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Scouts of the Inquisition (Alvis & Sync)

His faltblade held close to his body, Disa began a spin, getting his momentum up before letting the blade flick out into a wide swing. An Avvar screamed as his arm came off, and then went silent as Disa drove the pommel of his weapon into him, crushing his throat. An axe hammered into his back, the armour holding, but sending Disa staggering a step forward. With a feral snarl he rounded on hsi attacker. His wild swing missed, the blade hitting the loamy soil, and as his foe stepped in for another strike, Disa ripped the blade up. From the way teh sword had been hitting, the sound of it, it had seemed like it was a blunt blade. The way the front of the Avvar's skull came off cleanly, it was clear this was not the case. Disa dropped the blade down again, smashing through an attempt to parry his strike, killing another man.

As the blade was stuck fast in his kill, Disa knew, even in his state, that he'd not be able to bring it to bear on the next coming foe. He let go of the flatblade, and pulled the antler dagger he'd finished working on before they'd left on this mission, and tackled the man in a blind rush, a sword scraping along his side, slicing partly through the hide armour, and pricking along his skin. The dagger drove down, once, again, and a third time, each blaw a ragged hole in the chest of his foe. With a ragged roar he came up from the man, a blade about to land on hsi shoulder when that tingle of energy came, the barrier sliding the blade off of him, and Disa took the chance to slam the dagger into his foe's eye. The next attacker was far enough away that Disa took the chance to free his flatblade, and come around again.

Garret dodged around a man, daggers sliding along the unprotected area in the lower arm, and the other across the face of the man. He fell back, screaming, and Garret let him fall from his mind. He'd be dead in a few more moments from blood loss. Another arrow hammered into an oncoming Avvar, and Garret had to admit the hunter was doing his job well now. A pair of whickering axes came out of the fog, and a sharp cry came from top of the rock bluff. A form staggered, and then fell, rolling off of the rock and falling to the loamy ground. A bow was lying a few feet away, arrows scattered on the ground. He didn't move for a moment before a faint groan came from him. Garret grit his teeth, wanting to go to him, check on him, but there was little he could do even if he wasn't under threat.

Garret had to duck under a swing, coming up close to the man, and hammering a fast stab into the groin, leaving the man suddenly crumpled and bleeding to death. He ahd to admit, he'd never been this fast, never been this good in a fight. But he'd also never had to fight like this before, not against so many. Perhaps he'd just needed the chance to shine. He dodged three more strikes, sweeping low, and slashing off the kneecap of a man, grinning as he did it. He straightened, ready to go, feeling the barrier from Loriel around him. Just in time too as an axe came off of it, just before his face. The barrier flickered a moment, dissipating the force, and Garret moved in again. Dagger to arm, to hand, boot to leg, retreat. A fast exchange that left another man reeling back, and then things went wrong. A much larger man with a hammer appeared, and swung in faster than Garret could process. The hit took him from his feet, the barrier shattering under the blow. He wanted to shout for Loriel, call for a refreshment of the barrier, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. Not enough time, the barrier had barely been set up.

With a savage howl Disa came charging out of the mist, one hand sweepign forward, tossing all he held in it at the hammer wielder. Teh man staggered back, looking at the clutch of severed heads taht ahd hit him, and then went on the defensive as Disa attacked him. The flatblade kept coming in, battering off of hte haft of hte hammer, Disa not letting up for a moment. The hammer swept a blow to the side, and the two ment slammed into one another, shoulder to shoulder, eye to eye. They stayed there for an instant, locked, sizing one another up. The Avvar tried to headbutt Disa, but the Chasind jerked his head to one side, and clamped his teeth down on the mans ear. With a howl of pain, the Avvar tried to withdraw, and Disa rolled onto his back, kicking out with both legs, sending the man away from him. Disa spat out the now severed ear, and came on again.

Garret couldn't believe the way Disa was fighting, and more, had seemed to know that he had to come back to help defend him. Garret rolled away from a blow, but then felt a fist hammer into his face, dazing him for a moment. Pain, white hot and sharp came from his side, and Garret staggered, a spear withdrawing from his ribs. Another blow hit his leg, and a sword hit his stomach. Garret fell.
 
They were getting desperate, Loriel knew. The Avvar just kept coming. There was always one to take the place of one who’d fallen, it seemed. Loriel’s staff kept swinging, sending bolts of electricity darting towards her target. Occasionally the skirmish-ground – could really call it a battle-ground – was bathed in a dull orange-yellow light as she managed to set another opponent alight. But she was getting weary – not mentally, so much, but physically. She could feel it in her arms, the way her staff seemed to get heavier in her grasp each time she swung the tip in the direction of an Avvar warrior, the way her muscles sighed with relief when she lowered her staff to allow herself to let loose with her Immolate spell. But she kept going, for maybe the very lives of their group depended on her not failing.

By now the hunter must have fallen. She could no longer hear the twang of his bow, no longer noticed the way an Avvar jerk as an arrow thudded into his armour. She couldn’t be certain, but she knew it had to be. She didn’t allow herself to dwell on it, she couldn’t afford to swell on it.

Then Garret fell…heavily and badly.

“Garret!” the young elf cried out, even as she realised Disa was right there and unable to stop the scout from being taken down. She wanted to get to the man, to help him, to try and heal him, but she couldn’t. Garret was on the other side of a wall of warring forms. Disa was there as well, fighting hard, somehow holding his own. She was cut off, and Disa was possibly the bigger threat at this time.

A well of rage and pain and frustration filled her. “Elgar’nan ma halam!” she screamed in anger. “Na din’an sahlin!” She pushed her remaining will and energy out, and was surprised when the act of desperation yielded results: she felt a surge of energy flow from her staff through her slight frame, felt the energy and mana combine to fuel a new pattern she hadn’t known was there, felt the energy release seemingly from her chest as a dozen bolts of electricity surged out of her and and raced towards the wall of Avvar. Three were struck, and two fell – Loriel felt a small wave of satisfaction as she saw the forms slump. She recognised a new pattern of a spell had appeared in her mind – Barrage, she instinctively knew the name of the spell pattern to be – but she had no time to think more on it. Indeed, she had no time to think on anything.

As she readied her staff again to resume attacking, she felt, for the briefest moment, a sharp burst of pain as a heavy object thudded into the side of her head…she didn’t know what it was, and conscious thought stopped almost immediately. She didn’t feel her staff slip from her nerveless fingers, didn’t feel herself dropping to her knees, didn’t feel the wetness of the ground soak her robe as she toppled forwards and landed unceremoniously, didn’t feel the wet grass on her face as she hit the ground. She didn’t feel it when one of the Avvar – the one who’d hit her with nothing but a clenched fist, in fact – roughly grabbed her and pulled her upright, brandishing her almost like she was a shield with one hand on her shoulder holding her steady and the around her neck as her head limply lolled forwards…and she didn’t hear the guttural words that were delivered exactly as an order…
 
Blow after blow sailed out, each one seeming to be faster than the one before it. Nicks were showing in the hammer haft, something that had the Avvar worried. He'd blocked axes without trouble, but this flatblade was working through his weapon. The man attacking him was barely recognizable as such, bursts on almost animal howling with eyes that blazed his rage and rancor, all of it poured into every blow. The Avvar had their own Berserkers, but not ones that fell this far into the battle madness.

A burst of magic nearby almost killed him.

Oh, not a single spark of power came towards him, but the flash made him look to the side, see the elf throwing her power into his kindred, killing more of them. So many lost on this errand, but it would all be worth it if they could-

The Avvar threw himself back, the sharpened tip of the flat blade kissing across his face, nearly taking out his eye. Had he been a second later, a touch slower, he'd have had his head in half. He hit the loam, rolling to get to his feet, when a shout rang out that halted the oncoming berserker.

