Ysalwen Surana, Warden-Commander of Ferelden (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
freedom_is_grey) wrote2015-10-09 09:48 pm
freedom_is_grey) wrote2015-10-09 09:48 pm
Oh, how time flies (with crystal clear eyes)
There are times when Ysalwen would almost be glad to have a council with the nobles of Amaranthine interrupted by a messenger. That day, however, is not this day, largely due to the news said messenger brings.
The Mother and her forces are attacking Amaranthine, a city with limited fortifications and a comparatively large population, and containing far more merchants and traders than soldiers of any stripe.
"Velanna," she snaps. "Justice. Oghren. I need you to stay here, muster the Vigil's defenses. Oghren is in command while I'm gone, and I expect you both to obey him."
Oghren smirks, just for a second, which prompts Velanna to make a noise of disgust. But that smirk fades quickly into a sharp, calm expression, which Ysalwen finds both comforting and familiar.
"Of course, Warden-Commander," Oghren says, casting away his flask of ale as he does so. (That, too, is comforting for Commander Surana). Ysalwen smiles faintly, her attention already focused outward, making plans as they walk toward the portcullis and the path down to the city.
"Velanna, you'll muster the mages and the healers. Posting yourself on the battlements will likely be the wisest use of your skills, but if the situation changes -- "
That, of course, is why Oghren is in charge. Ysalwen can trust him to keep the fate of the people -- all the people -- in mind, moreso than salving his pride.
"And Justice. Stay near the front gate, and help any of the surrounding farmers inside -- you'll be the last line of defense for a retreat, if one is called for. Now -- Sigrun, Nathaniel, Anders, you're with me. We're going into the city. Far too many of them are going to be slaughtered if we don't make the darkspawn come for us. No backtalk, no questions, we have to go. Now."
Liranan takes point as they leave the Vigil and run down toward the city itself, hoping harder than she's hoped save that last push at Denerim that they will not be too Maker-be-damned late.
*****
What meets their eye as they approach the city gates is chaos and fire and death, death, death. The taint of darkspawn is everywhere, in some spots it's so concentrated that even estimating numbers is beyond their capabilities. But at the gate, too, there is the commander of the city watch and also a --
Well.
Apparently the Architect has sent one of his disciples, a talking darkspawn like so many they have fought before. But this one -- this one does not move against them and, as they approach, seems to be defending the captain from the surrounding darkspawn horde.
It's the work of a short series of moments to further drive the darkspawn back, and that, of course, is when the captain and the Messenger confirm that the attack on Amaranthine is meant as a distraction, to make them leave the Vigil undefended and let the Mother's secondary forces conquer it in an all-out assault even as Amaranthine burns.
"You must go," the disciple says. "Back to the Vigil, to defend it, and your people, and your position. Otherwise there remains no threat that will hold the Mother in check."
There's a moment where Ysalwen can't breathe. If she had more people, if reinforcements had ever come, if the Order in Ferelden was what it was long ago instead of this bare handful of -- no. No, it is no matter.
"We protect the city. The Vigil has been reinforced, and Oghren knows how to keep his head in a siege. We save the innocents that can be saved, we destroy the Mother, and then we see what's left behind us. In peace, vigilance. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice. We all knew what that meant, or we all should have, at the Joining. If not, now is the time to learn. Away we go, my Wardens. And we -- and our people -- shall be the only ones that come back out again."
A pause, as the Messenger fails to depart. "You're with us, if you're as good with that weapon as your brethren have been. This is not only our fight."
Sigrun and Nathaniel do not look pleased, but the Messenger -- that one simply launches itself into the fray, Liranan, strangely enough, at its side.
(Someone needs to keep a watch, and the mabari has apparently volunteered.)
"The rest of you, this way. We'll follow the screams."
They will have a victory here. Ysalwen will see to it.
And in the wake of that --
That will be time enough to start thinking about the best way to approach the Mother. And destroy her and her forces forever.
The Mother and her forces are attacking Amaranthine, a city with limited fortifications and a comparatively large population, and containing far more merchants and traders than soldiers of any stripe.
"Velanna," she snaps. "Justice. Oghren. I need you to stay here, muster the Vigil's defenses. Oghren is in command while I'm gone, and I expect you both to obey him."
Oghren smirks, just for a second, which prompts Velanna to make a noise of disgust. But that smirk fades quickly into a sharp, calm expression, which Ysalwen finds both comforting and familiar.
"Of course, Warden-Commander," Oghren says, casting away his flask of ale as he does so. (That, too, is comforting for Commander Surana). Ysalwen smiles faintly, her attention already focused outward, making plans as they walk toward the portcullis and the path down to the city.
"Velanna, you'll muster the mages and the healers. Posting yourself on the battlements will likely be the wisest use of your skills, but if the situation changes -- "
That, of course, is why Oghren is in charge. Ysalwen can trust him to keep the fate of the people -- all the people -- in mind, moreso than salving his pride.
"And Justice. Stay near the front gate, and help any of the surrounding farmers inside -- you'll be the last line of defense for a retreat, if one is called for. Now -- Sigrun, Nathaniel, Anders, you're with me. We're going into the city. Far too many of them are going to be slaughtered if we don't make the darkspawn come for us. No backtalk, no questions, we have to go. Now."
Liranan takes point as they leave the Vigil and run down toward the city itself, hoping harder than she's hoped save that last push at Denerim that they will not be too Maker-be-damned late.
*****
What meets their eye as they approach the city gates is chaos and fire and death, death, death. The taint of darkspawn is everywhere, in some spots it's so concentrated that even estimating numbers is beyond their capabilities. But at the gate, too, there is the commander of the city watch and also a --
Well.
Apparently the Architect has sent one of his disciples, a talking darkspawn like so many they have fought before. But this one -- this one does not move against them and, as they approach, seems to be defending the captain from the surrounding darkspawn horde.
It's the work of a short series of moments to further drive the darkspawn back, and that, of course, is when the captain and the Messenger confirm that the attack on Amaranthine is meant as a distraction, to make them leave the Vigil undefended and let the Mother's secondary forces conquer it in an all-out assault even as Amaranthine burns.
"You must go," the disciple says. "Back to the Vigil, to defend it, and your people, and your position. Otherwise there remains no threat that will hold the Mother in check."
There's a moment where Ysalwen can't breathe. If she had more people, if reinforcements had ever come, if the Order in Ferelden was what it was long ago instead of this bare handful of -- no. No, it is no matter.
"We protect the city. The Vigil has been reinforced, and Oghren knows how to keep his head in a siege. We save the innocents that can be saved, we destroy the Mother, and then we see what's left behind us. In peace, vigilance. In war, victory. In death, sacrifice. We all knew what that meant, or we all should have, at the Joining. If not, now is the time to learn. Away we go, my Wardens. And we -- and our people -- shall be the only ones that come back out again."
A pause, as the Messenger fails to depart. "You're with us, if you're as good with that weapon as your brethren have been. This is not only our fight."
Sigrun and Nathaniel do not look pleased, but the Messenger -- that one simply launches itself into the fray, Liranan, strangely enough, at its side.
(Someone needs to keep a watch, and the mabari has apparently volunteered.)
"The rest of you, this way. We'll follow the screams."
They will have a victory here. Ysalwen will see to it.
And in the wake of that --
That will be time enough to start thinking about the best way to approach the Mother. And destroy her and her forces forever.