da_champion | On the Road

On the Road - For Unshod

The Storm Coast wasn’t much different from Crestwood. It rained almost constantly but there was a distinct lack of undead and the air had the smell of the ocean instead of rotting lake. But the rain was near constant. Endless. Driving Hawke insane even though he had on an oil slick cloak that kept him dry. One last gift from Inquisitor Lavellan before he left to head north to Wiessupt.

It didn't help him climb slick rock any but he wasn't soaked to the bone. Maybe he should have left from the desert but going back to Skyhold before he left to say goodbye to Varric and a quick resupply was better. Except for this miserable, Maker-foresaken weather.

When he heard the sounds of a fight a distance away on the beach he debated getting involved. It would slow him down and he was making slow progress already... but... he could take his bad mood out on whoever was causing trouble. A good fight would warm him up. The Inquisition had a presence here but they couldn’t be everywhere. Hawke would be doing them a favor by chipping in. He’d also get to throw a fireball which might actually warm him up a little.

He did not expect to see a familiar face cutting through Tevinter slavers. Hawke didn't even know there were slavers on this coast. There was no mistaking the distinctive flash of markings and the buzz of lyrium in the air. He could almost taste it in the back of his throat.

“Fenris!” Hawke shouted in greeting as he came quickly stumbling down the side of a not so steep cliff.

He reached the beach and threw his hand out ice lancing from his fingertips through a slaver. He made a gurgling sound before he fell dead. Spinning his staff around Hawke walked right into the fight. He was never one of those mages that stayed at a distance. He could throw a fireball but also run a man through with the bladed end of the staff.

Not that Fenris needed much help. He was perfectly capable of slaughtering slavers without any help even outnumbered five to one. They made short work of the slavers who seemed to be waiting for a ship to take them back to Tevinter with some kidnapped Dalish elves. Hawke kept back while Fenris freed them from their cages and shackles.

“Good to see you’re keeping busy,” he drawled when Fenris approached him.

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The rain would not deter him from his hunt. From finding the slavers who thought to take advantage of the south's chaos and steal innocents for their trade. He had made quite the name for himself in the Free Marches: the Blue Wraith, but he wasn't after fame or acknowledgement, he had a goal to cripple the Tevinter slave trade. It drove his every step since leaving Kirkwall.

So, he soon found himself on the southern coastlands of the Waking Sea. The Inquisition and Inquisitor Lavellan had the problem mostly in hand, enough that he found himself with little to hunt, something that made him debate if he should move elsewhere.

Still, his hunt brought him to the Storm Coast, where a group was waiting on their ship to steal them and their hostages.

For a moment, as he pulls his glowing hand from a man's chest - heart crushed, gasping for air that will not keep him alive - he swears he hears his name on the wind. It doesn't take long for it to become a reality when the familiar blast of cold lances through the slaver to his left, accompanied by the mage himself joining the fray.

Hawke.

The fight is nothing with the two of them fighting together, over in a blink leaving slavers littering the ground with their blood and bodies. Fenris finishes his task first, freeing the Dalish they thought to steal before approaching his friend.

"It's been a while, my friend.. and I cannot stand idle while Imperium takes advantage of the war for immoral gain," unlike Hawke, Fenris doesn't have an oil slick cloak, instead a normal one that is soaked through but doesn't seem to be slowing him down. "What has you in this miserable weather?"

They're both bloody and wet but Hawke draws Fenris into a quick, back slapping hug anyway. Maker it's good to see him. It's been so damn long since he got to see his friends. He knew what was going on with them solely through Varric's letters and any rumors he heard while living on the run.

"I'm making my way north," he says as he jerks his chin in the general direction of his journey. "I've been trying to find Carver for awhile now. I haven't heard from him and neither has Varric."

The worry is obvious in his tone and expression. "There was some bad business with the Wardens and blood magic. Carver wasn't there... I'm going to find him."

