As the Oathbreakers had traveled across the short forests and into the Silent Plains, the burly Dwarf Garlenn hummed a bawdy song called the 'Tavern Wench and the Cucumber.' Though he didn't sing the words other than a phrase every now and again, letting everyone get the merest inkling of the song in their head and claiming his innocence along with their gutter-minds if they spoke up against his humming.

Once it was time to set up camp, Garlenn gave a glib (albeit joking) remark on the fact he was used to manual labor unlike some, referring to his previous status as a casteless. Without waiting to hear a comeback from the others, he went about finding the timber for the fire, using his large axe to hack through thick tree limbs that looked fine for burning. His axe wasn't made for wood chopping, but it did well enough.

Very soon he brought back four moderately sized pieces of timber and various smaller twigs, placing them in a rough pile. Once he had them together and placed in the correct order, with the larger limbs criss-crossed and the smaller ones for more able burning, he began to start the fire. That is, until Ovra at the front shouted they had riders coming their way. The Dwarven cutthroat raised a thick eyebrow, and stood up to his impressive height, heading over to stand with Ovra, axe now on his back and his left hand on his belt.

He right hand rested comfortably behind his back, a throwing dagger tucked into it just in case their new visitor had an unsavory and ill manner about him. Always rude to interrupt someone before they were feasted after all, eh?

"Got any debts ye not told us about?" Garlenn muttered to Ovra slyly.

Erinya wondered while changing the bandages on the wounds she suffered from that gods-forsaken wyvern they stumbled upon some time ago. They should be praising whatever Gods may be, every day, if no one showed any signs of poisoning, after all the beast is known for its venom. Her and the Qunari, Shok, took the most damage during the fight, nothing life threatening yet fighting a wyvern is always a close brush with death so they should consider themselves extremely lucky. Plus, she could add wyvern to the beasts she's fought and bested.

Or can I? Have I fought a wyvern before? Was I one, maybe? Could I have been the Maker, creating wyverns? she thought, as she poored a tiny amount of water on a particularly bad bite wound on her ankle, cleaning the ever-present dust from it. From ghasts to the wyvern, the company has had quite the rough trip in the Silent Plains, looking for the ever elusive Silent Plains Rose yet they stuck through it, they had faced worse. And Erinya wasn't really having trouble, having spent a fair amount of her life in the Anderfels, the weather was the least of her concerns. It didn't offer them the security of the forest but you could see any threat from afar away so there was some safety in that, at least.

"Are we the beasts or the wyvern?.." she whispered, a sudden flurry of thoughts overwhelming her. "We are intruders to their home, savage beasts we call them. We slaughter them, mercilesly, our lives carry more worth than theirs. Yet proud we'd stand, if we bested an invader in our lands. What makes some lives more important than others? Savagery? Looks? Maybe the taste. Although we haven't had Man yet, have we, Lady of the Anders?" she kept raving, her eyes fixed on a drop of blood, her blood, running down her foot and mixing with the dry lands they were challenging.

Her words weren't entirely hers, her thoughts weren't entirely hers, her mind wasn't entirely hers.

“We got company!” she heard Ovra yell and the hold her mind had taken on her broke at once. She grabbed her bow and put her quiver on her back as she made her way towards the Dwarf who was reaching for the handle of her weapon, too. Garlenn was already by her side, also looking towards the disturbance in the horizon, still way too far to make out what was coming, be it beast or man.

"Got any debts ye not told us about?"

Erinya didn't have any feelings whatsoever, towards the oncoming friend or foe. "I'll get into position." she simply growled, her face determined and ready.

Maybe this was the day. Maybe this was her last battle.

Maybe...

Eirny was engrossed in a single page covered in various writing and sketches: various notes derived from both credible and not sources on where the Silent Plain's Rose was said to be found. It was a curious thing, one not even she had heard of during her time of study in the Circle. Many people swore it was real while others laughed, calling it an old herbalist's tale. The drawings were contrived from the copious descriptions she had been given on the rose. Again, the 'facts' were few, far between, and often contradictory. She didn't know what, if anything, they would find in the end, she just hoped they found something soon. It had been several days already and the journey was grating on her.

She looked now to the others in her party. Many of them grizzled and tested adventurers in his or her own right. Even their newest member, Shok, looked better suited to the lifestyle. Eirny knew she was often the one slowing them down, though she did her best to push through as long and as fast as she could. It had been a year already since she joined the mercenaries, and while she definitely felt more at ease now she knew that she had a long way to go yet. She reminded herself that she wouldn't be here if she didn't need it. Just the thought of the events leading up to her apostasy was enough to stoke the fire in her chest.

A tiny light danced on the periphery of her vision now, not really present but showing itself to her in case she needed to call to it. She'd grown accustomed to the wisps popping in and out and this was just their way of letting her know that they were near; it was always a little more comforting to know one was keeping her company. The sounds of the group put her even more at home, even in these environs. The sand was unpleasant to say the least and a storm threatened to break soon. Nevertheless, the sounds of humming, singing, making camp, and the occasional guffaw brought back memories of what life could be like. It was a strange family, but it was hers now.