"You hold! Hold or she dies now!" An Avvar shouted. Disa seemed to quiver a moment, like he was restraining himself from a leap forward. He'd had his foe, had him dead to rights. But here, this knife-eared spellbind was gettign caught and forcing him to...

To remember his duty.

He stood upright, his flatblade moving to a rest position. The Avvar he'd been fighting stood properly, and nodded.
"Disarm. You will come. Or we kill them all." The Avvar point to the other members of the team. Garret was shifting, looking to be in bad shape, and the Hunter moving even less.
"And if I do? You'll kill us later." Disa answered, barking back in the same language as the Avvar.
"Nay. No point in death. But you bear the eye." Disa looked at the emblem of the Inquisition that was on the shoulder of his armour. "We take you. Tell your people. And your Herald will come for you. And I kill him. Show the power of Korth!" He raised his hammer at the last word, adn his men chered, though raggedly. "Then you go. No profit in death."
"And you'll treat my wounded?"
"Nay. Men dying. Should hurry your Herald along. Else we kill you all now." Disa paused, knowing it was a gamble, but drove the point of his flatblade into the loam, and spread his arms wide.
"So be it."

As the Avvar came close, ready to claim the flatblade, Disa drove his armoured fist into his face, laying him out on the ground.
"If any of my people die for your pride, I swear that I will kill you for it, even if I have to crawl back from the Fade as a spirit to do it. Remember that when you lock us away." Disa spat at him. The Avvar roared in laughter.
"I like this man! Inquisition chose well with you!" The man stood up, a little wobbly on his feet. "What they call you?"
"Disa the Restless, of the clan Silverfire, Tribe of the Winter Moon, son of Asger and Ida." There was a murmur amongst the Avvar.
"Chasind!" Disa only nodded, adncouldn't help but wonder if there was recognition to his name among these men. But that was neither here nor there, their leader had taken the flatblade, and other lifted the wounded.

They were taken deeper into the Mire, Disa taking care to note where they were going. It might be helpful if they escaped to be abel to track back where they'd been. There was a keep, looking rather worse for wear, and brought to a small chamber. Disa was led in, the others dumped onto the stone floor. The door closed, locking loudly behind them. Disa moved to his companions. Garret was bad. THe hunter at least as much. Loriel looked to be out, but not wounded. And it was her she needed.
"Elf! Mageling! Loriel, wake, we need you here!" He hissed to her.
 
Cold. Hard. Wet. Her head hurt. Easier to stay still. Simpler to keep her eyes closed. Maybe it was all just a prank being played on her by fellow students; if it was, it wasn't a funny one. For all that First Enchanter Irving had preached that all mages were equal in the Circle, regardless of their origins, it wasn't always that way in practice. Even in the Circle Tower, humans were regarded with greater favour than elves by some of the instructors, and by more of the students. She supposed she had things a little less difficult than City Elves, perhaps, but she was still an elf, and elves would always be regarded as lesser beings by humans, regardless of circumstances. No, easier to lie on her back on this cold, hard surface than open her eyes and acknowledge her situation and surroundings.

A voice was speaking to her. She wasn't sure, at first, who the voice belonged to or what it was saying. It was like the voice was part of a dream, a not-very-nice dream. Maybe she'd open her eyes and discover she was back in the Circle, and that things she thought she remembered were, in fact, part of an unpleasant dream. That would be nice.

Wait...had that voice used her name? And it...sounded like Disa...the Disa she didn't like because of his attitude...why wasn't he part of that dream, too? She frowned, groaned softly, tried to roll onto her side, groaned again as aches and discomfort reminded her they were still present, slowly opened her eyes to find Disa kneeling next to her.

Damn...it wasn't a dream.

They were in a room of some kind - not large, dirty, poorly-kept, but dry. There was a closed door; she had to assume it was locked, that Disa might have tried it. She was lying on the floor, stone pavings intermingled with dirt and rock - that was the source of the cold and hard feelings she'd woken up to. Well, the cold was also due to her soaked robe clinging to her in a non-revealing way. Her head still hurt...she pressed a hand gently to the right side of her face, felt it gingerly. Nothing was broken, at least...but she'd have a nasty bruise tomorrow.

"My head hurts," she croaked quietly, her soprano-pitch voice gaining strength as she uttered the words. "Where...where are we?" It was largely a rhetorical question - she didn't reasonably expect Disa would be able to give her any firm or useful response. Her gaze, mainly focussed on the floor to this point, shifted to first focus on Disa before it swept around the room - which, from her current position of lying on her side, didn't reveal much. With another groan of discomfort she slowly pushed herself into a seating position. It was then that she saw...

"Garret...!" she breathed softly. She had to get to him, had to try and help him. She could also see the other man, the hunter, lying in an undignified heap next to Garret's crumpled form. Her arms and legs felt like they were made of iron, it was so hard to get her moving from the spot she'd been dumped on...
 
Disa nodded as Loriel started to move. It was going to take her a moment, he knew, to get her bearings properly. He'd been knocked out, choked out, and otherwise rendered unconcious more times than he could count, and that was all before he'd left the Wilds. He only hoped it didn't scramble her magic too badly. But she was moving. And that meant Disa needed to do what he could.

He crossed to Garret, making sure he was laid out as best he could.
"His side, fairly deep. His leg is a mess, but it's the gut wound you need to handle. It might be going bad from the hit. I'll check the other." Disa told Loriel as she made her way over. He stood, adn made good on his words.

The hunter was in bad shape, worse than he'd thought. Throwing axes left a bad wound, Disa had seen enough of them to know that these were worse than usual. Likely made that way when he'd fallen from the rock. he checked the first, driven deep into the hunter, looking like it had broken through ribs to do it. The other was in his shoulder, looking as though it might have broken a collarbone. Disa sighed. With taht kind of wound, it wasn't likely the hunter would be able to properly draw a bow for a long time, if ever. Still, Disa laid him out, looked around hte room, adn came up short on most cases for thigns that they coudl use to try and help this. Removing the axes woudl make the blood loss much more pronounced, so it was safest to leave them in for the moment. Loriel might be able to help more when she was done with Garret. All he could do now was wait.

Garret woker with a start, and he jerked at the sudden pain that greeted him. He looked to start to roll over, only to find Disa had appeared, pressing him down onto the floor.
"Garret! Garret, easy. You're hurt. And yes it's bad. Now lie still, let the mage do her work." Disa was speaking over him. Garret didn't try to fight him now, the pain of waking to the wounds was enough to make him want to pass out again. "And stay with us. As long as you're awake, we know you're alive."
 
It was only when Disa drew her attention to the hunter that Loriel saw how bad he was, saw the axes still buried in his chest…and she visibly paled. They’d left the axes in him…? How was the man still alive? She could see the shallow rising and falling of the man’s chest as she drew nearer to the two injured men, she could hear the ragged breathing from him… She knelt next to the hunter first, took in his situation, his injuries, the presence of the weapons that had felled him, and she instinctively knew it wasn’t going to end well for the man. Still, she tried. Disa would probably find fault with her if she didn’t.

She placed a hand on the man’s chest, doing her best to ignore the sticky, slowly-pulsing blood that seeped between her slender fingers. She could see that the axe in his chest was deep, slightly off to one side of center, knew that it at least hadn’t ruined his heart – the axe was on the wrong side of his body for that. He’d lost a lot of blood, though, she knew just from how pale he was, how soaked his clothes were under the light armour. The rise and fall of his chest was irregular, jerky, shallow…she didn’t even try to save him. Between the axe in his chest and the axe in his opposite shoulder, Loriel knew she’d at best be able to make the man comfortable. There was too much damage even for healing magic to repair. If she’d been able to get to him sooner, perhaps she could have saved him, but now…

She turned her head to look at Disa; she knew her expression said what her words were about to. “I can’t help him, Disa,” she said softly. “The best I can do is ease his pain, but it won’t delay the inevitable. He’s already dead; his body just hasn’t realised it, yet.” She didn’t wait for discussion from the sergeant; instead she wiped her blood-stained hands on her hips, staining her robe, and shuffled around to face Garret.

