcing me face first into the muck. I tried to roll but my body was immobile with pain and my armour made it awkward for me to move. I twisted desperately as the hum turned into a scream in my ears, overriding the roar of the rain briefly. I rolled in time to see a tall, almost skull-faced creature sneering down at me, sword downward and ready to plunge through the gap in my armour, into my gut.

The creature gave a rasping gasp, and I watched in horrified surprise as a large blade emerged from its throat. The blade jerked to the right and the creature's head toppled off and rolled onto the battlefield.

As its body quivered and started to topple, I scrambled back on my hands to evade being crushed by it.

A metal gloved hand reached down to me, and I looked up to my rescuer.

Although he bore the heavy armour of the soldiers on the field, under the shade of his helmet I glimpsed eyes as fearful and young as my own. He was a youth forced to stop pretending at solider and portray it for real in honour of his king.

I accepted the hand and marvelled momentarily at the strength behind it as it pulled me to my feet with ease.

"You don't look equipped for this," he said to me with worry.

"I'm not," I confessed, "but here I am found anyway."

He released my hand and raised up his bloodstained sword in both hands as if he remembered we stood in the middle of a war.

"There should be more men out here," he said it as a fact rather than a plea, his voice barely carrying over the rainfall.

I looked to the chaos and fresh horror filled me. From the crowds a giant emerged, a beast that stood at least six feet over the tallest man, all muscle with a horned head, it trampled over soldiers without a care. It moved quick for its size, heading straight towards us.

"Look out!"

I moved in a moment of madness, pushing my rescuer to the left as the beast reached us. I felt the ground beneath me quake as a rush of air brushed against my back letting me know how close I had been to death.

"Run!"

I grabbed at the guard's armoured arm and pulled at him anxiously as I followed my own advice.

We hurried for higher ground, moving past the dying abandoned to the damp ground and through the groupings of duals that had broken off in the main battle. I swung my sword out three times, once to deflect another sword, then twice to aid a mage who had become outnumbered. With a roar of fire, he took back the advantage.

Hearing a roar behind us, I kept running. I had no goal in mind except to get away from this violence.

I stumbled over almost lost tiles, past broken statues, dying fires and half-collapsed staircases and walls.

We headed up the ruins and there found soldiers lying like dolls, twisted and disfigured, or shoved onto the temporary made-up fences to twitch and moan until they had finally lost enough blood to die. I shut my eyes momentarily to the sight as a surge of dizziness overtook me.

"Look!" My new companion halted and when I glanced at him, he pointed up. "The beacon's been lit!"

I stared up to an ancient tower and saw a flame dancing in the rain, for what purpose I was unsure. Perhaps it should have meant hope but in the dark drizzle the light looked faint, and it flickered as if it might die out as quickly as it had appeared.

I heard horns sounding and turned, swiping rainwater from my eyes to try and see better.

A pale faced, panicked mage almost sagging under the weight of his soaked robes came running towards us hysterically.

"The king's dead! He's dead! And the Teyrn has quit the battlefield! We all need to go!"

"What?" My companion reached out to grab at the mage and earned a spray of sparks for his troubles. He jerked back with a cry of alarm. "Damn it, what do you mean?"

The mage kept running, though he looked back to us briefly. "You both need to run! It's everyone for themselves now!"

"But…but that's cowardice."

I looked to the solider as I heard the waver of uncertainty in his voice. Even with the shade of his helmet I could still see the fear in his face.

"It's not," I said firmly, "it's survival. Come on, if what he says is true then the battle is already lost. We need to go before the darkspawn overwhelm us."

"Go?" He stared back at me dubiously. "But…what about the others?" He gestured half-heartedly to the battles still going on with one hand.

I shook my head. "We cannot win this nor can we save everyone."

"Who are you to give orders? You don't look like a solider, you haven't even got a helmet."

I drew myself upright, trying to summon up some noble posture but it was impossible when my hair hung against me like a second skin, and I trembled as much from cold as fright. "I'm…Avery," I told the lie again. "Who are you?"

"Carver, Carver Hawke."
"Well Carver, you're right, I don't fit here, I'm no solider but you're no seasoned fighter either. You're young, you have a life to live yet, we both do. Please, don't squander it now."

A war cry pulls our attention back to the very real battles going on around us. I see a couple of darkspawn charging towards us with their weapons raised.

Carver raises his sword in both hands and charges at them. I follow with my sword but keep in his shadow as he is better armoured than I am.

I swing my sword clumsily, using its blade to beat back the sword coming at me. Each collision sends vibrations of pain up my arm, and I stumble back with the force of my foe's attacks. It is all I can do to defend myself as the Darkspawn moves quickly and with a certain talent for attacking. They may look like monsters, but these creatures are organised and have a disturbing intelligence.

The blade catches at an exposed gap in my arm and I scream as I feel it slicing deeply through my flesh. I jerk away and wince as I see my blood spray through the air. The pain burns up my limb like fire and my eyes start to redden at the edges. Shock threatens to pull me into unconsciousness. I clench my free hand to try and ground myself, knowing if I faint then I am done.

I see the sword coming for me again and feign to the left before darting to the right.

The darkspawn falls for the ruse and stumbles forward, giving me the chance to raise my sword and swing it at its neck. The cut is awkward but deep enough, the injury worse than the one it dealt me. It takes me three tugs to free my blade as the darkspawn falls forward with a gurgled gasp of pain.

I smell burning in the air even as the rain continues to fall. I risk a glance towards the main battlefield and see amber flames and thick black smoke billowing high. I think the smell might be the flesh of the fallen succumbing to the flames of arrows and I feel a roll of nausea run through me.

There is a roar in my ears, an almost deafening cry of soldiers and darkspawn fighting. The movement of their battle blurs before me as my eyes water from the smoke. I can see people being trampled by giant beasts and hacked apart by the smaller ones. For every soldier I spy there are at least four darkspawn.

I search for Carver and see his foe is fallen. He stands frozen, fixed upon the black smoke. If we are noticed again, we might not make it out of here.

I edge up beside him and he turns to me in horror. "This…is it wrong to leave? Is it desertion?"

I think briefly of Fergus, Niall, and Wynne, they're all potentially still out there and if I run I am abandoning them. Yet if I stay, what can I do? What if they have already left or died? What if I stay and am I cut down before I should ever glimpse them? It is too dark even with the fire and there are too many fighting out there, I can't pick out one face amongst the many. Better to go and hope they have made smart choices too.

"Better to leave the fighting to those that are already trained for it," I said.