Shok and Erinya hadn't needed her help with the cleansing, mending, or wrapping of their wounds today but she kept a concerned eye out for them nonetheless. It never hurt to have a second opinion, especially where wyverns were concerned. Fascinating but deadly beasts. As was becoming habit, Eirny watched Shok work if no assistance was needed; she always offered her assistance, of course, wanting to be useful but was more than happy to watch whenever she was declined. Ever the student, it was always interesting to see a new or different way of doing things.

Now the dwarf called Garlenn was starting to set a camp fire. Now seemed as good a time as any to start unpacking her bedroll, when Ovra gave a shout. She watched as Garlenn and Erinya were quick to move into position. Not wanting to lag behind yet again, Eirny took up her stave with a readied position from the rear. She had a good vantage from here and she wanted to make sure she was in a better position to help support and defend than the last fight. "What've we got?" She wasn't sure if anyone had a good look at whom or whatever was approaching, but Eirny strained now to look in the direction Ovra seemed to be facing.

There is something about this place that is oddly calming to Aseema. A place with just the right amount of gloom, almost giving out an odd, poignant feeling. Staring at the horizon she finally has a vivid picture of the Silent Plains, like in the stories the Keeper would frighten the young misbehaving children. Reminiscing about it now it was a rather silly story for a legend. Although silly it may seem, it still made her feel wary to sleep here. In fact she probably would'nt as much shut her eyes, just to make sure Fen'Harel won't have his little visit in her dreams tonight.

Surrounded by a few dead trees Aseema looked up at the untamed skies above grasping her hood from the tireless winds, every once in a while the sky would flicker behind the clouds. A storm is on the horizon it seems.

She was taking a stroll, ensuring not to go too far from the campsite although, knowing her that's a short lived promise. Aseema would not miss up on anything worth looking around. She didn't like being stationary, her feet would get unbearably ansty.

After they've set up she insisted on scouting for some resources. Food, wood, some long lost buried treasure, anything really. Partially she's just making up an excuse to get up and do some exploring. And she was somehow productive of it too, on the way she had gathered some wild berries and some twigs for the fire. For a rather desolate place it seems to be inhabited by game in the area. She was no hunter like her mother, although she wished she was now, alternatively she'll have to make due with her limited foraging skills.

It took her awhile to get back to camp, mainly because the eerie consistency of stumps and trees made her walk in circles for a good few minutes. This is why she retraces her steps in her journal, taking note of her tracks in case she gets lost but this time her hands were full. It was up until she reached the end of the camp, she heard Ovra call out. From a distance she looked over at her then only she noticed the approaching company. She paced towards the camp and dropped the cloth sack of berries and bundles twigs from her arms, and joined in with the group peering on the windy horizon.

"I certainly hope they aren't looking for any trouble. " she mused loudly.

"Fever, vomiting, tremors, hallucinations, cold sweats..." Shok spoke half aloud as his hands seemed to move with their own accord as they worked to set up the tent that was freshly unpacked from the mage's bag. The grey giant had been murmuring that list to himself for quite awhile now, ever since he had finished treating both his and Erinya's injuries that they had sustained from their less than enjoyable encounter with that wyvern. "Joint stiffening, swelling, burning pain..." He continued the to spout off the effects that the creature's venom was known to cause in its victims as he finished establishing his tent. "No severe symptoms currently present. Diagnoses..." Shok said as he stood to his feet, wincing from the pain that shot through his side do to the beauty of a gash the wyvern clawed into him. "...good, but will monitor for further symptoms."

Shok took a step back to scan over the group for a moment, their current endeavor was proving to be quite the task and given his role as one of the team's healers Shok wanted to make sure that no one was at any too great risk of dying. His cold eyes moved first to their fearless dwarven leader who stood as confident as ever as she looked to the approaching storm with seeming zeal. Next he looked to the practical physical embodiment of gruff that was Garlenn who was yet again humming the same melody he had been for days which had gotten to the point it had caused Shok to question why this tavern servant was so enamored with a cucumber. His gaze eventually fell to the young elven lass who took the spot along side Shok as the team's healers, like many times she was engrossed within the pages of a book, Shok couldn't help but be reminded of himself for a moment, but he quickly pushed those thoughts aside. Sweeping the perimeter Shock noticed the other elf that made up the group wandering about, no surprise given the girl's thirst to explore. Finally Shok ended his exam of the group on his fellow wyvern victim Erinya who much like himself was tending to her own wounds from the battle. He stared her down for a few moments, looking for any blatant symptoms of the venom taking effect but fortunately none showed, though Shok made a mental note to examen her closer later.

