Raynan Embrill's Story

Raynan had stuck with the other Crows only out of necessity during his journey south toward Ostagar. He loathed the constant chatter that the other men kept up. He hated constantly being surrounded by other people. There was no peace. Unless he was on watch. He always chose to take watch during the longest part of the night, for it was always the most peaceful. That was the only time he ever had to think. He would slip away from the campfire into the darkness, where he'd make his rounds. It wasn't that a group of travelers such as these Antivan Crows would be in any particular danger, but there were always bandits and thieves to look out for. Ferelden was a horrible, dirty country that only the lowest of the low lived in. They simply couldn't be trusted to not lift a purse or steal goods if they were to come across this group of well-armed assassins. Of course, it would probably be the last thing they'd ever do in their lives, but still.

But now, they had finally made it to their destination. Some odd side road a ways south of Lothering. Lothering, they figured, was likely to be the first town any surviving Grey Wardens would shamble up to, and this is where they would wait. Raynan, however, had separated himself almost immediately from the group, beginning a sort of challenge among the five assassins. He situated himself in the forest even further south, just off the road. The road was somewhat busy, with surviving Templars and their mages, soldiers, and most pleasantly, a smattering of Grey Wardens. He'd actually seen two Wardens pass by his spot during a particular lull in the traffic, one aiding the other as they struggled to continue to a supposed place of safety. They had never seen him coming. He'd slipped up behind them and, with a dagger in each hand, had slit their throats. Before they could bleed out too much on the trail, he had quickly hoisted the dead bodies, one at a time, over his shoulder and further into the brush so they would be out of sight and out of mind… At least for a day or two.

Once the bodies were well enough hidden, Raynan went back out to the road and kicked at the dirt with the sole of his soft leather boot, smearing the blood that had leaked into the soil as best he could. Then, upon the sound of more movement on the other side of the little hill he was behind, he slipped back into the brush once more, pulling the hood of his cloak up over his head and merging with the shadows. He crouched down, eyes on the road to the south as he waited for his next victims to stumble their way out of the bloody slaughter that was Ostagar and into his little web.

Once she reached the campsite, everything was in flames, some already in ashes. There were bodies everywhere, some slumped atop the other and there were some who were headless and limbless. The sight made Gwenyth shiver and pause in shock as everything reminded her of the moment not so long ago when she returned to Highever Castle and saw all the lifeless bodies of her relatives and people she knew, and the memories caused her to become so distracted that she didn't realize that there were those ugly creatures around. She felt a loose tear roll down her eyes before she furrowed her brows, gripped the handle of her blade tight as well as the hold of her shield, and she turned around - just in time - and swung her blade violently towards the darkspawn. Its head flew to the other side, blood squirt up towards the air as she kicked it away from her and used her shield to get through a few more of them.

After a while, she managed to get through to the other side. Though there were still plenty of darkspawn and ogres about, she managed to make it to the other side with her head intact, even though her armor was barely whole. There were scratches on the metal and there were bloodstains mixed with her own as there was a bleeding gash on her exposed left arm. She tossed her shield over her head and around her neck as she held onto the wound on her left arm. Gwenyth followed the wounded fighters towards safety as they retreated, and she couldn't find the time to talk to any one of them because she ended up having to help a few of them onto the horses and carts as they looked to be more in pain than she was. However, while trying to stay stable, the Cousland girl ended up separated after a group of darkspawn appeared and threatened to attack the group of wounded fighters, and being able to still fight, she had to hold them back.

"Great, I'm all alone," She sighed as she stopped at the side of the dusty, blood stained road and pulled off the armor on her right arm to take a good look at her wound. She had to rip the sleeve of her clothing to fully see it, and she winced at the sight of the shard from the weapon the creature used had remained to stay put right in the middle of the wound. "Oh, that's not good," She groaned while pressing the shard between her fingers and looked away. Gulping down the smallest ounce of strength that she had left in her, she bit her lower lip hard and pulled as strong as she could. She felt the shard slide between her flesh and out of her, the red liquid drizzled down to the ground as she threw the shard across the road, towards the bush. Her head lowered as she was on the verge of fainting. Her eyesight went to a faint blur, but being stubborn, she used the ripped cloth to wrap the wound - tight. She then pushed herself to her feet, her weakened arm had weighed her to the left, more so as she used it to hold onto the shield. Her sword was held by her right hand, but it wasn't her strongest arm.

"Come on, Gwen, we have to get out of here..." Gwenyth spoke to herself, trying to motivate herself, but everything blurred out after two steps. And after another two more steps, she was dragged to the side, tripped and landed into the bushes. At that few seconds, everything had turned black.

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.

She felt something tugging on her arm, there was a warm breath against her skin, and a dark, husky voice speak towards her, but she couldn't respond. She couldn't move. She felt everything, but she could move herself at all. A sudden pressure on her wound made her twitch. She came in and out of consciousness and it was a while before she finally opened her eyes and she sat up. A groan escaped from her lips as she clenched on her arm and frowned. She cussed under her breath, which wasn't so lady-like, and she was surprised that her wound had been changed and it looked a lot cleaner. It scared her to think that there may have been someone around to have fixed her like that without her knowing, and from a sudden fear, she stood up and looked around to find whoever was there, yet no sign. "Anyone there?" She called as she kept her hand on her wound when it began to throb. There were no signs of her weapons either.

Gwenyth caught an glimpse of her weapons then a man hidden by the bushes. She took a step back and wasn't exactly sure what was going on. She wasn't sure if she should run or if she should just scream to see if anyone around could hear her. Whoever that man was, he had a vibe that she didn't like, but because he was the first person she thought of to aided her with her wound, she couldn't help but thank him for it. Gwenyth, being raised to be respectful, cleared her throat and said, "Um, thank you for helping my wound..."

'Did that even sound right?' She thought to herself.