The Brecilians – Two Weeks after landfall

Chirping birds met Vexilarius Meran's ears as he crept a long piece of steel up to his eye. Light hitting a small circle on it's top met a large series of mirrors, projecting an image into his eye. Two long-eared individuals pointing bows at a trio of scared-looking humans wearing what appeared to be Feudal clothing. Meran tapped the trigger guard expectantly, crosshairs bouncing over one of the assailants. Sergeant Wilux's form moved deftly behind a tree, making no noise even to the expert ears of the Dalish below. 12th Squad had been hunting this group for days to relay intelligence on them back to the Colonel. He was a weird sort after finding that scroll, and had nearly been tossed out of a meeting with the Captain a day prior to the insanity's beginning. But Meran didn't care about that. All he cared about was where several units of concentrated heat and light would go in the next few seconds. Wilux spun about, three other riflemen popping from the bushes.

"Let them go!" He shouted, raising his pistol. The two huntsmen deftly spun and let loose, their inexperience and anger showing as both cleanly missed. Meran shifted his rifle slightly. Crack!

Across from Meran, another Crack! Resounded, each blast ripping a small, cauterized hole in the abhumans' legs. Both cried out in agony as the guardsmen moved in to capture. Strapping the Abhumans to stretchers with a gag, they marched through the byways of the forests, Cameoline cloaks and robes covering all but their Chest Armor. Meran stalked at the front of the line, over fifty paces ahead, whistling a bird cry to halt every so often. The Beastmen had become less of a nuisance every so often, and one had tried to communicate with the Colonel on the Sixth day they'd been camped. 'Swiftrunner' or so he claimed he was, said that the 'Lady' wished peace. They stopped attacking that day, and only occasionally they were glimpsed. But the Abhumans had become a ever present occurrence in the area. Hunting wildlife and travelling in wooden caravans, they were an object of interest to the Enginseer and newly-freed Psyker – Peltast had asked for the title of Librarian, literally, rather than in the Astartes sense. He would learn all he could of the world rather than wasting time fighting chaos in his mind.

Peltast had noted they kept to a wide pantheon of gods, much to the Priest's chagrin. They had almost come to blows about a course of action until the Colonel told them both to shut up and stay indoors for 24 hours. The Men had taken the disappearance of the Astronomicon with a sense of purposelessness. That was, until they had spotted the Abhumans. Now, Meran's squad was escorting two pieces of precious cargo to the Colonel personally. It was a dangerous duty due to their proximity to both the Werewolves' source, a ruin mentioned by Swiftrunner, and the Elves' camp. It was unknown if the Werewolves would take issue with them capturing two of the elves.

Vexilarius scanned his surroundings from a tree, seeing if anything was following or ahead of them. He spotted a small bit of movement to their front, and raised his scope. A group of humans, alongside a strange horned creature and a ratling on the fat side, were marching through the woods. One was particularly... interesting, to his male faculties. He did a long bird call, a signal of danger. He watched as his group noiselessly moved into observation positions. Wilux motioned for them to set the elves down. The group stopped and began to put their things down. The horned giant stood stoically after getting his things in order with military precision. The others slowly got their things in order and some started sleeping. The sun slowly began to slip out of view, casting the world in an orangish-red hue.

The fat ratling pulled out a tankard and shouted something about women and promptly chugged the entire thing in one go. One of the guardsmen, probably a newer fold-in from the long tour of the Regiment, made a tiny chuckle. The Giant turned in their direction, scanning their direction. Meran rose his rifle and prepared for the worst. The Sergeant approached the soldier and rapped him with the blunt edge of his sword. He let out a bird call, and we prepared to move. Meran jumped and fell a few feet, landing as noiselessly as possible... only something broke it's fall, making a massive shriek.

The Party

"Warden!" Shouted Sten, kicking her in the chest. Elissa Cousland was up in an instant, axes at the ready and scanning the darkness. She heard and felt the pull of darkspawn in her blood. "To arms! Darkspawn in the trees!"

But there was another something there, struggling with them. An instant flash of light and a massive crack came from the bushes where the struggle was taking place. Several others happened a second later. Eleven humans ran from the darkness, some limping, others firing, into the brush as a group of Darkspawn rushed out. Two humans, one with a large stick and the other with a sword and some strange-shaped axe in his other hand bellowed cries, swinging their weapons and letting off cracks from their ends with equal measure. Elissa heard cries of "For Lyra!" and "By the Emperor! Fight back these spawns of Chaos!"

A Cousland needed no further invitation. "CUT THEM APART!" She screamed, rushing into the fray in a berzerking frenzy. Oghren, roused from his stupor, looked at the insanity and let out a chuckle. "Stone! And I thought i'd seen everything." He said, letting out a roar and chopping a monster's head off. As quickly as it had began, it ended. The eleven new arrivals picked over their wounded, surprisingly unscathed despite the madness. Their leader sheathed his weapon and put down his hood. "Damn. Elius, is the Vox up and running?" He asked. Elissa finished bandaging a wound and looked up at the man, his scarred and tired face betraying his otherwise-confident voice.