Satisfied with the current status of the group Shok allowed his mind to wander over the events that had lead him to this moment. Shok couldn't help but slightly scoff at the idea that he and his cohorts were currently out on a job in the pursuit of the fabled Silent Plains Rose, it wasn't the plant that put distaste in the mage's mouth but rather the fact that they were searching for it for the fever dream of some third rate herbalist trying to achieve immortality. Shok let out a slight grunt of annoyance at the mere thought of such a prized ingredient going to waste, but he was able to distract himself with the thought of the packs of ghasts they had been encountering. Shok found them fascinating for the sheer fact that a few of the creatures appeared to be able to harness the use of magic, though in rather simplistic and primitive ways. He craved the opportunity to be able to study these creatures more up close and personally, but he had a job at hand.

As if on cue from this thought Shok found his attention being called to the bellowing cloud of dust that was quickly hurdling towards him and the others. Everyone seemed more than ready to jump head first into the approaching conflict, readying their arms in a matter of moments. With a grimace spurred by his still fresh wound as he readied himself, letting flames crackle to life in both of his hands. "Let's make this quick shall we?" He said with a blunt tone that the others had already learned to be the towering mage's usual.

Krios sat slumped against a large rock, having spent minutes finding the right angle to avoid any jabby bits in the back. Not that he could ever really be truly comfortable in this tainted wasteland – how could anyone? Krios however was perhaps more out of place than the others. After all he had spent the majority of his life on the snowy ranges of the Frostback Mountains, and now here he was stuck on a relatively flat ashen desert. The heat alone was enough to sour his mood, turning his already selective vocabulary into nothing more than a series of grunts and growls. Not even Garleen’s humming could lift his spirits, despite him knowing full well what the cucumber was for.

“Fucking dust” he hissed quietly as he was forced to spit out a bite of his dried beef, the grains of dust having found their way into his mouth. He spat a few more times in an effort to clear the oral debris, but he could still feel the fine grains between his teeth, giving him an annoying grinding sensation whenever he moved his jaw. The smell of the beef still lingered beneath his nose, causing his belly to let out a low-pitched esurient burble. He would not be eating anytime though, not with the current climate spoiling the food, and certainly not with the sudden commotion.

“We got company” shouted the group’s cunning leader. Krios looked towards the red-headed dwarf and followed her eyes off into the distance. Like the others, he clambered to his feet and waited to see what sort of company they were about to receive. His axe and shield now in hand, he moved more towards the front of the group; not because he had any intention of being the one to address the visitors, but because he wanted to put himself between the healers and any potential threats.

"Got any debts ye not told us about?"

“None stupid enough to come out here.” Ovra replied with a turn of her head, the slash of her mouth easily folding into a grin.

Turning her attention back to the horizon she peered at the charging cloud of dust and ash. The cloud itself seemed to be moving more erratic at this point, weaving left and right but staying in the general direction of the group. As it drew closer it was almost as if all the very pressure of the air dropped for a second, there was a low hum before the cloud of shifting brown was swallowed by an explosion of flame and then dark smoke.

“By Andraste’s Flaming Ass.” Ovra exclaimed beneath her breath as she stood up out of the crouch that she had reflexly dropped into.

Before she could continue a group of figures burst outward from the smoke. Seven horses, one ahead of the rest which hung close behind in dead chase. The rider atop of the lead horse was hunched forward pressing their steed, a dark colored imperial warmblood forward in a full gallop. Those that followed behind were of obvious mercenary make, but the uniformity of their uniforms of dark leather and metal suggested a more professional appearance. But the figure that drew Ovra’s eye was at the center of the group, a woman dressed in stark umbras and golds, a staff raised in her hand, whose ornate design curved upwards into a roaring black dragon,the heraldry of the Imperium.

Hunters, It was all beginning to make sense in Ovra’s mind now. Her curiosity peaked she raised her hand in a tight fist, signaling the others to hold their position.

The mage rose her staff towards the sky and rose her other hand towards the rider, muttering beneath her breath. There was another hum in the air as energies were pulled and contorted, then a release as a spark of lighting escaped from the woman’s outstretched hand faster than one could blink it slammed into the lead rider’s horse. The horse screamed and toppled into the dust, the rider falling to the ground with their mount, coming to rest a stone's throw away from the Breakers.

It was at that moment that Ovra choose to act.

“Time to move!” Ovra yelled towards the others and rushed forward towards the prone figure standing in front of them, signaling with her hand for the others to form a protective circle around the collapsed figure. In Ovra’s eyes, if the Imperium wanted this apparent runaway enough to send an experienced mage after them and a full group of hunters, well maybe a group of opportunistic mercenaries could squeeze a little bit more coin from them.

“Don’t engage unless ordered. That means you Garlenn!” Ovra told the others, as she stood arms crossed in front of her as the group of horses drew in close.

Eirny's eyes pierced the sand and discerned the group shortly after Ovra's did. She watched the scene unfold with large eyes, clenching her staff more tightly to herself when the horse was struck and the rider thrown. "Maker's breath...", she muttered under her breath. It hurt to watch the innocent creature injured to stop the one she bore only moments before. The smell of singed hair and flesh joined the wind and sand, turning her stomach; she watched the creature lie still as death. Whether it was momentarily stunned or truly dead, she could not tell.

