He couldn't see through the light. For brief moments he considered the fact that maybe he was dead. But he could hear things hitting the steel of his armor; clanging against his right arm he raised to shield his eyes. There was wind shrieking all about him, battering him from every side, whistling eerily in his ears. He thought his blood in his veins would boil. The Darkspawn sense crawled along his limbs like fire, telling him he was surrounded. He couldn't see them or pinpoint an exact direction. He swung the sword clutched in his hand wildly and with little use.
He shouted names, any name at first, inching his way forward as best as he could. Someone had to be out there, in here" Someone had to be wherever he was. Each step he took he kept shouting as the wind and the light continued to bombard his every sense.
Surrounded! His instincts cried. Too late! Replied his guts. If I am going to die here, I am going to do it without fear. I will not sully Duncan's name, I will not have my last act as Ferelden's King be soiling my pants-"
He braced himself and straightened into the maelstrom, brandishing his sword. With monumental effort he began a slow and steady charge forward, rattling a battle cry.
"For the Greeeeey Waaaaa?" All the sounds faded. His senses eased. His limbs no longer felt on fire.
There was color suddenly, quiet sounds. He smelled ale, food, wood fire and heard the ungodly scriiiiit of his metal sabatons scrapping against floor boards. He had exactly three seconds to realize that behind him was some sort of door slamming shut, with a polished grand length of bar and before him were chairs. Chairs and tables. And he was still swinging his sword about whilst barreling full force into them.
Alistair had spent his life trying to puzzle out various confusing things: women, magic, women, women, magic, politics and women. There was nothing quite so confusing however as to find yourself in the middle of what seemed like an inn when seconds earlier you were in the middle of fighting for your life.
?"aaaaht?" His battle cry fell limp on a particularly confused note as he skidded to a halt into the pile of chairs. He was surrounded by several broken seats which were certainly the result of his own handiwork. The seating he had destroyed seemed as if they were less than pleased with his entrance, clattering and tumbling loudly into heaps of broken wood.
"These are not the villains are you are looking for." Said an informative voice from the area he assumed was, indeed, a bar.
Alistair thought he'd jump nearly out of his skin, feeling a touch on edge. The voice was definitely female, but swaddled behind a cloak and held all of the lively cheerfulness that you'd find in, say...a corpse.
A few more swings of his sword as he considered her, the inside of the building and the chairs. He gave the pile of seating a few more swings out of habit; they were half-hearted at best and he was probably only doing it because he didn't know what else to do. There were people here and they were leaving and someone was talking to him. And this was definitely not a field swarming with Darkspawn.
?"They're chairs." Brilliantly observed. "Maker, how did I"what?s?"this isn't"I was just?" He did a full circle-shuffle and came back to the woman in the hood, blinking. ?"uhm, hello."
And that's when he noticed the Dragon.
] The King of Nothing]]
He shouted names, any name at first, inching his way forward as best as he could. Someone had to be out there, in here" Someone had to be wherever he was. Each step he took he kept shouting as the wind and the light continued to bombard his every sense.
Surrounded! His instincts cried. Too late! Replied his guts. If I am going to die here, I am going to do it without fear. I will not sully Duncan's name, I will not have my last act as Ferelden's King be soiling my pants-"
He braced himself and straightened into the maelstrom, brandishing his sword. With monumental effort he began a slow and steady charge forward, rattling a battle cry.
"For the Greeeeey Waaaaa?" All the sounds faded. His senses eased. His limbs no longer felt on fire.
There was color suddenly, quiet sounds. He smelled ale, food, wood fire and heard the ungodly scriiiiit of his metal sabatons scrapping against floor boards. He had exactly three seconds to realize that behind him was some sort of door slamming shut, with a polished grand length of bar and before him were chairs. Chairs and tables. And he was still swinging his sword about whilst barreling full force into them.
Alistair had spent his life trying to puzzle out various confusing things: women, magic, women, women, magic, politics and women. There was nothing quite so confusing however as to find yourself in the middle of what seemed like an inn when seconds earlier you were in the middle of fighting for your life.
?"aaaaht?" His battle cry fell limp on a particularly confused note as he skidded to a halt into the pile of chairs. He was surrounded by several broken seats which were certainly the result of his own handiwork. The seating he had destroyed seemed as if they were less than pleased with his entrance, clattering and tumbling loudly into heaps of broken wood.
"These are not the villains are you are looking for." Said an informative voice from the area he assumed was, indeed, a bar.
Alistair thought he'd jump nearly out of his skin, feeling a touch on edge. The voice was definitely female, but swaddled behind a cloak and held all of the lively cheerfulness that you'd find in, say...a corpse.
A few more swings of his sword as he considered her, the inside of the building and the chairs. He gave the pile of seating a few more swings out of habit; they were half-hearted at best and he was probably only doing it because he didn't know what else to do. There were people here and they were leaving and someone was talking to him. And this was definitely not a field swarming with Darkspawn.
?"They're chairs." Brilliantly observed. "Maker, how did I"what?s?"this isn't"I was just?" He did a full circle-shuffle and came back to the woman in the hood, blinking. ?"uhm, hello."
And that's when he noticed the Dragon.
] The King of Nothing]]