Snippet #2304607

Black blood spilled from a ghoulish foe and stained the extravagant robe the warrior wore. As the beast fell into the dirt beneath him, the white haired man grimaced. With a face full of malice, he kicked the thing’s skull in. Spit flew, and curses did too.

“God damn abominations. I loathe Darkspawn.”

Alan Darkmare loathed a great deal of things, but the Darkspawn were quickly nearing the top tier of the list. This was Ostagar, Darkspawn capital of Thedas. The Templar had found himself atop a hill, where he could overlook a good portion of the battlefield. As he gazed at the sight; the shards of steel flashing against dancing embers, he couldn’t help but scoff at his thoughts. Blights. Yet another thing we can thank the Robes for.

The area Alan was in, for the moment, was calm. If you could count dozens dead, and even more injured as calm. He did anyway, and as he passed by a group of medical Mages, he stopped a man clad in the armor of his order. The young man had his back turned so the moment his commanding officer touched him, he jumped and grabbed for his blade.

The youth turned on his heel, weapon in hand ready for action, but two clawed fingers from the Knight-Captain’s gauntlet stopped that in it’s tracks.

“Calm yourself soldier. Do I look like one of them?” He pointed to a fell creature a few feet away. Still shaking, the young soldier sheathed his blade and nodded at Alan. “Atta-boy. Now, I want a report. You came from further down correct? Myles’ unit, by the looks of it.” Knight-Captain Myles’ men all had a sort of...green look about them, none of the kids seemed fit for battle. The sick looking boy nodded and saluted.

“Y-yes sir. I came from the eastern front...the Darkspawn there are tearing us apart. The King’s troops are still waiting for the signal from the watchtower,the Captain suspects the worst and has sent me here to spread word to the other units.”

Alan was giving the boy an assessing look. What he said was expected. Expected, but troubling. The news of the Darkspawn’s triumph was something that anyone who took a passing glance at the field could easily determine. There were too many wounded and not enough mages. He didn’t know why he was even here any more--Ostagar was a lost cause.

“What of the other sqauds? You know, Captain Cullen, Captain Drake, Loghain and the King’s men?” The boy’s face was overcast with despair. The Captain just sighed.

“That bad eh?”

“Captain Drake’s unit’s been completely wiped out, the Captain’s okay, but he’s hurt right bad. Cullen’s unit, or what’s left of it is patching him up now with some of the Mages. The King’s unit though...” He bit his lip. “I saw the whole lot of em’ cut down m’self.”

Alan was intrigued, “The King?” The youth shook his head. The look on his face had said it all. King Cailin was dead, the battle had been an utter failure. From somewhere far off horns had sounded--someone’s troops had left the battlefield. What the hell was going on out there? “Tell me boy, what’s come of the Teyrn Loghain’s troops?” The boy’s mouth had opened wide, and then shut quick.

“No one’s seen them sir, you don’t think the Darkspawn took em’ out already?” Alan's brow furrowed and his forehead wrinkled. That couldn't be right.

“The Teyrn drove out Orlais soldiers. He wouldn’t let a few cave dwellers kill him. But it is strange...” The battle was horrendous. He watched from afar as a group of men was slaughtered by a single Darkspawn warrior. A sight that was common affair here it seemed.

“Boy, I want you to send the word to the rest of our men, we’re getting the hell out of here.” The youth was shocked at the notion, a fire had sparked in his eyes the likes unwhich Alan had only seen a few times before.

“But Captain! The Darkspawn--”

“The Darkspawn have won. They killed the King, and if we stick around we’ll end up just like him. I don’t know about you, but I have much more life to live.”

“Captain...”

“Now boy.” Ice blue eyes had dimmed the fire in the boy’s soul.

“Y-yes sir. I’ll spread word immediately.”

“Atta boy.”

The young recruit seized a horse, and darted down into the thick of the war. With another deep sigh, Alan reached for the golden hilt of his blade that hung from behind his waist. The captain sniffed the air. And even amid the mounds of ruined corpses, and the burnt flesh of the Darkspawn, something reeked even more. Something was amiss here.

The front was pushing forward to where he was. He’d have to fight again soon.