Then Ovra's yell snapped her out of her momentary daze. "Time to move," and Eirny watched as the dwarf moved to place herself between the attackers and the fallen figure. The small elf would usually be feeling anxious at the situation, but this time she felt the anger bubbling up. After the call, she barely hesitated a moment before moving from her vantage to form up with the others. She tried to spare a glance at the person, but as they were face down in the sand, she couldn't make out much. She looked back to their leader now, awaiting further orders.

Almost assuredly, Eirny knew that Ovra hoped to gain something from this be it money, knowledge, or otherwise else she would not risk it. She knew enough to know that she thought it worth their time and resources to intervene, especially with at least one Tevinter mage involved. Right at this moment, Eirny held no good thought for the group; for all she knew, they were slavers chasing a runaway slave. That would explain why they attacked the horse and not the rider: didn't want to damage the goods. Already, she imagined the necessary focus and energy needed to place a paralysis glyph that would catch any but those she designated. She had recognized the order to stand down unless otherwise told, but she would be ready nonetheless.

Garlenn's raised brow was priceless at the cutting remark from Ovra. He barked a laugh, his next words probably facetious. "I love it when a woman takes charge!" he replied, and ran ahead with Ovra to cover the fallen mage, keeping one of his throwing knives in his hands just in case. He would check the downed rider for valuables on his own, but the others might not be appreciative of that. Plus it could complicate things with a reward, after all.

He sighed, cracking his neck and getting ready to get his game face on for what he knew would inevitably end in bloodshed. It always did after all. "Thinking of talking the Imperium out of killing someone is like keeping a Fereldan from owning a dog. You might halt it for a moment, but eventually their urge'll override their good sense and do it anyway."

The riders were drawing closer now, horses neighing and stamping along the somewhat uneven ground. The weather made it seem like they were harbingers of doom approaching to collect their souls.

The sweating images of the men now closing on them gave them a bit less of an intimidating impression, even if they were armed to the teeth with magics to be wrought. "Rough weather to be out riding, eh?" Garlenn called, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "Might want to head back inside where it's safe. We'll help your friend."

To anyone who wasn't a fool, the threat and implication was quite clear, even masked with a thin veil of congenial greeting.

Shok watched the cloud of dust hurdle closer and closer to both him and the rest of the Breakers, as it closed the distance it became much more clear to the mage what was transpiring. He recognized this deplorable sight all too well, from the practical aura of desperation that seeped off the lead rider's frame to the all too real greed in those that chased the figure. If that wasn't enough to explain the unfolding situation the group's blatant mercenary attire paired with their lead's brandishing of a magister's staff certainly was. "Tevinter hunters." The word's left Shok's lips in a tone dry as the air of the desert around them. He had had his far share with these short of people during his time fleeing Seheron, cutthroats and merciless killers that are charged with securing lost magister property. The towering mage clenched his teeth slightly as he recalled some of his less than favorable encounters with hunters, but he was able to push that aside and refocus of the task at hand.

As the group drew closer Shok watched as the apparent leader fire a bolt of lightening upon the figure they were chasing, striking the horse and sending both it and the rider toppling into the dirt. It was moments later that Shok was called into action with the rest of the Breakers by Ovra, who had them encircle the fallen figure and close off any path that the hunters had to it. Ovra gave the order to not engage until told otherwise, this prompted Shok to allow the flames that had been crackling in his fists to die out, though he did not lower his guard in the slightest. Shortly after he left his spot from circle, singling the group that he was breaking formation, and approached the downed figure and their steed. As he kneeled down next to the two Shok scanned over the pair in as great of detail as time permitted.

The horse was worse for wares, it had obviously been rode for quite some time and had been given quite the beating even before being blasted by an arcane bolt. The poor creature laid wheezing and whining on the ground, if it wasn't treated soon it wouldn't have much longer for this world. Shok held some sympathy for the creature, but his concern laid more with its rider who unfortunately wasn't in much better shape.

The rider was a raven haired young man dressed in a stained loose cotton shirt, worn brown pants with a belt where a few pouches loosely hang, and lastly a string with a simple silver ring on it hung around his neck. He was left in a pile on the ground from the fall, luckily it seemed that he was only unconscious. Looking him over Shok noticed that the young man was peppered in a number of injuries; a few burns from the fiery explosion he escaped from, a gash on his head from his fall that was streaming blood, and a few other miscellaneous nics and scrapes he earned from his ordeal. The majority of the young man's wounds were not that grave and could be patched up quickly, that was until Shok noticed his left side.

The young man had a crossbow bolt embedded into his side and was bleeding rather heavily. Shok wasted no time jumping into action, his hands moved almost in a blur as he began removing the man's shirt so he had better access to the wound. "Keep them off of me please, this might take some time..." Shok's flat tone floated back over to his comrades, though his attention never left the young man in front of him. He swiftly began pulling supplies from his bag to help with patching up the young man. Shok knew that he didn't have too much time to tend to the young man given the approaching force, but given the lad's current status he had to do something or the group would be protecting a corpse come the end of this fight.

