Snippet #2037604

Kerin guided the horses of the cart with a sturdy hand, though the horses hardly needed guidance. They were more than happy to follow the trail led by the rest of her party. Riding shotgun beside her was her helmet and axe-- in quick reach if things turned sour. Her pony trotted along side the cart as well, tied up. She had offered to drive the cart since none of the others seemed to be interested. Well, she didn't so much as offer as she told. "I'll drive the cart," she had said, "I'm not going to spend the entire trip dodging the long legs of your horses," indicating their height differences. No, she was much more comfortable on the cart where she could directly look at her companions without looking up.

The trip thus had been easy going. Except for the apprehension she felt about crossing the water. "Another sodding boat?!" She had asked, irritated. She hated the water of the seas, and the rocking it did to these boats. She already saw herself hugging on to the mast with a bucket beside her. It was not a pleasant thought. As she pondered the grim idea of the sea, their caravan came to a stop as Ethne bounded from her horse. Kerin stood, grabbing her helmet and axe as she rose, and looked to find the source of this interruption.

Even from her distance, she saw the poor smear on the road. Poor fellow, probably never even stood a chance, though it was his fault for wandering these roads alone. She watched in grim curiosity as Ethne searched the poor sod's body. She seemed to have found a note and had just turned to them when the arrow bit into her shoulder. Kerin slammed her helmet on her head and yelled an admonishment at the elf as she hopped from the cart. "Dammit twig-bean! You should have had one of us up there with you!" She yelled, meaning either herself or Solvej. Already, the fires of the berserker were being stoked.

However, Kerin wasn't the first into the fray. That honor belonged to the man called Suicide. She had arrived just as the large man froze someone solid. Taking the gift as it came, she scythed past the frozen statue with her axe outstretched, shattering the man into pieces. Once the deed was done, she swung her axe around to the front, giving an intimidating show. "Step up and face death!" Kerin bellowed at the bandits, and followed it with a snarl. With that the berserker fires within her raged.

After giving Rhapscallion the scolding his tardiness warranted, smacking his shoulder with her mail-gloved hand and shaking her head, Solvej had sped Wagner up until she was near the front of the line, muttering things under her breath in Ander that sounded vaguely like admonishments. At least they were off at last, there was somehing to be said for that.

She didn't share the dwarf's dislike for boats, but the short woman's complaint did cause her to exhale a short bark of laughter. "I think you'd best get used to boats, my friend. I doubt the archdemon was so kind as to plant all his most important flunkies in Orlais. I wouldn't; chewing on bloody decadent Orleians would make them fat and lazy." Her lips pulled back from her teeth in an expression between a grimace and a fox's own grin. If there was a culture with which Anders did not mix well, it was certainly the Orlesian one, even counting Tevinter. She knew better than to class them all as fops, of course, but it tended to be the default opinion until they poved otherwise. She'd always wanted to fight a Chevalier, though.

After about half a day, Solvej was looking with bored eyes at the landscape, still alert as possible, when their little leader's shoulders tensed and she became very fixated on something ahead of them. The group crested a hill, and Ethne dismounted, running forward to a body that was clearly already dead. Solvej narrowed her eyes at the horizon, but still nothing was visible. She filed her observations away, noting that the elf-girl was most likely a healer of some kind, if her first instinct was the suicidally-stupid one to-

"Bandits!" Solvej shouted, but she was nowhere near close enough to stop the arrow she saw from puncturing Ethne's shoulder, knocking the frail thing to the sand. The big mage and the dwarf were the first into the fray, and she was not long after them, jumping from Wagner and drawing up alongside the stalwart berserker. In all likelihood, they'd make the best front line, and with this in mind, Solvej twirled her spear, brandishing it at the remaining warrior, a reaver by the looks of the nasty things he was doing with blood. Her first blow met his shield, the force of the impact resounding up Solvej's arms. His sword came around to her side, scoring a narrow wound in her abdomen, but she turned to divert the worst of the blow, using her momentum to whip her spear around and deliver a devastating cleave to his weapon-side arm, the pointed end of her polearm finding a chink in his armor and biting deep.

