Nothing about today settled well with her nerves. As close as their families were, Rendon Howe always put her on edge. Maybe it was his face. Or that voice. Always made her nervous. An overwhelming sense of dread had filled her nerves the whole day. Choosing to settle those nerves with Darrien, however, helped her mind slip from the events.
It is instinct to grab the blade from under her pillow when her door opens. grip still tight on it’s hilt as she looks over the blood stained elf— the Grey Warden Recruit with Duncan. His words give her no ease keeping her dagger close as she slides out of the covers. She knows how these soldiers think; No opposition. She saw it in Howe’s face when he saw Duncan & the elf. They were a threat to this.
Her voice is a low growl, but it’s as quiet as she can make it. A nod towards her armor rack. A hand reaching out to shush her mabari while she put the dagger next to Darrien. It doesn’t take her long to put her armor on, used to putting it on daily. Bow and arrows on her back. A shield on one arm and long sword in her other hand. She looks at the warden recruit, eyes full of focus.
“Darrien, stay here. Hide. Warden, we need to get everyone we can
out and to safety. I want to get all we can to the exit in the storage room.
But first, we find my family.”
That she sleeps with a dagger speaks well of her; to be caught unprepared, even in bed with a lover, would be a mistake a person could only make once. In truth, in coming here, he had expected to impatiently be forced to coddle some noble’s child, some shem’len unused to the ways of the world, some human bound to slow him down. It is not the case, and he is glad of it. She is out of the bed, getting dressed, and he shifts -- he does not press his back to the door, lest someone get any funny ideas about simply shooting through it, or hacking through it, and in turn, through him, but he keeps an ear attuned to the sounds the house...or rather, the lack of sound.
These soldiers are efficient; they move on orders, they move with purpose. He has little doubt about their intentions, and so when the woman speaks to him, he nods once. Good. Level-headed, even in danger.
“Your family will take priority; after that, we should do a sweep of the lower levels. Servants’ quarters.” If he could save any of the elves he had seen moving about this place, he would do so; it was not their fault, and that they should be caught in the middle of this carnage purely because of where they were forced to work --- it makes his blood boil. They are not Dalish, but they do not deserve this. No one deserves this.
He moves aside from the door, and tips his head towards it.
“You will lead. You know your home better than I.”
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