Krios ran along with the others in the group to circle the downed individual, all the while his shield poised and ready to be used as cover should he need it. The dust and ash covered earth made each step a little bit more laborious, and he began to feel the smallest beads of sweat form on his hairline – though this may have been more due to the building adrenaline than the physical exertion.

“Don’t engage unless ordered. That means you Garlenn!” ordered Ovra, causing Krios to aim a sly grin at his shorter comrade. He knew there was going to be a smart-arsed response before Garlenn even parted his lips.

Focussing back on the horseman he found that it wasn’t a scenario that he particularly liked. For one he preferred a little more cover, especially when up against mages. And secondly, he didn’t like these sorts of tense situations where it was unclear whether or not a battle would take place. He liked things more clear cut. When talking to Tevinters in particular, he always felt like he was about to get a knife in the back and would rather just jump in axe first. Thankfully he wasn’t in charge.

“Hey Aseema, maybe get one of those earth-walls ready? We’re a bit exposed here and I’d rather not take one of those lightning sparks to the face.” Krios suggested, looking over his shoulder towards the petite Dalish elf.

As the image drew closer, it all became clear what was really going on. The elf's eyes widened in disbelief when a bolt of magic struck the supposedly suspicious stranger coming their way. Aseema's first instinct was to run away. Might not be wise to dally too long lest they get caught in the stampede. And anything involving an angry tevinter mage is definitely bad news to anyone, that even she herself wouldn't take risk for.

Aseema was ready to sprint at the opposite direction when Ovra called out for them to move, realizing that she actually meant running directly towards the obvious danger. "Really?" Everyone else was on guard, as they immediately hurried towards the injured stranger. This wasnt entirely part of the plan, and unlike their previous encounters they had the choice to ignore it, but of course she should've figured this would happen. Seems like everyone else was focused on dealing with this little off course, but although she wasnt entirely a fan of the descision, she greatly trusts Ovra's instincts more than anyone's even herself. Plus if that stranger is worth being chased by a group of hunters, they might at least get some benefit out of it. Admittedly though she is rather curious to know about it.

As she caught up on the group, she could see the pursuers are drawing dangerously near. Aseema looked down at the injured fellow, and to Shok, hearing Krios suggestion shegiving them an assuring smile. "That's just what I thought." She wasnt sure if this would be "engaging" enough for the other party, none the less it was the only way that could buy them some time. Slamming her staff on the sandy surface she summons a wall of stone around them, just enough to keep them from quickly going through or to shield them from any more attacks. She would hold that position as long as it's deemed necessary, which from the looks it, won't be any longer now. "Better hurry up with that Shok, they're coming at full speed."

“Don’t engage unless ordered. That means you Garlenn!”

Erinya wouldn't engage, ever, without good reason. But what would make a good reason is a whole different thing to her, it could be a sound or the way her foe blinked, it could be the way a cloud cast its shadow or just her finger being itchy. One of her 21 arrows, of Elvish origin, was already drawn with the unknown mage's throat being its target.

"You so much as hint that you're gonna spellcast..." she whispered from her vantage point, standing further back but a bit higher than the rest of her team which was now surrounding the fallen man. His blood was already relieving the parched earth, he wouldn't live long like this yet Shok was already on top of him, regardless of their little standoff in the middle of nowhere. He trusted them, every single one of them, with his life and Erinya wouldn't be the one to fail him. After all, they had been through way worse. They might be mercenaries and their little band of misfits might not exactly look like battle hardened veterans but they were more than skilled enough, that was certain. And there was trust between them, beyond all differences, there was trust.

She'd be able to take out the mage and maybe one or two of the rest if it came to that before her fellow comrades got in close quarters combat.

"Ma hal, ghilana mir din'an!" ^* she yelled in Elvish, counting on Aseema and Eirny to let the others know and quietly pick their targets. After all, Erinya recognised the fact that the mage carried Tevinter insignia and the Imperium was infamous for not being accepting towards Elves and pretty much everyone without magical talent or noble origin.

She controlled her breathing and focused on the mage, she knew that the rest of the Oathbreakers would be more than capable of handling these foes.

^{*"I'll guide the mage to death!"}

It was Harvest Night, and the usual crowd had gathered into the Katar household. Twenty bodies crammed into the modest dwelling, a bigger crowd than usual on account of the storm that raged outside.

Javus ever faithful was filling the role of storyteller. Long gray hair falling in clustered bunches down to the small of his back, shadows produced by flickering candlelight playing off of brown wrinkled skin with every gesticulation. The others clustered around the low table sipped their drinks and listened. Some of the elders whispering amongst themselves as the children listened to every melded word. At the far side of the table a young man smiled as he listened to an all too familiar tale.

“And so to rescue the fair maiden, Quirinus ventured deep beneath the ground. Far below even the deepest tunnels of the dwarves. When he was about to give up and turn around he found a great door sealed by powers long since gone.”

The adults still listening nodded amongst themselves as they sipped at their drinks They had all spent what felt like a lifetime listening to Javus stories, as their parents had before them.

