<strong>Mathius Vairo<br/>Woodlands<br/>North of Ostagar</strong><br/><br/>"Fuck the blight. Fuck the damned Wardens! Argh!" Mathius cringed in contained rage, as his hand gripped at the laceration on his thigh. A half inch or so deep, and several across. It wasn't fatal or crippling, but it was enough to hamper walking and make the attempted trek out of the woodlands north of Ostagar diffcult. Pausing for a moment, he leaned himself up against a tree with quickened and relieved breath at taking some pressure off of his leg. The wound was suffered due to a failed parry attempt on his own part, another lesson to learn not to let his guard down even if his opponent was fool enough to leave their neck completely open. Grace did her part of slitting the darkspawn's throat, but at the cost of a injured leg.<br/><br/>His mind went back, flashes of the night before... so much death. Mathius had heard the stories of the blights and the darkspawn of course, and had even faced some genlocks prior to his joining. But none of it compared to the horde, and he wasn't even involved in the main battle. He would have been dead by now if not for Bor pulling him out of the tower. How many of them had he killed? Twenty? Thirty? He couldn't remember, all he could remember was that no matter how many of the darkspawn fell, more came. A never ending wave of darkness washing over the land.<br/><br/>But they escaped the tower with their lives, barely, and fled north... as best he could tell. The party were driven apart by an ambush. He went east... or it may have been west, fuck he couldn't remember. Everything happened so fast, Mathius could remember contesting Bor's command however. What was the point in splitting up and just making themselves easy target for the darkspawn bands that were roaming farther away from the horde? What truly puzzled him is why Bor was the one to go north, while the rest went other directions. Alistair was as sure as dead after going back south, straight into the mouth of the 'spawn, while Mathius and that Denerim girl, Eluv'yan led them off in separate directions... that bastard.<br/><br/>Sudden rage began to boil in his eyes. That son of a bitch had the rest of them lead off the darkspawn so he could escape to the north! That had to be the reason behind it. The Antivan had been walking and searching for hours for this supposed ruin and seen nothing of the sort. But then again, he wasn't sure at all where he was. His sense of direction in this backwards country was completely disoriented thanks to his wound and the confusion of the prior night. Everywhere he went it looked the same, the only thing he'd even seen of any unique quality was the corpse of a soldier a few miles back from his current position. The body was mangled, and it looked like he'd died bleeding out from wounds and not by any darkspawn close by. So Mathius took the time to take what supplies he could from the man, after jestingly thanking the corpse for his help. He made sure to wrap his wound by tearing a piece of the soldiers undertunic and fastening it tightly to stop the bleeding.<br/><br/>The dead leaves cracked under his boot heal as he began walking again, gingerly on his leg. Feelings of helplessness began to set in as he looked around  completely lost. The density of the trees were impairing his view of the sun, but he thought he was going in the right direction for the time being. "I swear if I get out of this place, I'm never turning back. Let Bor and the rest deal with this sh-," His last word slurred off, as the sound of yelling in the distance drew his attention. It was hard to tell this far away, but he thought it sounded something like Bor's voice. It couldn't have been more than a half mile away. A slight grin shot across his face and he began to walk in the direction of the voice he heard, but then paused. It sounded like whoever it was may have been under attack... and Mathius felt confident it was Bor. He had to pause and ask himself... were these "comrades" who he'd only known for a few days worth his life? Did he owe anything to the group that forced him into this?<br/><br/>Blonde, scraggly hair fell down his face as he shook it side to side. "Fuck..." He muttered frustratedly and began towards Bor's voice, towards probable death. A rhythmic, yet disjointed beat slowly built up as his boots stomped upon the ground faster and faster. Still gimping, he brought himself to a half jog following the sound of steel clanging together, and more battle cries until he was upon the fight. It was Bor, facing down a small group of hurlocks. Mathius paused for a moment to catch his breath at the treeline and drew both of his short swords. They sung beautifully as they unsheathed, as always, and he rushed into the fight. Every one of the hurlocks were busy giving Bor all the attention, and Mathius took the opportunity to rush one of the ones standing in the back. Only at the last second did the dim witted beast hear Mathius's heavy boots stomping on the ground and turned about face to have two swords plunged into its gut. In doing so he drew the attention of another of the beasts as it swung a heavy overhead slash that Mathius sidestepped with a grunt, and then went into a sparring match with the fiend.