Knowing Krem

At First Glance

The Iron Bull's Chargers were well renowned for their skirmish and subterfuge tactics. And so were your outfit. Although your boys were more cutthroat than anything else, there was something about The Iron Bull's second. The way he carried his war hammer, dawning armor of The Tevinter Imperium. One Tal Vashoth with a Vint to boot. Come to think from a distance, the whole outfit of theirs were full of characters. Nothing your boys haven't seen before. You had the numbers anyway. A full out assault would be preferable you thought. The odds had to be at least three to one. No band could withstand such a disadvantage. Time to rally the men.

"Banners at the ready!" You Command.

The men begin mustering at the top of the hill. The Chargers has definitely taken notice, but were showing no sign of retreat. Waiting patiently for your arrival.

"Forward advance!".

As your boys advance in an orderly fashion, you can't help but wonder what chance the Chargers could possibly believe they have against your numbers. Your men begin drawing ever closer until The Chargers slam headstrong into their ranks. Your boys were holding just fine until the Bull and His lieutenant began tearing your line asunder. Between the Bull's axe and his second's hammer, your men's morale began to waiver.

"This cannot be!", you stammer

"Captain, we need to fall back!".

You pondered the request of your second for only a moments time. No you thought, we have never given ground to the enemy. Damn it, the red Lyrium I'm promised would be more than worth its weight in any coin. We have come to far.

"Ravagers on me!" You bellow,

Your men follow in hot pursuit as you charge on horseback, eager to crush the The Bull's Chargers. The Iron Bull was out of reach, his second however was standing right before you.

"You impudent boy!" You shouted enraged.

As soon as your lance reached him, his hammer was already in motion. He knocks you off your horse as your lance broke off into his shoulder. Winded, you begin to stand once more drawing your sword from its sheath.

"Poncy boy, you couldn't even finish the job!" You mock,
"Not as tall as you looked." The lieutenant teased,

You had a Napoleon complex so this insult hit a little too close to home. Eyeing the warrior in Tevinter Clad, you notice he carries no shield. Sacrificing defense for the sake of unstoppable offense. All I need is for him to miss and he's done for you think to yourself. After all, he only has one good shoulder left. Rushing forward, as he swings in a downward motion you sidestep and lunge. Your sword connects to his good shoulder, and he drops his hammer in defeat. His helmet dropping to the muddied ground as he collapses on one knee. The fighting around the two of you continues as you walk toward the lieutenant, noticing the features of the mysterious warrior. Short red hair, a chiseled jawline, green eyes, maybe grey you couldn't be sure. Most strikingly, three freckles placed upon the corner of his chin. Although feminine in terms of facial features, he was quite the catch. Then the thought hit you. This is no boy. But a girl? No, he just has feminine qualities. You questioned which thought made more sense. Whatever the case may be, the two of you were in no tavern.
This was war, not a place to find another for company's sake. You had already begun to hear the whispers of what little Red Lyrium you carried with you. The promises it made you... No, not now. Now was the time for clear thought and execution.

"Is this all the Inquisition has to offer?", you mock
"I know, I'm disappointed too,"

He can't be serious. He's about to die and this kids talking shit? Unbelievable. You raise your sword slowly, allowing the dread to sink into the Charger's second, until you heard footsteps rushing behind you.

"Who-?" You manage to blurt out.

The axe of The Iron Bull makes a connection with your sword, only cushioning the force of the brute before you. The force of the strike delivered, caused your own sword to bite back into you. Pulling the swords edge away from your fresh wound, The Iron Bull comes forth before you have time to recover. Swinging in a violent fury, your sword soon begins to suffer small cracks within its very foundation. Eventually giving in to the last swing that would slash a shallow wound into your chest. Flying backwards into the mud, your men surrender immediately. Distraught that their commander could be over taken so easily. Your wounds being light, still purchased much blood from you. Clutching your Red Lyrium idol as you fade into unconsciousness, you wonder what will become of your precious Lyrium.