Her companions moved swiftly, effortlessly cutting their swath through the fray. The sounds of battle carried over them; metallic discord and roaring voices that left Falina afraid, even with Cormac and Shartan at her side. She brandished her daggers awkwardly in her sweating palms, nausea lingering enough in her stomach that her legs felt leaden. Her first step forward was halted, the second just as hesitant. Darkspawn, twenty and dwindling, were creatures of such horror that even she as a dwarf feared their threat. Never before had she respected the Legionnaires so much for holding them at bay in the depths of Orzammar. These creatures- these things prowled and conquered the Thaigs, roaming in the dark unchecked save for a few dwarves who already considered themselves Dead. How could the Legionnaires stand it? How did Nivak and Lythe manage in the Deep Roads for so long, and how was it that as a child Falina -of all people- had managed to find someone to protect her from these wicked monsters?
How had it come to be that she faced them now?
Tears prickled at the back of her eyes, adrenaline picking up and beginning to run through her blood, heating it even as she stood outside of the edge of battle. Something else touched her, foreign and undeniable. It quivered and gathered at the back of her neck, sharpening her focus in a way that left the clash ahead vivid. What seemed a second before a muddled haze, now was laden with crisp detail.
The Darkspawn were drawing closer, swelling around Conlan and Azabeth. From her vantage point, Falina saw Faer casting his spells and Cyril wielding his weapon like he was a reckoning. Jill and Salma were moving of their own accord, avoiding the pulse of the fray... with great purpose toward something.
The dwarf stayed very near to Cormac, ushering Shartan forward as she honed in one one particular Genlock. With his back turned, he wouldn't see her coming; his stocky figure working to aim his bow, thick ghoulish fingers knocking back an arrow aimed for the skirmish ahead. To her untrained eye, it was merely waiting for an opening- fixated on none of her companions in particular.
Falina took great care stepping behind the beast, the heel of each boot coming down as silently as possible. As she drew close, the dwarf realized with great disgust that Darkspawn smelled worse than they looked, forcing her to choke back another tide of sickness. She closed her eyes to draw in one final breath uncontaminated by the foul stench, and then arched her right arm forward. She stabbed, clenching a fist around the hilt of her dagger, indiscriminately striking what mottled flesh was visible to her eyes; the back of the Genlock's neck, the small gap between armored torso and pauldron. It took incredible effort to slide through the flesh and muscle, her heart pounding and head clouded with disbelief. She grunted as she tore her weapon from the beast, black blood spurting like a small geyser. The beast howled as Falina grimaced, kicking downward against it's calves. The Genlock crumpled forward, arrow whipping free from it's fingers. The arrow cut cleanly through the air, mercifully cutting into the back of a Darkspawn ahead, rather than that of an ally.