Peering across the table Javus’ eye fell upon the young man seated at the opposite end. The baby of the Katar family despite being much a man himself. Black hair and a caramel complexion, he could of been a younger version of the elder storyteller. Javus smiled as their eyes met propping his arms upon the table to more easily peer through the dark. “And do you know what Quirinus found when he opened that door Anto?” Antoridus was always Anto, as such was the way of life.

The young man pretend to think about for the benefit of the children whose attention was now focused upon him. “If I recall correctly was it not the maiden guarded by a great and terrible dragon.”

The children gasped as Javus nodded his head in solemn agreement. “And so steadying himself with a great breath and drawing his small blade, Quirinus charged.”

It was at that time almost upon cue that a few women appeared bringing with them the smell of a freshly cooked meal. Much to the complaints of the children, the story was put away for the moment as the meal was attended to. Before Anto could touch the bowl of scrounged up meat and vegetables, a voice called out to him.

“It’s time to go.” He turned his attention towards the sound. There suddenly sitting next to him was a small child bathed in pulsating white, yet somehow looking more clear than the rest. She looked up at him expectantly with a look of pity upon her face.

“But the story isn’t even done yet.” Anto began to protest as the girl reached out her hand and touched him. And in an instant he could feel it all again, the pain in his side, the throbbing of his head. The dwelling around beginning to disappear beyond the light.

“You promised Anto.”

The dream was already gone. A sigh. “I know.”

Instinctively he spat out the dirt that had lodged itself into his mouth during the fall. The pain raced back into his body nestling into his chest before radiating outward through his extremities. Groaning he forced his eyes open, vision blurred with dust and blood. A figure knelt above him though he couldn't make out the full details. A hand tried to reach up to grasp at it, but he couldn't find the strength.

“Are you the Maker?”

---

Ovra watched in silent anticipation as the Tevinter hunting party grew closer. The others moving in around her getting into position. Feeling the easy presence of Krios and the fevered intensity of Krios naturally as the other two more physically members of the group. In here periphery she watched as Erinya, Eirny, and Aseema take up their own positions. She heard Erinya’s call and though admittedly her Elvish wasn’t the best since her studying days, she understood the gist of it.

“Hey Eirny?” Ovra called out without ever turning her head back to look at the young spirit healer keeping her eyes focused on the approaching riders. “On my signal do you mind giving our friends a little bit of headache?”

The ground beneath her feet rumbled as walls of packed blighted earth rose around them. While Ovra had her doubts about how well the cover would do against another one of those fireballs, it would at least give them some cover from the crossbows if things came to that. Taking a deep breath and crossing her arms about her chest, the dwarf waited for the Tevinter party to draw close tapping her foot in a steady beat.

As they rode up the hunters slowly formed a protective positioning around the mage who took the center of the formation and with a flick of her hand made part of the stone wall bend inward opening upward like a door, so that they could see the group face to face. The terrible crunch noise following as earth moved forward against earth.

“Isn’t that better?” The woman spoke still seated atop of her horse easily clutching her staff in one hand, her ebony and gold robes flowing easily in the wind. “Now what do we have here?”

“An opportunity for business.” Ovra explained with a brilliant flash of white teeth. “ A fallen rider for some easy coin.”

The mage chuckled as she looked down at Ovra. “Dweomer, what gives you the impression that you can interrupt our business.”

Ovra smirked. “Cause it’s our business now.” She countered gesturing to the rest of the Breakers. “And if you don’t wel.... We could just kill you.”

Instantly she could feel crossbows began to rise at point themselves at her. The woman sighed putting a hand up to halt her men. “Calm down. Calm down. There is no need for more bloodshed just yet.” She give a small emotionless smile towards Ovra as she ruffled through a pouch at her side, producing five gold pieces held aloft between each of her fingers. “Will this suffice?”

“Just five?” Ovra countered with a snort. Ovra was a patient woman in many regards, but if there was one thing that she detested it was people treating her like an idiot. “What do you takes us for? Fools?”

“I take you for those who do not wish to be slaughtered like the rats they are.” The mage replied her voice as cold as the frostbacks in the evening, a spark of electricity crackling to life across the black of her staff.

“Twenty.” Ovra replied with a shrug.

The mage laughed. “Do you want to die Dweomer?”

“No.” Ovra stated with her biggest smile yet. “But, obviously you do.”

And with a flash of movement the dwarf drew and released her axe from her hand the blade slamming into the woman’s staff jerking it out of her hand. Hopefully providing enough of a distraction for Erinya to get her shot in. Immediately, she dove to the ground to avoid the inevitable response of crossbow bolts that would follow yelling as she did.

Garlenn did something he hardly ever did, and that was keeping his mouth shut while Ovra spoke to the Tevinter dogs. Partly it was because he was curious on what they had to say, and to contrast, partly it was because he'd rather be killing them than chatting with them.

But the main reason was he loved seeing Ovra take charge. Got his blood pumping and his axe erect and at the ready! Among other things.

In fact so amused at the spectacle of Ovra arguing with the mage that he almost hesitated when it was time to move.

