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tushanshu_ooc2016-01-17 10:17 pm
Fenris | Dragon Age 2
At first, he thought he was in the Fade. It didn't make very much sense, but neither did this place. People kept changing everywhere Fenris looked - the pointed ears of an elf on this side of the market, the horns of a Qunari on the other. The squares were as busy as the markets in Kirkwall, but if any of the crowd were nobleborn, Fenris couldn't tell. No one but the merchants gave him a second glance, and the merchants all seemed intent on selling him something, despite his lack of coin. It was the sort of attention Hawke might expect, but Fenris wasn't used to friendly smiles free of suspicion.
He found himself missing his more precarious presence in Hightown. At least there, he had a place to retreat to. Six years of living in Danarius's mansion, and he'd only barely made a dent in the wine cellars.
A moment later, Fenris came across a small table in the middle of the market square, with six bottles of Tevinter wine sitting on top of it. He stopped dead, and his face hardened. That was hardly a coincidence - he must be in the Fade, in danger of becoming a desire demon's thrall. He took a step backwards, reaching for the sword on his back.
"Where are you?" he demanded. "Show yourself!"
B) Incoming!
The large creature bearing down on the tram station looked like a dragon. Fenris had only seen one that large once before, and he'd hardly fought it off on his own. He didn't think much of his chances here, either.
Which is why, rather than charging it, Fenris can instead be found trying to get small groups of kedan out of the tram station and safely back down to ground level without drawing the frenzied dragon's attention. Once or twice he helps carry a child, or takes half the weight of someone injured by the attack. It's only when everyone's safe - and when a group of armed Snakes show up to try and drive the dragon off - that Fenris joins the fight.
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"Easy, stranger," she said, circling around so she wasn't coming up behind him, "You are safe here."
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He drew the sword off his back and faced her, eyes hard. "Why am I here?" he asked. "I'm not a mage. I can't imagine possessing me would be quite as much fun. What's the point of this?"
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That wasn't exactly an odd question, but the following did register as quite odd and she paused in her approach, crossing her arms to prevent reaching for her blade on instinct.
"Hell if I know. I can't actually possess people, that would be a demonic power and I'm not sure a demon would care if you were a mage or not." She eyed the rather large sword. "Does your sword have a name?"
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For all of Fenris's unfortunate experience with magic and demons, particularly after meeting Hawke, he didn't know how often demons were straightforward about what they were, and how often they continued a charade without a reason. Both were equally possible, he supposed. He'd been caught out once by a demon knowing full-well what it was.
"If it does, I don't know it," he answered. "If I'm to believe you're not a demon, how do you explain that?"
He nodded towards the six bottles of Tevinter wine, as though he could possibly be referring to anything else.
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She glanced at the wine bottles that the tall stranger indicated, then looked back at him and shrugged.
"The wine," She smiled sheepishly, not entirely certain why wine bottles led the man to believe she was a demon, "is there something special about it?"
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He knew only demons populated the Fade. If she wasn't a demon, then she was a trapped mage, and that was hardly any better.
Then again, no matter what she was, it didn't explain the throngs of people surrounding them. Nor did it explain how tangible and real everything felt.
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B! hope this is okay~
But it tells her at least that the creature has no elemental weakness, so Raine slots into her usual place in a fight, though she's some years rusty at this point. To the rear, then, behind the Snakes and what looks like a Foreigner -- an elf, if her senses aren't tricking her. His mana signature distracts her for a grand total of a second before she's casting again. Permaguard to bolster the less-armored elf, rippling sky-blue hexes overlaying his skin briefly, and photon to shatter bright shards of gold light against and through the creature's wings, and Raine casts over and over, mana swirling around her in circle after brilliant circle until the thing is done.
When it is she lowers her staff to her side, eyes sharp and alert. Surely some will need healing, that creature was a nasty piece of work, but the Snakes don't usually come to her if they can help it, having their own healers and doctors. Instead, Raine looks to the other Foreigner, making her way toward him at a brisk pace. He looks--
He looks like he could be of her mother's blood, though the shape of his face is wrong. It fits with what she noticed about his mana: elven, but shaded differently than she'd expect. Close. Not right. But even so, an ally. "Are you hurt?" she wants to know.
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A mage. A mage on their side, but even so. If Fenris wasn't accustomed to fighting with magically enhanced speed and strength bestowed by Hawke, Anders, and Merrill, he would probably have broken stride. Instead, he took the assistance for what it was, and used it to help bring the giant creature down.
When the struggle ends, Fenris stands back from the Snakes, momentarily at a loss. They're working efficiently together to clean up the mess the fight resulted in, and Fenris doesn't know the first thing about how to help. He doesn't usually stay in the area once a dangerous predator is disposed of. Besides, these men are trained; he'd likely only get in the way.
Then the mage approaches him, and Fenris's demeanour grows decidedly chillier as he turns to look at her. "No," he answers flatly. "I'm fine." After a moment's pause, however, something in his expression softens. "Thank you for your help."
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And yet he softens just as quickly, it seems. Raine takes a moment to study him -- the pale lines of his tattoos, the skeletal structure that's almost as clear a marker of his difference as his ears. Her head tilts to the side a little, though she doesn't relax. She doesn't know what to make of him.
"Of course," she says, finally. "As long as you're all right."
It's possible, of course, he's hiding an injury for some misplaced sense of pride or strength, but something about his demurral makes Raine disinclined to suspect that. "Hm," Raine says, and, "How long have you been in Keeliai?" It couldn't be very long at all, or surely she would have noticed him.
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It's an apology, essentially, or half of one. Fenris didn't miss the way she stiffened. Whether she's anything like the mages he knows remains to be seen.
