Sorry to hear about your job, I hope you find something that fits your needs soon. For prompts, Fenris ends up in Ferelden during the Blight somehow? I feel like he'd be so unimpressed with... basically everything that happens in DAO, really. (Connor, Zathrian, the Circle, Caladrius, the Anvil... gosh, magic bs everywhere now that I think about it.) But he'd probably get along well with Sten?
It seemed that Fenris’ luck was even worse than he thought.
He had deluded himself into believing his streak of misfortune was over when he had managed to procure the funds to board a ship out of Rivain. The peninsula had been more treacherous than he had been lead to believe, he had needed to evade not only those who hunted him but local slavers as well. Perhaps he was foolish to believe that there was a place without them, but he had hoped. His ship had been free of salvers or pirates and he had paid the crew enough to allow him safe passage to Ferelden.
It was as far as they were sailing and Fenris wanted to be as far away from Tevinter as possible. He had been told to expect bad weather, cold winters, and unpleasant locals. He had not been told to expect the blight.
The Blight had to strike here, it couldn’t have appeared in the Deep Roads under Tevinter or in the lyrium mines outside Minrathous. It had to appear beneath Fenris’ feet as he docked in the cloudy and mud-stained South, as if as punishment, the Maker pursuing him in his master’s absence. The only silver lining Fenris could find was the fact that Danarius would not come if the Blight raged through the land. Any hunters and slavers he would hire would refuse, or demand increased pay for their trouble.
However, that lining was thin. Fenris was stranded in a strange land with no coin and no where further he could run without feeding himself to the darkspawn. He stayed in Highever, watching as leagues of refugees poured in from all corners of Ferelden, running from the destroyed villages and darkspawn running unchallenged. He tried to find work, expecting that some would want protection in these uncertain times. But he was unwilling to forge into the land alone, and no one had the means to hire a bodyguard. And it seemed those that had the means did not want to waste their soverigns on an elf. Same story, different land.
Staying in one place chafed Fenris, made him anxious as more and more strangers pushed their way into the city. He began to steal what he could not earn, and watched the ships that docked for one that would take him away without slapping irons on him as soon as they reached the open sea.
One morning a man approached Fenris on the docks, it was not uncommon, Fenris was there often and refugees were desperate for aid or information. He was followed by an elder woman and two women, something wild about him, the set of his shoulders made Fenris expect he was a guard or some sort of warrior before the blight struck. The red war paint across the bridge of his nose was unique though.
“I’m looking for a ship sailing to Kirkwall.” The man explained. “We have family there.”
Fenris crossed his arms, wondered what it would be like to flee into the safety of family.
“Most ships from here sail to Kirkwall.” Fenris explained, well versed now on the regular trading routes. He himself had avoided the ships to Kirkwall, something about the ‘The City Of Chains’ did not sit right with him. “However, I would avoid those two ships-” Fenris indicated two of the larger vessels, “-Its very possible that those belong to slavers, the ships are Tevinter in design.”
The man’s eyes widened and Fenris knew he had not even considered the possibility of dishonest sailors selling their passengers as slaves. What sort of life had he led before? Something idyllic in the Ferelden hills with the sheep?
“Thank you for that.” The man answered, scratching at his beard as he peered around at the others milling and pushing through the docks. “We should probably warn the others, or tell the guard.”
Fenris rolled his eyes at the naivety, “The guards have been well compensated. There is no use in trying to save everyone.”
The man made a face, “Isn’t there?”(buy me a coffee?)