The staff flew out of the mages hands, and Garlenn decided it was indeed Eirny's turn to make a difference. Instead, he choose to focus on weeding out the weaker links since they seemed to be all sorts of confused. Then again, he couldn't exactly reach them with his axe, which was why he always had a throwing knife handy.

It also worked wonders with reaching people riding on horseback. He didn't shy from killing horses, but nor was he particularly fond of it either, which was usually the best his axe could do.

With a subtle movement of his stout form and a dexterous flick of his wrist, his throwing knife spun out of his hand. The hilt bloomed upon the lightly armored breast of one of the outriders that had led the Tevinters in a role that probably served as scout. Too bad he didn't have as large of a breast plate as the others, and he began to cough and sputter, limply falling off his horse which in turn began to stamp about.

"Ooooo, heart gave out," Garlenn said, shaking his head. "Tsk tsk tsk."

"One headache, coming right up!" she quickly called back in response to Ovra's request. Eirny let the thought of the paralysis glyph drop from her mind and replaced it instead with a shockwave that would give the group a few moments to gain an advantage. The downside: she would need to move closer to the action.

She barely spared any attention to the exchange that occurred. Nearly all of her cognitive faculties were focused on the blast she needed to expend at a moment's notice. A flicker of movement caught her periphery as crossbows raised. She could tell that negotiations were ongoing and perhaps not quite to anyone's liking. The sound of Ovra's voice continued followed by that of another woman. She heard someone laugh, then a flash from Ovra. This was her moment to get closer.

As Ovra moved to throw her axe at the caster, Eirny sprung forward as quickly as she could in an attempt to reach their foes. When Ovra dropped to the ground and gave the signal, Garlenn bought her a few more moments of distraction when he got a solid hit on another rider. Only a split second gained, she stopped running, the momentum carrying her into a slide forward as she let loose her stunning wave that was meant to disorient the minds of her enemies.

Arms outstretched with staff in hand, she saw the wave wash over the five closest: four in hunter's garb and the mage woman. The last hunter in the back appeared to be untouched. It startled a few of the horses themselves, and the one without a rider turned now to flee. She hoped it was enough to buy the rest of the Breakers time to move as she raised her staff to attack the farthest back rider; simultaneously, the figure appeared to be taking aim at Eirny.

Erinya knew that the element of surprise played a huge role when it came to close quarters combat. Much less blood was shed of those that attacked first than of those who had to adjust to a sudden offensive. And she had been ready to send the mage to her gods before Ovra even opened her mouth therefore when she cleverly unarmed her with her axe, she didn't even blink twice.

She had her whole team in front of her, all of them trusting her enough to turn their backs to her arrows. Fools, she would often call them in her head yet on the other hand, she had never shared the fact that each and every time her adrenaline started flowing, she had the urge to start blindly shooting off arrows, having to restrain her bloodlust and her thoughts. Hell, sometimes she had to take a moment longer because she wasn't certain that she would shoot the enemy instead of a comrade.

She had been like that since-
Since when?... Something happened some time ago, I lost something didn't I?... I can't remember what. she thought and suddenly she wasn't in the middle of the Silent Plains anymore. She was back to the Anderfels, talking to her long-dead teacher, about the art of marksmanship.

"Ishanni, what separates a great marksman from a legendary one?" he asked as he fixed her grip on the bow. She had no answer for him and honestly, he wasn't expecting one. "It is how many steps ahead he -or she in our case- can predict. Most use a bow in order not to risk melee, be it due to a lack of skill or confidence but the bow isn't as simple as that if you want to bet your life on it, day after day. When you shoot your arrow, witch-born, you need to have already figured out where your next will land and under what circumstances. That's how you become a legendary marksman. Everyone can become a great archer but so few can win a battle before it even starts. You think you can do that, little one?"

She paused for a long moment before locking eyes with him. "I'm gonna do better than that." she simply said before unleashing her arrow and her conscience drawing her back to the battlefield.

Ovra was diving for cover, wanting to avoid the bolts which undoubtedly the riders would send after her. Eirny was also making her move, her magic disorienting most of them for the shortest of moments yet the young Elf hadn't accounted for the last rider who would have clear view of her.

She had the mage in her sights, arrow drawn and ready to pierce her soft-looking skin without any remorse. She had taken aim, the woman's throat would do the trick, she didn't want to risk any sort of last-breath spellcasting. With Ovra having already given her a short window to act on, Erinya had the chance to end this encounter in their favor as that mage was both the leader of that band and its most dangerous member.

There was no wind to account for, no breath of air had taken the dust the fallen staff raised, one direction or another. Her arrow would travel to its goal within a fraction of a second, unobstructed. The mage had made a deadly mistake, being so close to potential enemies without any preparations. Her pride caused her death.

Her fingers held the arrow firmly and steadily, bows demanded finesse unlike crossbows. She had done this a million times before and she would probably do it a million more.

