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Why are we stopping?” Maric asked, turning back to Loghain. He shivered with cold, the merciless rain pounding down. Loghain ignored him, and Maric followed his gaze to where Gareth was fighting in the distance. He was far away, but the fire has spread enough that he could still be spotted even through the deluge. Heavily wounded and covered with blood, he had dozens of enemy soldiers surrounding him. His swings were becoming increasingly desperate. Maric knew they should continue running and not waste any opportunity, but Loghain remained still, transfixed by his father’s battle.
Then, through their vision was obscured by smoke and the rushing soldiers, they made out a defiant shout that ended abruptly: Gareth’s final cry.
Tags: loghain maric the stolen throne