The scout was in better shape than the hunter, at least, but not by much. Garret had suffered a puncture wound to his chest, and a slash – probably from a sword – to both his abdomen and his leg. The man might be able to be saved. The slash to the leg looked deep, but it would heal in time if she could save the man. The chest wound was a puncture, so probably hadn’t done anything significant – if it had, Garret would be dead by now. The slash to the stomach didn’t look bad, at least, so there was hope for the scout. He wasn’t bleeding as heavily as the hunter had been. She paused, then reached up inside her robe and, with a forceful jerk, and another, tore a strip from her garment and pressed it to his stomach.

“You’ve got to stay with me, Garret,” she began conversationally, the soft tremor in her voice betraying her worry, as she tried to stem the oozing blood. “Right now, you’re the only person I could call a friend. You don’t want me to be alone, do you?” She focussed her will, drew on her energy, felt the soft warmth of gentle magic flow from her hands into the scout’s battered body.

Garret’s eyes fluttered as he recognised Loriel’s voice. The man knew the elf was trying to help, but still, the hesitation…magic… He tried to smile, ended up coughing quietly. “Do my best, Loriel.”

“You did just fine, Garret,” she replied quietly as she forced a smile to her lips. “Tell me a bit about yourself; after all, you already know a little about me. Where did you grow up?”

“A…little village…few days west…of Redcliffe,” Garret replied slowly. “Foot of the Frostbacks. Don’t know how we…survived the Blight. Seemed like it…missed us. Small farming…village…”

“What about your family, Garret?” she asked sincerely. She could feel the magic working to fix the injury, knew she was having some measure of success. Would it be enough? Maybe. She might be able to give him enough time to get him back to Haven for proper care. Even with the magic gently flowing from her hands to his wounded frame, her hands were working to try and help, pressing firmly on the gash to help the magic do its work.

“Mum…dad…three brothers, all older,” the scout murmured. “Farmers. I never was very…good at it.”

“Why join the Inquisiton, then?”

“Thought I’d…do some good,” he admitted. “Try and help people…people like you. Fight for them, fight…to defend them. No-one else seems to…be doing it.”

She flushed slightly, and a small, warm smile played over her lips. She didn’t know if he’d see it. “I’ve seen you fight,” she noted teasingly. “You should’ve stuck to farming. Where’d you learn to fight, anyway?”

“That…hurts,” Garret protested, although it was weak, and Loriel could see in his face he wasn’t being serious in his protest. “Three brothers…not always peaceful. Plus…bandits, looters after…the Blight. I was always good at…being stealthy. It just…made sense.”

Loriel nodded her understanding as she felt the magic slowly withdraw. She pulled her hands away and could see that the injury to his stomach had been mostly healed. The chest wound, the leg wound…not so much. But the young mage could see that Garret looked a bit healthier now than he had earlier. Maybe she’d get the opportunity to help again a little later. She looked up at Disa, who’d apparently taken a few steps back to let the mage do her stuff, her bloodied hands hanging at her sides. Even Disa would surely be able to see how taxing the healing had been on the young mage.

“I think he’ll be okay,” she told the sergeant. “For now, at least. In a little while I can try again, look after that wound in his chest.” She reached up inside her robe again, jerked another strip of her garment away, pressed the strip to the scout’s chest where the wound was. In her heart she wasn’t so sure that Garret would make it, but she’d be damned before Mythal if she didn’t try to help the man who was, arguably, her only real friend in the world. “I’ll stay with him, for now.”
 
Disa nodded at Loriel's words. He had seen great acts of healing through magic. The Blight had shown some truly powerful mages working for their aid, and he'd seen dozens of men on the edge of death back on their feet in a moment from some spells.

But Loriel was not a mage on that level.

Disa had harboured a faint hope that perhaps with the way her magic had been working, progressing in fits and starts, mayhaps her healing might have done the same.

But it was only just that. A fools hope.

The hunter stirred, his eyes fluttering open, and Disa shifted so that the prone man would be able to see him.
"How...bad am I?" He gasped out. Disa rest a hand on his collarbone, a gentle pressure.
"Don't try to move." Disa warned.
"That...that good, eh?" The hunter managed a faint smile. "I'm...I-" The man coughed, and Disa shook his head.
"Don't try to talk."
"Not...not much time. "I...I'm sorry. Screwed up. Cost us." The man gasped. Disa hesitated, but then shook his head.
"Mistakes were made. You stood with us when it mattered. I'll see to it that you're honoured. Who do I inform of your passing?"
"Wife. Cottage. North of Redcliffe. They...know me in town."
"I'll go myself. She'll know you fell with honour." Disa lifted his hand, clasping it firmly, an oath to a dying man. "Svefn heilsa, vinr. May you Maker take you to his side, adn dwell with him in the light for all time." As Disa spoke, he gently slid the shallower of the two axes free from the hunter. The man was paying attention to his sergeant, and not the wound, adn didn't react as the iron came free. Disa made a cut on the man, opening the artery in his neck. The blood flowed quickly, and the hunter slumped. A moment later his breathing stilled, and Disa closed the eye of the man.

Standing up, Disa approached Garret and Loriel.
"I see you're having better luck here. Do what you can for him. We've lost enough so far." Disa observed dryly. He handed the small throwing axe to Loriel. "If you need more cloth for bandages, you might find it easier to cut it free than rip it." He offered by way of advice, letting himself sit near Garret. If he was going to lose another man, the least he could do was be there for him when it happened.
 
Without a word, Loriel took the axe from Disa. She knew – just knew – that Disa would probably blame her for the death of the hunter. Part of her wanted to rail and scream at the man, but that would get her nowhere. Another part of her wanted to give in to the feelings of inadequacy she was harbouring, but that would also get her nowhere. She shuffled around for a moment so that she was again facing the hunter, could easily see that the man was dead – if the nick in the man’s neck hadn’t killed him, the loss of blood from the removed axe would have. She respectfully bowed her head to the dead hunter.

“I never knew you, but I still feel your loss. Rest easy. Falon’Din ma ghilana Bellanaris’an,” she offered quietly. She said nothing more, instead keeping her head bowed for a few moments, and keeping her mouth closed for the same. A couple of minutes later she lifted her head and returned her attention – and her facing – to Garret.

She had to do better for this man, she knew. She didn’t want to him go as the hunter had. She didn’t want him to go at all. She had no special feelings for Garret – that would be incredibly stupid and naive of her if she did – beyond friendship, but that didn’t mean she wanted him to go. If Garret died, it’d just be herself and Disa, and there was no way Disa could be anything else but terrible company for her. She took a deep breath and pulled her will again, summoning the energy to again fuel the pattern of healing magic within her. This time she was going to focus on the hole in his chest – his leg would heal in time on its own, if necessary.

Garret’s eyes fluttered as he felt the elven girl’s hands on his chest. “Thought you’d left...me, Loriel,” he whispered.

“You’re in my care, such as it is,” Loriel replied softly as she felt the warmth of healing magic flow through her hands again. “I’m not going to give up on you.”

Garret managed a rueful smirk. “As carers…go, I’ve had worse…than you,” he noted wryly. “At least you…you’re trying.”

An embarrassed smile flashed over the elven girl’s lips. “Well…I can’t let you die, can I? Image how much hell Disa would give me if you did.” It was delivered as a teasing comment, and somehow Garret seemed to pick up on that.