It took less time for the arrow to fly than a heartbeat. She saw it pierce the right side of her pale neck and throw her off balance towards the left, giving Eirny half a second more to protect herself against the last rider and his crossbow as her falling body would act as cover. It would be all the Elf needed, hopefully.

Her gaze was still fixed on the mage's eyes though, filling with shock, her mind still hadn't registered what had happened yet her neck was already painted crimson before she would even touch the barren ground. She would be dead within seconds.

"Dareth shiral." she whispered and pulled another arrow from her quiver. The battle was over, in their favour. All that was left, was making clear that the day was theirs, to the rest of the riders.

---

^{*"Safe journey."}

The situation was escalating quickly to say the least, then again peaceful negotiations were never this small group of misfits' forte. As his comrades readied the battle field; brandishing their blades, lining up their arrows, and even raising stone walls in defense, Shok's attention was fully engrossed with his new patient. The Tal-Vashoth had since ripped the young man's shirt off and had turned him onto his side in order to examine the wound better. "Severe blood loss, possible broken ribs, no sign of current infection..." Shok rattled off to himself as he began to clean the site with a view of the elixirs he had pulled from his satchel.

Shok sensed that the impending battle was only drawing closer and closer as he felt the tension build in the air, Ovra's and the magister's words were both filled to the brim with venom as they had their exchange. Shok's hands moved in a blur as they danced between the young man's body and his own little assortment of remedies. "The bolt hasn't punctured any vital organs. Extraction should be possible-" Shok's self monologue was cut short with the elegant exclamation from his fearless leader that truly set off the powder keg that had been brewing between the two groups.

A battle field is less than the ideal place to try and treat the wounded, but in his current line of work Shok had found that in many cases there was no other time to provide aid seeing as the patient may not make it to the end of the fight. The heat of battle was always intense, lives were wiped from this plain in the matter of moments, and this one was no different. As Shok continued to prep his patient he listened to the once high and mighty magister gurgle on her own blood and fall off of her mount, the final breaths of a severely over paid mercenary as he made the futile attempt to pull a dagger from his own heart, and the panic that flooded over the mercenary band's horses as a wave of mystic energy was washed over them. Despite all of this chaos Shok never faltered in his work, well until his patient woke up.

Shok had to admit that the question took him a bit off guard, he had been called everything from a simple freak to an otherworldly abomination, but never had he been called the Maker. Luckily though he was able to regain himself and focus on the situation. "Hallucinations, possibly do to the combination of blood loss and head injury." He said as he moved his hand to the actual bolt stuck in the man's side. Shok paused for a moment and he looked down to the young man who was weakly reaching up to him. "I am sorry, but no I am not your Maker. Now please hold still." With that Shok pulled the bolt from the young man's side and quickly replaced with layers of tight bandaging. "Deep breaths should help with the pain..." Shok added, knowing that a wave of pain had just washed over the young man.

Before he could provide any more aid Shok noticed a blur race pass his ear. It took him a few moments to realize that it was a crossbow bolt that had just narrowly missed his head. "Bothersome..." Shok said, the annoyance almost visible in his words, as he turned his head to find the mercenary that had just attempted to make his head a pincushion. Shok sneered slightly as he outstretched his hand and frost began to resonate from his fingers, moments later a spike of ice was launched from the mage's palm and sent sailing across the battlefield. The mercenary was in the mists of reloading his crossbow when the shard of ice embedded itself into his chest, piercing straight through his right lung. He gasped and gurgled in pain as he fell from his mount, this would not be a slow death for him. Shok watched with an expression twice as cold as the frost on his hands as the man squirmed on the floor before he looked back to his patient. "Where was I..."

Aseema was standing a close distance just enough to witness what was going on in the negotiations. If you even call it that. She knew right away that this would end badly, since obviously they're not the best in handling things diplomatically. There are times she wished they would make an exception on prying the more intimidating crowd, chances are things get rather ugly in an instant if they do. And definitely Aseema wouldn't want to mess with people the likes of that mage, tevinter or otherwise.

Yet true enough, the danger would be more or less no different from delving into a cursed ruin, and ending up waking a couple of vengeful souls out for mortal blood but as long as she was fast enough to run away from it it makes all the difference.

And just like that, things went downhill. While the rest engaged in battle, Aseema was still watching the wall. Once this goes down they're all screwed. It seems like the tide of battle sooner turned to their favor, when an arrow pierced the mage's neck in a glint of speed. Erinya already took the shot. She finds her strange, between the line of fascination and unease, but she admits she does know how to masterfully wield a bow. It's not only an elf thing after all.

"Time to root out the rest of them." she mused, going further away from her position, almost next to Garlenn, close enough to the battle field. One of them tried to make a run for it.

"No you will not." In an instant the ground shakes below him, next thing he knew he was encased in solid earth, from head to the neck. They wouldn't want to risk him calling for reinforcement now would they?

She did the same to the others within her reach, she cocooned another one who was aiming slightly next to her direction, Eiryn specifically. Aseema was contented enough to leave them immobile and would just expect her comrades to do the bidding. She had dealt enough killing for one day.