The man staggered backwards, dazed, but retained the presence of mind to cover himself with his shield. Solvej, however, just grinned, a feral light flashing in her eyes. He was presenting his back to Kerin quite nicely. "Hey short, light, and angry: I got you a present!" She called irreverently, laughter infusing her tone. Ah, but there was nothing like a good knock-down, drag out!

Kerin snarled in response, but understood her Warden companion. She wound up her axe and swung it in a downstroke. The upstroke brought the axe painfully into the crook of the bandit's groin, lifting him up off of the ground and sending him flying. The Stone would feast on blood today! Kerin then turned around to intercept another bandit, this one brandishing a pair of blades and thought he'd sneak up on her while she was occupied.. Kerin cursed her luck at having to fight such a cowardly slip-fish. Her axe granted her a reach the bandit's steak knives couldn't hope for, and she caught the torso of the man in the crook of her axe head.

She yanked hard, pulling the light man in and then swung, throwing the bandit into Solvej's path, "Your turn Warden! And I ain't light!" She called. She turned to face the rest of the bandits and let out another taunting bellow, "Who's next!" readying her axe. She also made conscious decision to step backwards towards Solvej. There were rogues about, and Kerin was not about to be done in by an errant stab to the back. "Dammit! Someone handle those bloody mages!" She called.

When the dwarf hooked her axe around the next man's torso and heaved, the unfortunate rogue tumbled to the ground, dancing to his feet immediately in that lightfooted way they tended to have. Glancing around sharply, he shook off his dizziness and tried to get his bearings.

The first thing his eyes locked onto was the savagely-grinning face of Solvej. The Black Templar seemed to have earned her name- for her brutality, while nowhere near as overt and rage-based as Kerin's, nor as bear-shaped as Suicide's, was a cold, hard thing in the pit of her stomach, and she saw precious little need to check it. If they wished to attack without question, without mercy, than she would indulge them in their base need to die. The dagger-wielding fellow, close enough that she could smell garlic and liquor on his foul breath, staggered backwards with a small yelp, disorientation yielding to the panicked realization that the business end of a spear was inches from his gut.

He didn't make it very far before Solvej took a long stride forwards, fulfilling the sharp promise with a deft shove and a painful twist. There was a hint of mercy left in her yet, it seemed, for she quickly removed the weapon, plunging it up from under his chin and sparing him the indubitable agony of a slow death by exsanguination.

Just in time, too, for the mage's spell came to fruition just then, and fire rained down on their location. It was no good to stand and wait to get hit, and perhaps it was time she put her abilities to good use. Inhaling deeply, Solvej charged. With both warriors down and the majority of the melee fighters engaged or hidden, it wasn't terribly difficult to reach the back ranks of the bandits, and she supposed that the technique her mentos had called turning the blade worked just as well on arrows, for most of the ones aimed for her glanced off her armor. One stuck in her belly, having found a weak link in her chain, but she ignored it and summoned forth the holy smite, planting herself to the ground. It was something that would affect a relatively-narrow area, which as why she had to be close enough to the mages to hit them. Neither fell, but both staggered backwards, casting temporarily interrupted.

"Oi Seeker! This is what you're good for, isn't it?" She was pretty sure Revaslin was around somewhere, at any rate.

The rain of fire did nothing to sooth Kerin's anger. She looked up with irritation and roared in the face of the fire, as if daring it to try and burn her. With the leave of her Warden companion, Kerin felt it was best to vacate the area as well, else the dare be fulfilled. Kerin streaked forward out of the area of effect of the fiery rain and charged into the next fray with wild abandon. There were many more corpses that did not know yet they were dead. She let howl one last taunt before diving in, axe blazing. "Know your fate at the hands of the Fatebreaker!"