In truth, Garret wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He knew Loriel wasn’t being – at least, she didn’t seem to be – nasty or negative with her comment, but a part of him suspected she was right in some manner. “He’s not that…that bad, Loriel,” he murmured in reply, not knowing whether Disa would hear them. “Give him a chance.”

Loriel chose to not respond to the comment. Garret might be right about Disa, but her own, rather limited, experience with the sergeant didn’t lend itself to a glowing reference. Instead she focused on her will, on channelling the magical energy she was harnessing into the man’s body…she was trying to focus on his wounds, his injuries…she was pushing herself.

“Loriel?”

The question drew her out of her focus. “Yes, Garret?”

“Why did you join the Inquisition?” Garret was genuinely curious, she could see that. It was a darned good question, too. It took her a few seconds of contemplation before she began her response.

“Lack of real choice, I suppose,” she offered finally. “When the Circles held their vote for independence, I voted to remain. I didn’t want to leave the safety of the Circle. For all that I disliked life stuck inside a Tower, it was home. But the Grand Enchanter let the motion to be independent stand, and I found myself stuck. It might not have been so bad if the Templars hadn’t reacted as they did, but there was probably no other way they were going to respond. Not all Templars struck back, of course, just as not all mages rebelled, but I soon found myself in the open, an apostate, and a hostile Templar possibly around every corner I came to. So when I heard rumours of the Inquisition starting up, I made my way to seek it out. It alone seemed to offer some degree of sanctuary from the fighting; as you said, the Inquisition so far seems to be the only group trying to end it.”

She paused to adjust the strip of cloth that was covering his chest, lifted it up briefly to look under it and was happy to see the wound was nearly closed as her magic did as she willed it. “So there you have it. Not a very inspiring tale, I’m sure, but it’s all I’ve got.”

Garret smiled faintly. He now had more colour in his cheeks than he had before. “It’s as good a…a tale as any,” he said simply.

Loriel nodded, then frowned slightly. The wound was resisting her somehow. She pushed her will, pushed her reserves of mana, felt the resistance finally give way…and she exhaled loudly from the effort. Then she slowly fell back onto her haunches, her own face pale from the effort. She patted the scout’s shoulder gently. “Rest, Garret. I think you’ll be okay, now.”

Garret nodded, then closed his eyes. He certainly looked to be doing better. Loriel, looking more drawn and drained than she had earlier, turned a weary but satisfied expression on Disa.

“I think he’ll make it,” she advised the sergeant, her breathing heavy, as she dragged the back of her hand over her forehead to wipe some sweat away. “There’s just the gash in his leg to go, but that’s not bad. I think I’ve properly patched up both injuries in his torso. I didn’t see or feel anything out of the ordinary.”
 
Disa listened. It was somewthing he found wasn't done as often. If they were not a part of a conversation, then a person just pretended to ignore all the sound that came from one. The Chasind never said anything in the open not meant to be heard by all. Loriel's tale was not uncommon, even for those that carried no magic. There was a certain safety in coming to the Inquisition, even if you were put back into service on the lines. Still, he found himself....dissapointed. Not surprised, what she said made sense, perfect sense really.

But there were so few people it seemed that had joined the Inquisition because it was what needed to be done, no other reasons.

When she approached him, DIsa nodded at her words.
"Assuming the Avvar don't have something on their weapons that we don't know about." He held up a hand as he finished speaking. "Not a criticism Mageling. Honest hope." He looked back at the fallen hunter, and just kept his gaze there for a moment before turning back to Loriel. "You know your triage. That's good. But I have to ask. Is there any chance of getting Garret back on his feet? Not fighting fit, but enough to move reasonably quickly?" Disa was running the plans in his head. The pair of throwing axes gave them a small chance. If Garret was on his feet,then they might be able to slip away...but Disa knew taht Loriel wasn't terribly gifted in moving silently, beyond what she might have learned from the Dalish. But Garret couldn't move as he was. If the situations were reversed between them, and Loriel was wounded, Disa knew he'd risk it, and try to go for assisstance, but as it was he had the exact wrong companion for the task.
 
Loriel clearly hadn't considered that the Avvar might have added a poison to their blades, and it showed on her face - why hadn't she thought of that? But, then...would poison really be useful in a place such as the Fallow Mire, where it seemed to rain more often than not? The rain might wash away any poison before it could be brought to bear. She was still learning, too - would her healing magic be capable of detecting poisons, and eliminating them? It was a question for a later date, though, not now. Disa had also just conceded that he wasn't telling her off for that one, so there was no need for her to push it - although she knew she'd have to bear it in mind for later instances...if there were later instances. Right now, Disa's query demanded her considered attention.

"I...I don't know," she admitted quietly, as she turned her head to look at the wounded scout. Her dark hair clung to her face and neck as her head turned, and the movement made her realise for the first time that her face ached badly from where she'd been struck earlier. She forced herself to not react to the discomfort, though...at least not beyond the stifled grunt that escaped her chest.

"He might be okay in a little while," she added after a few seconds of thought and consideration. "Depending on how soon you were thinking of doing...whatever it is you're thinking of that needs him to be able to move quickly. I can heal his injuries in time, but I would argue he'd still need rest. Injuries I can tend to, endurance I can't."

She turned her attention back to Disa, looked up at the man with an almost-apologetic expression. She was sure the man had little appreciation for her, and under the present circumstances she could hardly disagree with him. Several thoughts - and associated comments - ran through her head, but she dismissed them all. They would achieve nothing right now, if ever. "Probably not the answer you were hoping for, but that's the best I can offer right now. Sorry."
 
Disa sighed as she spoke. It was about what he'd been expecting if he was being honest. More powerful, or at least more specialized mages might have been able to do this, but Loriel was not the mage he needed right now. But she was teh mage he had right now, adn she'd kept Garret alive. She was better than the alternative.

"A rule that you should keep in mind. As long as you serve in my squad, don't apologize for an honest evaluation of your capabilities. Even if it's not what I want to hear. I'd rather know what can or cannot be done than a pleasing lie." He told her off-handedly. He shifted, pulling hte buckles free on his breastplate. He set the piece of armour down, and then pulled a few oilcloth wrapped bundles off of it. They were thin, but as Disa unwrapped one, he reveled strips of dried meat in it. He handed one to Loriel.

"It's not much, but it'll help keep your strength up if you're going to keep pouring yourself into Garret. And at least give yourself a check up. They put you down, and if you don't feel that yet, you will soon enough. Take it from me." He explained. Small emergency packets of food were easy enough to hide on hsi person for moments like this. But Disa had yet to find a way to secure water on his person and keep it hidden.
 
The sigh said much to the young elf - or at least, that's how she interpreted it. He was disappointed that she wasn't better than she was, he wanted more in a mage than what he had in front of him, he was possibly thinking of trying to break out but she was just the wrong person to attempt it with, if she'd been better he might have attempted something to break their current confinement, she was sure there was a negative thought in the sigh somewhere about her being an elf... She knew that such interpretations were likely not accurate but she'd built up a negative picture of Disa based on what she'd seen and heard of him so far, at least so far as the interactions between them had gone. She couldn't see things between them changing any time soon, if ever.

That he attempted some level of conversation with her as a small surprise. He might not have liked it, but he appreciated her honest appraisal of the situation they now found themselves in. He was right - she didn't have to apologise to him for being forthright; and certainly not for being what she was. Maybe she took that a bit far, but she couldn't help it. Apologise for errors, maybe; apologise for reality, no.

The offer of a slice of meat was a bigger surprise, although one she kept hidden from him...or maybe she just didn't really have the energy in herself to react with surprise. Watching him pull slice of cloth-wrapped meat from inside his armour...that was something she hadn't expected. She decided, as she took the offered morsel with a nod of thanks, that she didn't want to know anything more beyond it being something edible. Knowing what it was, or how long it had been there, might lend itself to the offering being refused. As she took a small nibble from the sliver of meat she patted her robe with her free hand, found the small bag of mixed nuts she kept, withdrew the bag and set it in her lap.