Which isn't an excuse to avoid proper introductions. She hasn't tried to kill him yet; for Fenris, that might as well be a judge of character. "My apologies," he says, turning to face her properly and bowing his head once. "My name is Fenris."
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She inclines her head in return, to about the same degree Fenris has, assuming them to be equals. "Raine Sage," she says by way of answer. "I run the Healers' Guild, in the Water sector. You handle yourself well in a fight."
Especially given that sword. It's worth noting, given the circumstances of their meeting. There's a point of curiosity, however. "What do you mean, about the magic from your world?" Raine asks. "Is there something wrong with it?"
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"Yes," Fenris says, his tone a little harder. "It attracts demons. Anyone who uses it is at risk of possession, but everyone believes themselves above temptation - especially those who keep slaves to fuel their blood rituals."
It's a lot to accept, he realises, for someone to whom magic has never had a relationship with demons. Perhaps he's being too harsh. The standards for that have changed drastically enough that Fenris is sure he could spend a lifetime trying to reclaim his footing. "I imagine your world is different," he says quietly. "You're fortunate, if so."
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A
Especially since Garrett was pretty sure this wasn't the Fade. It wasn't all shimmery around the edges, and didn't have the blackened castle looming in the distance at all times. Which meant that if Fenris had gotten all slashy, Garrett wouldn't have just woken up.
Oh well. That's what armour was for.
"If you're talking to me, I can think of other ways to be lured out," Garrett told him, the corner of his mouth pulling up high in his fakest way of flirting, because that was the only way either of them could bear these days.
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That might be the problem, some part of him thought.
Whatever it was, Fenris ignored it. "Hawke," he said, some of that relief evident in his voice. He made no move to take his hand back. "How did we get here? The last thing I remember is talking with Varric in the Hanged Man. Unless Merrill's Keeper is more insidious than I realised - "
- why was Hawke here? That was convenient, having him appear right as Fenris would have wanted the help. It should have been impossible to enter the Fade without a mage's help, but there was no shortage of mages in Kirkwall. And if there was one thing Fenris learned from the last time, it was that demons liked to play tricks in the Fade.
Now Fenris took his hand back, though he didn't bother trying to put any more distance between them than that. "Are you real?"
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Then Fenris pulled away (because of course he did, because he made it perfectly clear that it was done), and Hawke caught his breath. He was thankful, a moment later, that at least his gaze hadn't gone anywhere other than Fenris's face.
"I don't know," he said after a moment, bemusedly. "I'm fairly sure I am, though I'd rather you didn't test the theory by poking me with your sword."
Not that one, anyway.
Hawke's upper brain caught up a moment after that, and his expression turned grim. "You think we're in the Fade?"
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"It was emptier than this before," Fenris admitted. There was something else, too - a pervasive sense of life. The Chantry claimed demons couldn't imitate life. In Fenris's limited experience, that was all too true.
"If not the Fade, then where are we?" Fenris gestured towards the wine on the table. "And what are some of Danarius's finest spirits doing here?"
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But this sure was a bottle of Danarius's spirits. One of the bottles Hawke had seen in Fenris's cellar. There was even still dust and cobwebs on it.
"Welcome gift?" Hawke suggested weakly, but when he glanced around it was with a keener eye. Either this wasn't the Fade, or some demon had gotten very, very good at mimicking life. It wasn't that some details were wrong--it was that some details were consistently wrong. It was that the wrong details made sense if one assumed they were right. That wasn't how the Fade worked. Or dreams.
But there was one thing here that was consistent to the dreams Hawke had been having lately, and that thing was Fenris. Hawke's keen gaze landed on the elf, his eyes narrowed, now wary where they hadn't been before.
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"If it is, I want to return it." Fenris gave the bottles one last glance, both curious and suspicious. "I'm glad you're here," he added after a moment. "If it is a trap, there's no one I'd rather face it with."
Partly because Hawke, as a powerful mage, would be able to see any trap Fenris missed. But that wasn't the only reason Fenris felt safer than before. Ever since giving in to his feelings, there were many things he found more enjoyable when Hawke was there, ranging from the walks they took through Kirkwall to their swift executions of nighttime bandits. As unfamiliar as this place was, it didn't change any of that.
Then he noticed the way Hawke watched him, and the earlier relief from Hawke's confident assurance disappeared.
"What would I have to gain from drawing your attention to what's out of place?" asked Fenris. His voice was even, his body very still. If it came down to a fight, he knew he'd lose. "I'm real, I promise you. Here." Moving carefully, he unwrapped the red cloth from around his right wrist - as real as the night Hawke gave it to him - and held it out.
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cuz that's not creepy or anything.no subject
Fenris left the weapon on his back alone and straightened up. Fade or no, he was dangerous enough without it. "'Plucked from our homes'?" he repeated. "What does that mean?"
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"If it's the Fade, then it's a part of it I've never seen before, which is certainly possible. But color me skeptical. No, I think this is somewhere... else."
She was curious; a little irked at being parted from her ship, again, but still curious. There were no Qunari here, it seemed. That was a major point in its favor.
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It didn't explain the magically-appearing Tevinter wine, either.
"Who else is here?" he asked. If something malicious and powerful was at work, he found it hard to believe Hawke hadn't been dragged right into the middle of it, and Isabela sounded like she'd been in this strange place long enough to put more pieces together than Fenris had.
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She thought for a moment. "Do you remember Anders doing anything... let's call it noteworthy in Kirkwall?"
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Anders, here in this unfamiliar place. That was the last thing Fenris needed. If Isabela had come across any of the others, she would have mentioned them too, which meant they were on their own with a dangerous mage Fenris couldn't trust if Hawke wasn't there. He would almost have preferred being trapped in the Fade.
"Why does that puzzle you?" Fenris asked. "He must have something to do with why we're here. Have you spoken to him?"
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