The First Mission (Sev, Past)

It was not correct to say Sévere was a "scout," that would suggest his role in this was to learn the lay of the land and find out the situation before Inquisition forces proper entered the area. He would make a poor scout adorned in his heavy armour and with the tremendous axe worn over his back. Even the size of his helmet made for poor scout work, it was hard to be discreet when wearing one of the typical Orlesian helms of a Chevalier.

Metal boots clinked against the path, blue eyes watching from behind the red helm. "Freemen of the Dales. Base deserters but make no mistake, they are trained soldiers. Hate them for their cowardice but do not underestimate them." Sévere's accent was distinctly Eastern Orlesian, not so thick as what one might find in Val Royeaux, tempered under the shadow of the Frostback Mountain and those that passed through. "The Venatori and Red Templars no doubt. Shades of the Fade. The Fereldons have a charming expression for a place like this." he let it hang in the air for a moment while some of the others took an interest. "A target rich environment." It earned a little chuckle from some, if only because it broke the tension of the moment.

"Have you been here before Ashlya?" Though the masked helmet never changed its expression, there was a certain genuine curiosity carried in his voice. He could only imagine a Dalish Elf might feel some connection to the place, though the Exalted March against the Dales was not a recent event, what people did not dream of returning to their homeland? Even if it was just something that played in the back of the mind or the base of the heart during a sleepless night with a wandering mind.

It was perhaps a good thing that Sévere was wearing the Orlesian helmet that concealed his face entirely, when the woman began her little speech on the surrounding area one eyebrow popped into a raised position and held the look until she finished. "Easy now...I was raised under the shadow of the Frostback, what was once my home is not so far East of here. I know its history well." If nothing else he was not uneducated, for all the time he spent knee deep in the corpses of his enemies while hacking others into gruesome chunks he knew how to read and they stocked the Skyhold library well.

"Whatever the reason for the Exalted March, this land was offered to the Elves by Andraste Most Holy. Some of the shemlem remember this." Sévere did not speak Elvish but he had spent enough time among them to learn some of their words, especially the ones that had been directed towards him. Anything further on the matter came to a halt however, the sound of a snapping twig in the distance. Many in the party looked to the source of the disturbance, a deer perhaps? Better to be safe. Sure enough caution had been the wiser approach. An arrow sailed out from behind a tree line, followed by a volley of others. A Freeman of the Dales in a heavy suit of armour emerged from the thick of it, sword slamming against his tower shield. Others emerged on his flank.

The Reaver drew up his great axe and prepared, a gauntlet hand reaching for his grappling chain next. They were not in ambush positions, just a patrol they had come upon. "To think we were almost bored." offered Sévere through his metal faceplate. His body tenses up in preparation for the fight to come, arrows and bolts were flying to and fro now. A lightning spell arced in their direction and the human in red plate moved forward. Metal boots crushed twig and leaf and he made a break for the enemy but he stopped at the half way mark before launching his chain. It hurled through the air with lethal intent, scoring its mark in the shoulder of a lightly armoured foeman. With a rough jerk of his arm the Orlesian Chevalier turned Reaber pulled his quarry close, close enough to ram his helmet to the man's nose, a steak of blood marked the path of movement as the man went down hard on the floor. Sévere's axe followed down, driving deep into his chest and shattering everything from breastplate to ribs.

Another came at him with a sword held high, Breaker Desjardins moved in close so he shoulder came under the swing. The plated shoulder drove into the man's stomach and with a follow up strike of his hilt Sévere sent him reeling, arcing around heavily the Agent of the Inquisition brought his axe about with one great swing and lopped off the top of his attacks head, brain matter and leather went flying before the corpse dropped to the floor with a spasm. Plenty more to go.