The battle was fierce; the intensity of it all, the raw emotion and desperation, and the overwhelming brutality was nothing that Farsight could have prepared himself for.  Having come too late, he was actually thankful for this fact; if he had been here on time, he'd likely be dead now.  And then who would warn his tribe of the dangers they would soon face?<br/><br/>Sadly enough, he found himself being pushed in a different direction when the soldiers realized they had lost and began fleeing the battlefield (many being cut down despite their best efforts). Instead, the elf now found himself carefully skulking his way through the Korcari Wilds, his steps disturbingly light, disturbing hardly anything at all.<br/><br/>His faithful wolf, Belda, followed along at his side, occasionally pausing to sniff curiously at the ground, and twitching every time they heard a distant twig snap. The beast was on high alert, realizing on some level--perhaps due to Farsight's own anxiety-- that they were in a dangerous predicament.<br/><br/>As things stand, he's not entirely sure where he is. This is the farthest he's traveled out into the world. He knows he is close to Ostagar, and can tell that these woods are deep, and while comfortable here, he knows he's going to have to leave them eventually...perhaps find some village or something where he can gain geographical bearings.<br/><br/>Even better would be if he could find of those  Shem that fled; some of them had to survive. It was statistically impossible for them to all be dead. It'd be good luck for him if he found one or more...safer, and he'd have people that could help him figure out just where in the hell he was.<br/><br/>And as it turns out, he did. He found a few of them--four, by the sounds of it-- arguing or fighting about something. Carefully tiptoeing along, avoiding branches and fallen leaves, he skulked his way closer to the group. He held his bow in his right hand, and an arrow in the left; the bow was not ready to be fired, but should they prove to be hostile, he could be firing off a shot in  less than two seconds.<br/><br/><em>So what shall we do, mage?</em>was the only thing he clearly heard; on his approach he could have sworn he heard something about demons and murder and he wasn't quite certain what all of that was all about (Probably Darkspawn, he figures). "Survivors?" He calls out, eyes keeping careful watch over them all. Because of the way his cloak's hood shadows his face and covers his head, nobody should be able to see the telltale ears or the markings on his face that would mark him as a Dalish Elf; and his voice? He certainly sounds like a human, probably some rough and tumble mountain man, or maybe even a Chasind, considering their location...