Though the hurlock was all that Talfryn could see, he couldn't afford to keep his eyes on it -- the noise it emitted as the arrows found the narrow gaps between plate was what he assumed to be pain, and that was indication enough that he only needed to focus on the stealthy assassin. While its body was invisible to his eye, its movements were not nearly as well disguised as it thought. They stood upon sandy shore now, not solid ground, and the knight turned his attentions to the shifting beach rather than looking straight ahead. Footprints remained packed into the top layer of wet sand, revealing his opponent.
The knight took this opportunity to strike while the shriek thought it was concealed, raising his shield as a battering ram, putting his full weight behind it. With a shrill cry, the beast tumbled backwards into the water. It was a piercing tone, meant to be bone-chilling, but Talfryn shook his head to clear the effect and persisted in his assault on the fallen creature. The shriek rolled back to its feet, but it went no further as he brought down his kite shield once again, knocking it back with a broad splash. The lake's water was freezing, though refreshing considering that he was layered in armor and the heat of summer lingered on in the evenings. He brought his sword down neatly in the middle of the darkspawn's torso, pinning it into the shifting sediment and pushing down until it ceased to futilely kick and squirm.
It took a forceful yank to free his blade from the hideous corpse. Talfryn turned back around to survey the rest of his surroundings; the talking hurlock had been successfully felled by Hilda, a few yards away with at least half a dozen fletchings sticking out of its back. He couldn't tell whether it was still alive, but he was quite certain that the Orlesian woman only a few feet away from him wasn't. His heart sank; he admittedly didn't know Lady Reyer well, in spite of having her as a guest in the Teyrna's home and traveling with her for months, but it saddened him that he wouldn't have the opportunity to learn more. Even to her death, one that he thought had come far too soon for someone so young, she remained an utter mystery to him.
As curious as he was to find out if the hurlock had something to say for itself, it felt wrong to simply ignore her prone form. He waved at the skald to check on the darkspawn, while he sheathed his weapon and shouldered his shield to kneel before Vienne's crumpled body. Gently, Talfryn rolled her onto her still bleeding back. With a light touch, he closed the lids over her clouded blue eyes, and silently prayed for her soul to reach the Maker. He didn't know what exchange had gone on between the Warden and her ostensible enemy, but he chose not to think that she had died a traitor or coward. She had made to fight in those brief seconds before being ambushed, and that was enough to convince him that she was still an honorable hero.
Vienne was not a petite woman -- lithe and slender, yes, but long-limbed and quite an armful. Nevertheless, Talfryn managed gather her into his arms with a soft grunt, and cautiously approached Hilda and her target to see if there was any information to be gleaned from it. But the archer was almost too good at her skill; it was already dead, lying face down on the rocks and oozing a thick, black ichor. They would have to clean up these messes later. A battle raged on in the central square, and they couldn't tarry out here in the darkness.