The battle was fierce and heated, but short-lived. The Darkspawn were outnumbered man to man, and though many of the Wardens' company were inexperienced, those who were not more than made up for it. Though Conlan's reckless charge attracted some attention from the horde of attackers, many Darkspawn continued their rush towards the bulk of the group, only to be cut down by the defenders or struck down by arrow or magic. All Ferelden might see magic with wariness or outright fear, but there was no denying its power when it was on the right side of a battle.
Ordhan cast a quick glance around him to be certain that those nearby were unharmed. The ground was strewn with foul corpses, watering the earth with their poisoned blood, but as far as he could see none of their company lay among them.
With one exception. His lungs clenched when he realized he could no longer see Conlan. The knight dragged his helmet off, having no patience for the limited visibility its visor offered, and combed the battlefield with his eyes. There--both Lillian and the qunari healer were crouched next to where he lay, prone, on the ground. A flare of anger stirred in his chest, but Ordhan resisted the urge to stride to their side and shout at Conlan for his foolishness, no matter what state the warrior lay in. Conlan was being attended to, and Ordhan would be of no use there.
At the guttering cry of the last felled Darkspawn, a brief hush came over the battlefield, only to be replaced a moment later by the murmur of movement and each companion looking to his or her fellows. Ordhan replaced his shield on his back but kept his blade unsheathed as he continued to take in his surroundings. Jill stood not far away, at the edge of the gathering, lips moving in what were no doubt calming sounds as she stroked her horse's nose. A stranger sat in the saddle, upon the horse. Helm still held under one arm, Ordhan began towards them.