Snippet #2157264

Raynan sat up against his tree in complete silence as the broken warriors of Ostagar continued to move through. His eyes trailed over every suit of armor that passed by. Templar. Soldier. Solider. Mage and Templar. He let out a soft sigh and settled in, pulling his cloak tight around himself. He would be there for days; waiting to be sure that no Grey Warden ever made it to Lothering. From time to time, when there were few people on the road, he would comb the forest around him, making sure that none had escaped into the trees and were sneaking their way past him. The assassin was nothing if not thorough.

The man had leaned his head back against the hard wood of the tree and closed his eyes, about to drift off in a light sleep when he heard a scuffle begin a bit further down on the road. He watched as a small group of darkspawn came running out of the forest toward a few of the survivors. Raynan watched, somewhat amazed as a woman, of all things, shooed the wounded soldiers off and turned to take on the beasts herself. The thought of helping her didn't cross his mind even once. What good would it be for him to reveal himself? Then his mission would be thrown off, and questions would be asked that he didn't want to answer. So, he sat observing. She clearly was no Grey Warden. In fact, she seemed to have very little knowledge of the creatures- made obvious by the way she fought them. Therefore, the assassin was surprised when the woman proved victorious and the darkspawn lay dead at her feet.

He watched as she seemed to stumble a little bit up the road in his direction. Clearly she was wounded. His cold blue eyes flitted over her form until he found the source, just as she pulled the armor pieces from her arm, letting them drop to the ground as she then ripped her sleeve to reveal a ugly chunk of debris caught in her skin. He shook his head as she pulled the shard out, his eyes following the metal as she tossed it away in his direction. He remained still, though, bringing his gaze back to her while she bandaged the wound. Should have left it in, he thought. Stupid girl. At least until someone could stitch the wound. "Come on, Gwen, we have to get out of here..." he heard her say, and then she began to walk again, even closer this time. And suddenly, she was tumbling into the bushes, nearly landing right on top of him.

"Bloody Ferelden women," Raynan muttered, glancing up and down the road to see if anyone else was around. When he didn't spot anyone, he unfolded his long legs and grabbed got up. He knew he had to move her before someone came up and invaded his perfect little hiding space, trying to rescue her. He leaned down and picked her up and moved her out of the bush, laying her down further in the trees on the soft, mossy ground. He knelt next to her, icy eyes scanning over her now that she was up close. She was beautiful, behind the blood splattered all over her face and matted in her hair, and the shape of her armor indicated that she had a rather voluptuous form that the assassin could certainly appreciate. Her armor was scratched and dented, and covered in a mixture of blood, but it was not the armor of the King's army, nor that of a Templar or Grey Warden. "What the blast would a woman like you be doing, running around in the south during a massacre?" he asked the unconscious woman in a low, hissing voice. "And what am I supposed to do with you now? I have more important things to do than to care for a stupid, injured girl."

His eyes slid down to the wound on her arm, where the cloth she had tied was already filling up with blood. "Going to bleed to death," he mumbled, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. He reached up and grabbed one of the daggers from his back and used it to cut off more of her sleeve. He placed the dagger back in its sheath on his back. Raynan quickly untied the cloth that the girl had wrapped around her arm. He folded up the extra cloth that he had cut form her sleeve and placed it over the wound, then tied the bloody band tightly around her arm once more. Eyeing his work, he let out a soft snort. Why do I even bother? he asked himself. Ah well, she may be of use to me later… With a warm hand on her wrist, he checked her pulse. Steady enough. She'd wake eventually. The assassin pushed himself back up and moved back toward the road, though he adjusted his hiding spot ever so slightly so that he could keep an eye on the girl as well as the road. It wouldn't do for her to wake and catch him off-guard.