"Yes, Sergeant!" Shouted the other man, shaking both in body and voice. He handed a black square attached to a cord to the scarred veteran. "Peltast, I need to speak to Rawlsing, right away." He said, paying no heed to the party. The one with the longer stick than the rest came over to her, his face covered in black and green makeup of some sort. Along with his cloak, he was almost invisible in the night. "I apologize for his business, Ma'am." He said, supporting himself with his rifle. A nasty gash along his leg was bandaged securely. "I take no offense. What's he doing?" She asked, looking curiously at the box.

"Oh, that's a communicator, it lets him talk to people a long distance away." Said the Sniper, raising his rifle and slinging it across his back. "As in... with Magic?" She asked, confused. A blonde man walked up next to her, a rather dumb look on his face. "Who are you people, anyways?" He asked, quizzically. The Sniper pointed to the number on his shoulderpad. "We're the last of the people of Lyra, a... Country far to the south. The Blonde man's jaw dropped. "It's so cold down there! By Andraste, it's cold here. How do you survive?" He asked, questioningly.

"Well, you see, we learned to use this thing called-" Meran began, only for the Sergeant to cut him off. "Sorry to interrupt your pleasant explanation, Sniper. Ma'am, I'm Sergeant Wilux, commander of this squad. Do you mind your people coming with us? We're in a part of the world we're unfamiliar with, and all these monsters make it more dangerous each day."

"Um... Allow me to converse with my companions on this matter." She said, motioning for the Blonde to follow. Meran returned to the place where the Elves were at, and saw two bloody trails leading into the woods. This did not bode well.

"They got gigantic flashy sticks! I want me a giant flashy stick! I vote we follow 'em!" Said Oghren, blunt as always. "They certainly seem to have stories to tell." Said Leliana, looking misty-eyed at their Sergeant. Morrigan folded her arms and scoffed. "Some women can't look past sticks and stones, 'tis pitiful. I say we meet these people's leaders. If we're lucky they'll be powerful and we won't need the annoying dalish in our journey." Leliana gave Morrigan a stern look. Alistair raised an eyebrow. "We can't be certain they'll help us at all. And if they decide to dislike us, we could easily be just like the darkspawn. With holes. in. our. HEADS."

Sten walked over to them, having been distant from the group for a short while. "They are soldiers, not warriors like the rest of you. They follow orders and do things without question. If their commanders have a change of heart, Alistair will have been correct." He said. Zevran simply looked at the soldiers and looked back. "I agree with Leliana." He said, simply. Morrigan threw up her hands and somehow made a even scoffier scoff than had ever been scoffed before – atleast, according to Alistair at a later date. Elissa took a look at the men and turned back. "There is no guarantee the Dalish will help either. I believe we should follow them. Get ready to move." She said, marching off to the Sergeant.

"We'll follow you once we're packed. Make arrangements with your commander.

The Camp, Daybreak

Elissa looked at the massive, foreboding entrenchments as she walked through the wooden gateway. Soldiers stood smoking strange white sticks, and some gave her downtrod looks. It was they way most Imperials treated the men of Feudal Worlds, downtrodden and worthless as they were. The Colonel went down the ramparts, a large power sword dangling from his belt as he did so. In lieu of the camouflage he wore on landing, a more fanciful uniform with a Carapace chestpiece and a higher-tier tunic replaced the cameoline and other field gear. He strode up to the Sergeant with purpose, sticking out his hand and having it shook by the Sergeant. "Welcome back, Guardsman." He said, patting the man on the shoulder. "Break your men out for chow, your sniper support can get back to his wolfpack." He said. As the Guardsmen dismissed themselves to the various tents inside the wood-walled compound, Elissa was formally greeted by the Colonel. "Greetings to you, young lass." He said, letting off a gentle bow.

"I am Colonel Julius Rawlsing, Commander of the Emperor's 82nd Lyran Regiment. I implore your people to come with me, we've much to learn of our whereabouts." He said, pointing to a moderately sized wooden structure down a main avenue of tents. A flag bearing the Regiment's logo was affixed to the top. As they walked, Julius answered several questions. "So what're them big head-poppers your people carry with them, Colonel? Asked Oghren, giddy as he could ever be. "Those are Lasguns, they fire a stream of pure energy into a target using a battery, which stores that energy." He said, taking his laspistol out as an example. "Is it a form of Magic?" Asked Morrigan, perplexed. "Nay, 'Magic' is nonexistant, despite what many people of this land might believe." He said.

"Oh really?" Asked Morrigan. "Explain this." Morrigan's form shifted into that of a bird, and landed on the Colonel's shoulder. By the Emperor...

OMG CLIFFHANGERZZ!1!111!

I seriously wanted to throw in so much innuendo about them carrying huge metal sticks it would've made the chapter suck. So thank me for that. I'm considering several plotlines from here, tell me what you'd like to see in tha reviews.