"I'll have a bruise tomorrow," Loriel agreed slowly, as she gently touched the side of her face where the fist had struck her. "It aches a bit right now, but I don't feel too bad other than that. I'll look out for myself once I'm sure Garret is okay. One more effort should be enough to make sure he'll be fine." She paused, took another bite from the meat, pulled the bag of nuts open and offered it to Disa.

"You've heard my weak story of how I came to be here," she offered conversationally. "What brought you to the Inquisition?"
 
Disa worked through the dried meat, letting himself settle in place. There was little to be done from here. There was a brief moment of curiosity in Loriel handing him the bag of food, but then, turnabout was fair. He took a small handful. The variety was worth something to him, even if they were essentially having a protein based meal. When she spoke again, it brought about the question that he knew was likely going to be inevitable if they were sitting down adn not doing anything. And since he had no spite or bile to throw at her, she was likely to be mroe conversational. It made sense.

"I'm a warrior Loriel. It's...about all I am, all I've ever been. The world is coming to an end, or at least is giving it it's very best try. The Inquisition was not a choice for me, not really. The world is going to need it's very best on the lines if it's going to survive that. And without trying to sound arrogant, I know I'm far better than most. The Inquisition is the only group doing anything about this really. So...here I am. Doing what has to be done. Again. I thought I was done after the Blight, but..." he trailed off, letting his mind wander, before finishing his words. "...the life I was going to have after the Blight never panned out properly. So fighting in this war is all I have to me these days. And when it ends, and the world keeps on spinning, I suppose I'll have to go find another." He finished.

It wasn't everything, there was so much more he could have said, but that wasn't something he shared with anyone these days. Not about the end of the Blight, not about the estate, the vengeance, the victory, and certainly not about Amaranthine, and everything that had gone on there. Not even his clan knew all that had happened, and Loriel was far from a place that he would share such with her. He closed his eyes, letting a wash of emotion run over him a moment before stilling it, replacing it with a simmering anger, the one that always lurked just beneath his thoughts. A side effect of who he was, what he was.

"If we get out of this...when we get out of this...I think you might want to get a little training on how to keep yourself safer if your opposition gets close to you. That bruise is a small miracle, it easily could have been a killing blow." He pointed out to her.
 
There was something...almost gratifying in the simple fact that Disa accepted her offering of nuts. Loriel knew that their relationship - such as it was - was far from smoothed out, but at least the sharing of food between them helped to settle her concerns about him, if only a little. And they were sitting close enough that they could share food between them without moving more than arms. Maybe Garret had been right about Disa after all...but she'd still reserve any final judgement for much, much later. Things like this helped, though.

"We've all got a few things we don't want to talk about," she acknowledged softly with a slow nod of her head to indicate her understanding. He was talking to her, but he wasn't opening up to her - not that she'd have expected him to do so, when they'd only known each other for a few hours at best, and his opinion of her (as well as her opinion of him) was less than charitable. She'd not be the one to pry. He'd tell her things when he was ready to...IF he was ready to. But what he had said spoke volumes about the man before her - he was weary, he was seasoned, he was hardened. He knew what he wanted in a squad; he just didn't seem to be overly prepared to recognise that not all squads were going to immediately measure up to his standards.

His comments about her training...they were not unwarranted. "I know some mages have trained to use their staff as a physical weapon, and not just a magical one," she noted carefully. "It was something I only managed to see through a cracked-open door. In the Tower, students like myself were kept separate from Harrowed mages; we only moved up when we'd completed our Harrowing. Apprentices weren't taught much beyond how to control what magic they had and how to use a staff, in addition to a good, academic education. Only mages who had completed their Harrowing were taught more involved magics and spells."

She took a bite from the slice of meat and chewed on it silently for a few seconds. "I'll need to somehow get a new staff when we get back to Haven," she added a little optimistically, as she quickly looked around the room and didn't see hers. "Mine will be somewhere in the swamp, probably lost until some random adventurer finds it by chance. Once I've got a staff...maybe I'll be able to convince a more senior mage to help me learn a few things that might make me more useful in the field."

She paused, then sneezed daintily as she felt the cold of her soaked robe slowly seep through her, and she barely managed to suppress a shiver. A mage's basic robes weren't meant for excessive outdoors use.
 
Disa shook his head as she spoke, knowing that what she was saying wasn't wrong, or even skewed. But the fact that most mages he had met knew nothing about protecting themselves physically had made his life easier adn more complicated in equal measure. Protecting the mages was difficult, but killing those opposing him had been easier.
"There are a few soldiers int he scout teams that use a spear as a weapon. They should be able to show you how to use a staff, since they seem to just be spears with longer blades and can throw spells." Disa point out. "I can see about getting them to give you some training when we get back. After this I think we might be rotated into the back lines for some recovery time."

Her comment about getting more help fromt he senior mages made Disa wonder. On one hand, if it was possible for them to bring her skills up to par with more experienced field mages, then so much the better. But from what he knew of mages, it normally took a very long time to properly train a mage to know anything worth knowing. She had thus far been discovering spells. Was that how mages used to learn, before the circles, before things had been standardized? It was possible that Loriel might be stumbling into something that had a power all it's own.
"Worry about making sure you don't get killed in the field first. Magically you're doing better than I expected. That should sort itself out." He told her calmly. Disa noted the way she was holding herself, knew that she was likely not taking the cold stone well, not with the weather. He sighed, and unfastened the clasp of the cloak he wore. Heavy fur from a great bear, He dropped it on her without much in the way of warning or ceremony. Or aiming. What he ahd intended to fall on her shoudlers instead landed on her head, covering her in the heavy garment, which, he supposed, would still serve it's purpose. "Don't freeze on me. We need you healthy enough to help Garret." He was suppressing a smile at the sight of the mage covered in the heavy fur, not his intent, but still somehow amusing. He looked away before she could get a look at him, letting her draw what conclusion that she might from his action. He spent the time to get his breastplate back in place. Without the cloak, he was goign to be wanting the armour to help keep his own heat in.
 
The elven mage stayed silent as Disa spoke. She was having trouble wrapping her head around the fact that Disa had just given her a compliment – not a full-on positive compliment, true, but still a compliment. And he was offering constructive assistance in helping her improve. This was…completely not what she’d been expecting from the man. There was a person under the coldness, after all. There was still some harboured suspicion that he had an ulterior motive for suddenly being almost-nice to her, like he was waiting for her to make a mistake so he could turn it around and use his niceness against her, but-

Loriel’s thoughts were momentarily halted when something large and heavy and furry hit her, almost completely covering her in the process. It was warm, too, a little, like it had recently been near an open fire or worn or something. The impact rocked her slightly, although she didn’t topple over or lose her balance, and she found she had to struggle to find her way out of this…object. It took her a few seconds, after she popped the remainder of the strip of meat into her mouth, to find her freedom, and it was only then that she realised that it was Disa’s heavy cloak that she was now encased in. She paused as she wondered why he’d do that for her – she looked up at him curiously, but his head was turned away so she couldn’t see his expression. Was there some dark humour in this for him – throw his cloak at her in a supposed act of kindness, but do it in a way to cause problems and express annoyance? She’d probably never know, and she wasn’t about to ask. He was putting his armour on, likely to help him keep some warmth after giving his cloak to her. Maybe the simple response would be best.

“Thank you,” she murmured quietly, sincerely, as she finally found the edges of the cloak and wrapped it around her thin frame. The cloak was almost as large as she was – certainly it was as tall as her, and she could probably wrap it around herself twice if she tried hard enough. She remained huddled within it for a few moments, feeling some warmth finally creep back into her body, before she turned her attention back to Garret – as, she realised, Disa had suggested while she was trying to find her way out of his cloak.

