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I sighed and dove back into the fray, taking out a couple of genlocks and a shriek as I made my way towards Cailan.

I briefly looked for my three-templar group, unsurprised not to find them where I'd left them. A group of templars defended them from darkspawn that managed to break through to where they were standing. I spotted Irving and the other mages, conserving mana and concentrating on healing, no longer able to avoid friendly fire if they threw more offensive spells. But it still wasn't going to be enough – despite their obvious skill, the greater numbers of the darkspawn were wearing them down. They were all impressive, the dwarves favouring axes, 0the humans mainly carrying swords, and they fought almost as well as the Grey Wardens I was used to fighting beside. They may be foolish nobles, but that's not all they are.I watched Cailan decapitate a hurlock alpha with his massive great sword, while some nobleman at his back slid his longsword into a vulnerable point in a genlock's armour and kicked the corpse away to keep fighting. The nobles, identifiable in their flashier, though still functional armour, were a sight to behold, cleaving and slashing at darkspawn.Įven knowing Aedan, despite playing the game as often as I had, I had entirely underestimated the military prowess of the Fereldan and dwarven nobility as a whole. The soldiers, illuminated by harsh torchlight, fought like their lives depended on it – which they did, if we were being honest – and they each cut down multiple darkspawn for every man we lost. I left the woods and paused, awestruck, as I watched the battle unfold. My daggers were dripping with darkspawn blood, and I was sure I had splashes across my armour, but I was unharmed. I wended my way back towards our forces when I couldn't find any more emissaries to kill.