Conlan looked at the chaos around him and took in a breath to steady himself. It had been almost a year since Ostagar. Some small part of him felt like the horde itself was following him.
He looked up to see templars, and guards in armor ushering people out of the city. Con walked with them, but it felt wrong. He looked toward the people who walked with the group. In their eyes he saw that they believed their doom to be certain.
A knight is the shield of the people. He stands on the precipice, but cannot be swept away.
That tenet of "The Code' as his father had called it came to him quickly. Of course having had to repeat the words daily left the whole thing burned into his memory. But Conlan's father had died following the code.
It didn't matter. Angus Delaine would not have left this city, his home when it was threatened. He wouldn't have run and saved himself when so many people were left behind. He wouldn't have, and he would have expected no less from the boy who would have carried on the families title. Or the title he would have had. But then that was also part of the code; "A Knight is defined by his actions not his title."
Without a second thought, Conlan slipped from the line of refugees, and started making his way through the back allies. He needed to help, he needed to get as many people out. He needed... help. It had been months since he'd last seen either Dee or ALderic, but that wasn't his fault, and if they were still in the city, they would help, that much he was sure of. If not, at least they would be safe. And then he would find his mother and get her past the darkspawn. He would fullfill his fathers amibitions, and make something of himself.
With a quickly whispered prayer to the Maker to grant him speed he set off at a run towards the chantry.