“Still with us, Garret?” she asked the scout quietly. He did look better, she thought. Garret’s eyes were closed; to her eyes, the scout looked as though he’d been resting.

“Of course,” the scout replied quietly. “No way I’d miss seeing you find your way out of the sergeant’s cloak like that.”

“And here I thought you were a friend,” Loriel pouted good-naturedly. That didn’t stop the flush climbing her cheeks, though.

“Of course you are,” Garret countered lightly. “Friends tease each other, don’t they?”

“I suppose that’s true,” she agreed, a faint smile on her lips. She was gratified to hear strength returning to the scout’s voice. “Let’s see about that leg of yours, shall we?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Garret pointed out, as he watched Loriel prepare herself. In truth, he was still wary of the young mage – she was discovering magic on her own, it looked like, and there were no Templars to back them up if she got out of control. He wasn’t sure about having a mage around without Chantry controls, but she was all they had – and if it hadn’t been for her, he knew, he’d be dead. That she’d in all likelihood saved his life with her magic didn’t temper his caution around mages.

Loriel nodded, but remained silent as she gathered her will and focussed on pushing energy towards his remaining injury. Through the magic she could tell that the injury had gotten a little infected – to be expected, given their situation – but it wasn’t bad enough that she’d not be able to fix it…she hoped. She steeled herself, pushed her will and energy against the injury, felt it respond slowly. Maybe healing the injury in his leg would be a little easier after her previous efforts at healing his other injuries.

Time would tell.
 
Garret waking up to see the cloak incident did make Disa smile. Maybe the mageling wasn't so bad. For now. Disa turned back to to see Loriel starting to work on Garret's leg.
"Sir?" Garret asked quietly.
"Yes?" Disa answered easily.
"Since we seem to have some time on our hands...what's with your sword? I've never heard it make a sound. Is it even metal?" Disa had to grin at that question.
"No. It's not. It's a single piece of bone."
"Bone? What bone is that big?"
"That's a bit of tale."
"We have nothing but time."
"Fair enough." Disa settled back on his haunches and started to talk.

It had been a long year in the Wilds, with three apostates fleeing into the swamps to try and avoid the Templars. So long as the Templars had the phylacteries though, there was never any doubt that the mages were going to get found. Still, one of them was clever, and had made a plan. They led the Templars deep into the swamps, the heavy armour slowing his pursuers down, but they kept coming on. While they might have been able to subdue and kill the mage, the mage led them to a cave. When they came to it, they called the mage out, offering clemency if he would but give himself up.

The Mage declined.

From the cave came a giant. The mage had ensorcelled it's mind, binding the beast to his will, and he sent it to do battle with the Templars. While the Templars were skilled, they were not able to counter the magic that the mage used to augment the giant, and fight the beast. Against either one alone they might have prevailed, but against both it was a lost cause. Had the mage simply released the giant, and went on his way, the Chasind would not have had any issue. But the mage now had a taste for dominion, and set out to take more to his will. He set his sights on a Chasind village.

We did not stand idle. The clan rallied, scouts having seen the battle, and seen that the mage was heading straight for a village. I went with a band of warriors, assembling to halt the beast before it reached the village. The mage met us, adn simply ordered the giant to slay us all.

But the Chasind are not Templars.

We did not have the skills of dealing with magic, but we were well practiced at bringing down the beasts of the land. Our shaman kept the barrier off of the giant, allowing other magics through, but letting us bring the beast low. Those with mauls attacked the front of the leg, aiming for the knee, seeking to break the joint, while those of us with axes or swords went after the back of the leg, seeking to hamstring it. One of our fiercest warriors, Yrsa, it was her blade that finally cut the hamstring to bring the beast to it's knees. We lost several of our number to the beast before that, and another to a sweep of it's fist once it was brought low. I put a sword through it's eye, the death throes of the beast tossed me aside, breaking three of my ribs. But Yrsa and I both went for the mage. The mage tried to warp our minds, burn us away with flames, but we pushed through it. We spit him on blades from two sides, and left his corpse for the wolves.

"From the femur of the giant, the shamans crafted my flatblade as a trophy of battle. They blessed the blade, swore it to the clan and the ancestors. It is the finest weapon I've borne." Disa finished.
"Shame the Avvar have it." Garret lamented.
"Only for now. Thats word is part of my legacy. I'll have it back before I leave this mire." Garret smiled at Disa's casual oath. COming from the Chasind, he beleived it.
 
Although she was mainly focussing on the healing of Garret’s leg, Loriel wasn’t so focussed that she was unable to listen to Disa’s tale of how his blade came to be. It was interesting, very interesting: she knew of giants, of course, and knew that apostates – real apostates, not every mage that now existed following the dissolving of the Circles – were given to wandering the lands and either causing mischief or trying to hide. Of course, there was that lingering suspicion that the tale might have been embellished a little for effect and grand story-telling, but a part of her doubted Disa would distort a story simply to satisfy his ego. Likewise, she didn’t doubt the sincerity in Disa’s voice when he declared that he’d have the blade back, and sooner rather than later.

Apostate. Again, the word bounced around in her mind. She was an apostate – not by choice, true, but with the Circles being dissolved and there now being no Chantry supervision of mages, then all mages were, by definition, apostates. By rights, then, Templars were authorised to hunt down and kill apostates; normally a Templar would be obliged to return an apostate to a Circle, but as there were no Circles for apostates to be returned TO… She felt the healing magic waver as her focus slipped, and she mentally shook herself back into the moment and returned her attention to the scout’s leg.

Garret must have noticed something – if anyone was going to, he would, given it was his leg being looked at – and cast a quizzical gaze at the young elven girl. “Are you okay, there, Loriel?” He was understandably curious; it was his leg that would or would not be healed by this girl’s hand.

Loriel sighed softly and nodded. “Yes. Sorry,” she replied quietly. “I was just…thinking. Random thoughts.” She gave a small, somewhat-forced smile. “You know, those thoughts that start at one point then lead to another, then another…”

“Okay,” the scout accepted without too much hesitation. He suspected there might be more to it, but he wasn’t going to ask about it; if Loriel said she was fine, she was fine, and that was enough for him at this time. A few seconds later he felt the healing warmth withdraw, then the gentle pressure of her hands was removed.

“There…I think that’s done it,” she declared. “He’s as right as I can make him at the moment. After some rest he should be okay to move…but gently, to start with.”
 
Disa nodded at her words. They were going to be here for the duration likely. They were reduced to waiting for rescue. Which was one upside of being a part of something like the Inquisition, there was a support group behind them that would come for them. And Disa should have reported back by now. Hopefully Harding would take action. Taking the moment that he had, he got out his map and charcoal, and scribed away the path that they had been led down. It was unlikely to be needed at this point, but keepign his maps up to date was a passion of his. He'd make sure that they were as accurate as he could make them.

He had just finished when the door was opened. Disa had an axe in one hand, ready to cast, make a move, when three more men in Inquisition colours were shoved into the room. The door slammed shut, and hte lock clicked. Disa stared a moment, trying to match the faces to names.
"Dylan. What brings you out this way?" Disa asked one of htem. The man scowled.
"Looking for you. We're...supposed to be a rescue." The man answered.
"Really? And how's that working for you?" The man flushed, adn was about to snap back when he noticed that Disa was smiling. Both men burst out laughing at the situation.

"Oh, it's trouble. We were supposed to maintain our distance, but we found your camp, and knew that thigns had gone wrong. Thought we should try and help." Dylan admit. Dylan was a tall man, nearly of a height with Disa, but much lighter. Where Disa was bulky and built, Dylan was wiry and lithe. Dylan looked around the room, and sighed when he saw the hunter. "Oh no. Zander?" He asked, coming close to the body. Disa shook his head.
"Didn't make it. Even magery can only do so much." Disa answered. "What of your own people?" Dylan was crouched beside the hunter, now identified as Zander, and hung his head a moment.
"I sent Paula back to Harding to make sure that what happened was known. The rest of us are all right. A little rough around the edges, but when we saw how badly outnumbered we were, we surrendered to the Avvar." When he saw Disa look at him with some distaste, Dylan responded quickly. "I'm not you Disa. Outnumber me four to one, and I know I'm already dead. This way there was a chance to get my people out alive." Disa looked away, not wanting to comment farther.

"I see Garret is still with us?" Dylan asked as the rest of his squad were sitting down along the wall. Garret weakly raised his hand, a thumb upraised. "And who is this then? I see you acquired yourself a mage! Didn't know we had experienced ones on the scout teams!" "We didn't." Disa answered bluntly. "Green as grass, tower trained." He let that hang for a second or two. "But she's blooded now. She's killed in defense of her squad. A little training and we'll amke a soldier out of her yet, eh Mageling?" Disa gave Loriel a brief wink. He seemed at ease with Dylan, like someone that knew Disa better than most.
 
A slightly-awkward silence fell over the room as Disa accepted her words – or it felt awkward to Loriel, at least. Disa was apparently not too bothered by her thoughts on moving Garret – he might not have liked it, but it didn’t appear to upset him in any way, if his decision to draw his map was any guide. So if Disa didn’t appear to be bothered by it, why did she feel he might be? It was an annoying curiosity – she didn’t like him, he didn’t like her, why did she find herself wanting his approval? She’d be asking for a transfer to a different team when they got back to camp anyway, so trying to make him approve of her – of both her presence and her capability – was a pointless waste of her time and effort.

She looked at Garret as she continued to kneel next to the scout, wrapped snugly inside Disa’s cloak as she was. The man looked healthier, she could see that. Colour had returned to his cheeks. His breathing was steadier, deeper. His face appeared calmer. His clothes and armour were still blood-soaked, and that wasn’t going to change any time soon, but he was no longer bleeding profusely from the wounds he’d sustained. In time, she knew, she’d get better, stronger, more competent with her magic…right now, she had to make do with what she had.

She’d just settled to focus on her own mind, to try and study these new patterns of magic that had formed in her head – especially that last one, Barrage – when the door was opened roughly. Her head snapped around to look at the doorway, and almost without thinking she began to draw on her will and mana reserves and was calling up the Immolate spell pattern…until she saw three more Inquisition scouts walked into the room to join them. She relaxed her body, relaxed her mind, let the summoning of her energy fade.

Disa and this Dylan knew each other – quite well, it seemed. Disa appeared to show that he could be a nice person when he wanted to be; that was news to her. The new arrivals were concerned about Garret, and apparently happy to see him alive; she finally found out the hunter’s name when they asked about him and heard he couldn’t be saved. And Loriel did not miss the deliberate pause when Disa “introduced” her to the others – not by name, just by lack of experience. He did, at least, follow up with some faint praise, but that wink he used…some many interpretations, some of them likely wrong. And at least one of this new team got away to warn Lead Scout Harding what was going on.

While Disa and Dylan continued to chat between themselves, the other two members of the new team – both male, both human – approached her and Garret. They squatted near her, side-by-side almost, watching both her and the resting scout.

“Maren,” the man introduced himself, then pointed to the woman. “Davin. Both scouts in Dyaln’s team.” Maren wasn’t unkind, but he wasn’t friendly, either.

“Loriel,” the young elf replied, moving her attention from Garret to the two newcomers. “I’m the team’s rather inexperienced mage, as I’m sure you’ve heard by now.” She couldn’t hide the faint note of bitterness in her voice as she spoke. “This is Garret, scout in Disa’s team.” She hesitated for a couple of seconds, then shuffled the cloak until she was able to push a thin arm out, and she held out her hand to Maren. The two humans looked slightly surprised by the offer, but then took her hand in turn, Maren first followed by Davin.

“What happened to you?” Maren asked curiously.

Loriel sighed softly as she thought back. “The short version? We left main camp a day or so ago, as ordered. Scouted through the Mire, found nothing significant, ran into undead and fought them back. Came upon a rift that hadn’t opened properly and went wide of it. Set camp after a time. Woke up to find we were being scouted by Avvar. Tried to get ahead of them, but they caught us. We fought hard, but there was too many. We were overwhelmed by numbers…and then I got hit hard on the side of the head. Next thing I know, I’m here, and tending to Garret.”

“Garret was bad, then?” Davin asked with some concern.

The elven mage nodded. “He’d taken a spear to the upper chest, and sword slashes to his stomach and leg. Bad, but not beyond my limited ability. Zander, though…he’d been felled by two throwing axes, badly. I couldn’t help him.”

“At least you saved one,” Davin noted. “Better than losing both of them.”

“I suppose,” Loriel agreed. “Doesn’t make me feel better about losing Zander, though.”

“That’s true,” Davin replied sympathetically.

Garret’s eyes had flickered open during the brief exchange, and he turned his head slightly to regard the other two scouts. “Maren…Davin…” he muttered quietly. “What are you two doing here?”

Maren coughed slightly. “Would you believe we’re rescuing your sorry ass, Garret?”

“Really.” It wasn’t a question, not at all, and there was no way the extreme doubt could be hidden in Garret’s voice. After a couple of seconds the three scouts laughed quietly, and even Loriel smiled. “I think your rescue efforts need a little work, Maren,” Garret added when the laughter had faded.

“So how’d you end up with a mage on your team, Garret?” Davin wanted to know. To Loriel’s surprise, there was no hostility or nastiness in the man’s question.

“Not sure, exactly,” Garret admitted. “Disa had requested an additional person to fill the final spot on our squad. He’d requested another scout or hunter, but Harding put Loriel in. Disa wasn’t thrilled, but I’d say Loriel’s earned her place so far. If it hadn’t been for her we’d have likely stumbled into that rift instead of avoiding it, and her Barriers have kept us going longer than we might have otherwise done. Then she can attack with her staff at a range greater than a bow can do. I might be a little worried about a mage roaming freely as she’s doing, but she’s helped us along. She’s all right, in my book.”

Loriel flushed slightly at the compliment as the other two scouts both nodded their appreciation to the elven mage. “You’re just saying that because I healed you, Garret,” she offered, in an attempt to deflect the praise.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Loriel,” Garret countered. “Magical support has been more beneficial than I’d thought it would be. Disa’s right, you’re coming along well, given how little experience you had when you joined us.” There might have been some attempt to boost Loriel’s self-esteem and ego in there, but Garret wasn’t going to shy away from it.

“If we get a mage…who goes?” Davin wondered out loud.

“You,” Maren replied quickly. “You can pick locks better than me, sure, but you’re useless with that bow.” He paused, then grinned broadly; the grin grew when Davin whacked him on the upper arm in response to his comments.
 
Dylan and Disa were crouched down speaking quickly.
"We've got a mage adn two axes between us. Not exactly the makings of a proper break out Disa." Dylan pointed out.
"I know. And Garret isn't ready to move with any speed. And I won't leave him behind." Disa responded.
"So...we're waiting?"
"All we can do right now. The Mageling says that he's not ready to move, adn she made sure he didn't die, so I'll be taking her word for it."
"All seems fair to me."
"Besides, we just need to hang on until Harding comes for us."
"Harding isn't coming." Disa fell silent.

"What?" He demanded.
"Harding isn't leading anyone into the Mire. She sent me and mine out to try to find a direction that would lead the rescue team in to get you. Word is, Harding is sending word back to Haven for a proper rescue. COuld be COmmander Cullen will put a team together, and come get us. Or they might send the Herald." Dylan said quietly.
"Really? The Herald? You think they might send the Herald in for us?"
"You sound surprised."
"It's a waste of the Herald's time. The Commander could wrap this up in a few hours, a fast hard strike of his best men, and they'd have the Avvar put to flight in no time. They won't send the Herald. Not for people like us. So in the meantime...let's pool our supplies. I don't think that the Avvar intend to take much care of us."

Dylan and Disa went over what food they had. Dylan had a similar trick to Disa, with oilskinned food tucked under his armour. Between the new arrivals and Disa, they had enough food to keep everyone moving for maybe a few days at most.
"Not good." Dylan observed.
"Best we can do." Disa answered. He hesitated. "Mageling. Witht eh damage that's been dealt tot he Veil in this area, I don't suppose you can...push us through it, can you? Take us through the Fade, and maybe we leave through one of the breaches?" Dylan just stared at at Disa, the enormity of the madness of the suggestion filling the room. But at the same time, if it would work, it was way out from under teh Avvar's boot. And they needed to examine all their options.
 
Loriel found that she’d actually been a little caught up in the conversation between the three scouts – she hadn’t been a participant so much, but she had been included and had been paying attention. She hadn’t really noticed that Disa and Dylan had been talking quietly between themselves, beyond the general question of pooling supplies to see what they had and how long they could make things stretch, and when Disa asked his question of her, the elven mage had to stop and focus on him before she’d realised what he’d asked. At least the answer was easy enough.

“You want to…to physically enter the Fade?” She was suddenly very aware that all conversation in the room had stopped, and every head in the room had turned to look at her. “N-no. It would require more mages than just me to do it, we’d need a large amount of Lyrium, there’s a ritual to be done to even crack the Veil – and that’s to just send your minds into the Fade while you’re awake. To actually enter the Fade, to walk there in person…the last time that was done, according to Chantry lore, was about a thousand years ago – and we all know what happened afterwards, at least as the Chantry tells it. In any event, I have no way of controlling the rifts to make one open or close.” She paused for a split second. “I…I understand and appreciate why you’re asking, but…no.”

She sighed and shrunk back into the cloak, as she sat down and drew her knees to her chest. “Even if I could do all that on my own…the Fade is not a friendly place. It shifts and moves, it’s difficult to determine direction. Your own will defines it, in a way. It’s the world of spirits and demons, and any presence in the Fade would eventually attract them – a spirit might guide you, if you’re lucky; a demon would surely try and devour you. There are few landmarks there to help guide you. Even gravity isn’t what you’d expect – you can look down and see a snippet of land you’re walking on, and then look up and see an island floating above you. You can see echoes – ghosts, if you like – of people, alive and dead. You can sometimes hear conversations you may have had, or conversations others may have had. The Fade reflects both yourself and where you are, at the same time – it is drawn from your will and shaped by it.” She sighed softly. “I didn’t especially like it when I was there for my Harrowing; I won’t be thrilled about going there again.”

Garret almost looked relieved as Loriel rattled off a large number of reasons to not go; he was well aware of the Chantry’s teachings and had no desire to reproduce them. Maren and Davin, not knowing Loriel, looked a bit more dubious but simply didn’t have enough knowledge of their own to counter the mage. For her part, Loriel, having effectively shot down a wild escape plan, kept to herself. She wasn’t sorry about it – Disa had already told her not to be apologetic for speaking her mind like that – but that didn’t make her feel better about being the negative one.
 
Disa nodded as she spoke.
"Very well, much as I suspected. It was a long shot." he said quietly, and gave Loriel a nod of thanks, or at least acknowledgement.
"If it was such a long shot, why ask?" Dylan all but demanded.
"You'll never land a long shot if you don't take one Dylan." There was a moment of silence.
"And besides, from what I hear from the mages, do you know how dangerous going into the Fade is?"
"Yes." Disa's answer was instant, no hesitation.

"You...seem pretty sure of that." Dylan point out.
"Don't ask more Dylan. There's some things you don't want to know the answer to." Disa answered quietly. Disa stopped, a thought that was uncomfortable coming to him.
"Mageling." He looked back to Loriel. "With all the spirits spilling through into here...what are the chances that they might...find a home nearby?" He asked, looking pointedly at the corpse of Zander. He didn't relish the idea of having to dismember the corpse of someone that had fought alongside him, was hoping that the answer would be other than what he feared, but there was still a side fo him that would do what had to be done.
 
She hadn’t expected to be addressed again; that was clear in the way the young mage slowly raised her head and looked at Disa. It was equally clear, from the small scowl on her face, that she was getting annoyed – again, as far as Garret knew – by Disa’s referring to her as “mageling” and not by name. She had thought there was some progress, however small, in the relationship between herself and the sergeant…clearly there had not been. Or maybe he was being an ass to her because of the new faces around them.

“My name,” she snapped sharply, ”is Loriel….as you well know.” She paused, then drew in a slow breath to try and calm herself. To everyone else in this room, fighting and injuring and being injured and killing and watching others be killed and capturing and being captured might be old-hat; to her, it wasn’t. Now that the adrenaline and euphoria of this situation was wearing off, the strain of the predicament she was in was starting to get to her.

“I…no, I don’t think you have to worry about his body getting up again,” she replied slowly, although she wasn’t as confident in this reply as she had been in others so far. “The Veil needs to be weakened before spirits can come through. That’s why there are currently reports of demons where the Veil has been breached, but not many reports of them away from where the breaches are. If you were to take his body near a breach and leave it there for a short time, I’d reasonably expect a demon might take an interest; but here, we should be okay.”

She lowered her chin to her arms as she huddled up inside the cloak; she could feel a slight tremor go through her frame as she did so. She knew it was only the cloak that was hiding her reactions from the eyes of the others.

“Sounds good to me,” Maren offered, clearly not thrilled by the suggestion that Zander’s body might get up and start terrorising them, but somewhat put at ease by the mage’s assertion that it would not. Davin, not having anything else to offer, just nodded in agreement. Garret nodded as well, but gave Loriel a curious look; it could be argued that, of all the people currently in the room, he knew Loriel the best, and he wondered if there was more going on within her than she was showing. He knew her field experience was limited to this expedition, and she’d been thrown into the worst possible experience as her initiation.
 
Disa nodded at her words, but caught the difference in tone. WHen she'd talked about the Fade, going into it, she'd been utterly certain, the onyl edge to her voice had been from the disbelief that someone was even asking. This time there was a touch of uncertainty. She didn't know completely. But she felt it wasn't likely, and he was going to have to trust her on that front. If nothing else, he knew what it would do to morale if he took the throwing axe to Zander and carved him up so he couldn't rise. It was time to wait now, see if anything new came from their captivity.

Disa leaned against the wall, closing his eyes, letting that warriors rest come on him. It would keep him ready to react, but it let his body relax enough to recover some strength. Dylna was doing something similar, he'd been on campaign more than once before, he kenw some of hte tricks.

Garret coughed, a feeling of odd heat in his limbs making him wonder if something might be amiss. But then, he'd been exposed to a great deal of magic lately, it was probably just a byproduct of that.
"You know he calls you that as something like a nickname, right?" He said softly to Loriel. "He doesn't often call people by their given names. Usually titles...or names he makes up. He thinks using a name has weight, shouldn't be done casually. If he was trying to insult you, well...you heard him break out the slurs for you. Since the fight, how often has he used them on you?" He asked her, managing a faint smile. "I think he likes you."

Garret gave another cough, leading to a shudder this time, putting some discomfort of his newly healed wounds. Loriel had stopped him from dying, mended much of the damage, but it still felt tender.
"Are you all right?" He asked her, barely loud enough for her to make out. Whatever he did, it was clear he wasn't trying to drag her intot he light witht he others if she was trying to keep something private.
 
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