No matter how long that journey was or how far he had to go. Hawke would blast down the door to the Warden fortress if necessary to find his brother. He really, really hoped Varric found someone in the recruited Wardens that had some bit of news. Hawke couldn't rest until he knew Carver had escaped the tragedy.

"Helped the Inquisition for a bit." He thinks back to the Fade and almost shudders. "But now I'm on my own again."

The hug is returned with a single pat to Hawke's back in return, a simple enough show of affection from the man, but it meant mountains. He wasn't one for mush physical displays, but knows his friend to be and is glad to return it. Besides, it's been too long.

Fenris listens to the information that Hawke shares, his eyebrows expressive in his surprise to hear the terms Wardens and Bloodmagic in the same sentence. Would they really resort to such ill fated magics and for what reason? But his brow knits at the mention of the Inquisition.

"Varric is with the Inquisition is he not? Are things truly so fraught that he would need to risk your safety?" They were all on the run for a reason, Hawke especially with how things ended in Kirkwall. He knows that the Dwarf would never risk Hawke unnecessarily.

Not that he doesn't know how bad things are, he's seen the war firsthand, heard word of Corypheus, of Haven and Skyhold, of the Inquisition's choices and accomplishments... Whispers of the horrors red lyrium.

He tugs his hood up over his head once more, it does little to keep him dry, but it shields him from the pelting rain. "Come, let us walk as we speak," he as he starts to move up the coast in a northernly fashion.

"Well, it so happened that the Inquisition's business touched on mine so Varric knew he had to call me in before I was stumbled on." Because that would have been bad for him. It would've led to capture and questioning and a lot of problems for Hawke. It was better he come in on his own and avoid some trouble.

Not all because it was him and trouble always found him.

Hawke looks back towards the Dalish but they seem find on their own and are taking what they can from the slavers who tried to capture them. He falls into step with Fenris like he has hundreds of times before back in Kirkwall.

"He really believes the Inquisition can do some good in the world." Hawke has seen the positive effects but anything steeped in Chantry bullshit and Andrastian legends is something he cannot trust. The Chantry still wants him captured and Tranquil.

"And he seems happy there. This Seeker that grabbed him is a bit much but he tolerates her." Hawke rolls his eyes. He's not sure why Varric does but that's his friend's business to tell him eventually.

Fenris does what he can to free the elves who get grabbed by slavers, but leaves them to their freedom once again, allowing them to choose what to do and where to go next. He doesn't even loot the slavers, leaving it all for them.

Sure it means he sleeps outside more often than not, but he makes due where he can. He's survived worse than a couple hungry nights.

"The dwarf does best where the story is thickest, he is not one to sit idle while a tale is being spun," it feels nice to be in step with Hawke once more. It's been too long since he traveled with another, especially someone he trusts. And Hawke is a good friend, one of his few.

Perhaps they could even travel together for the time being. North was the direction he was thinking of heading next and Hawke is already on route northward.

Trudging up a hillside, he looks the man beside him. "And you, do you think well of this Inquisition and its goals?" While he trusts the dwarf and his opinions, Varric can romanticize things at times, lets the writer in him sometimes gets the better of how he talks about things.

Hawke huffs out a breath. "They're goal is good but it's the after I'm worried about."

For the moment Hawke doesn't mention that Corypheus is back. It still frustrates him. Another failure on a long, long list. If he had just been able to understand his father's writings in the Warden prison maybe he could have stopped this. Maybe they never would have reached this point.

"A powerful organization like that isn't going to disappear just because the current danger has passed," he explains, his tone troubled. "And they've got the support of some very powerful people. What do they become after? What becomes their next cause?"

Hawke can't help but worry they'll turn against mages or become another arm of the Chantry like the Inquisitions of old. What war will rage across Thedas next and will they lead the charge?

"The Inquisitor isn't ready for the unintended consequences of her actions. Like I wasn't. But she's a legend now and there's no stopping it." He had warned her as much when they talked privately but there's no telling if his words made a difference.

Hawke speaks of the same concerns that Fenris has had about the Inquisition being formed. Their goal now is noble and needed, but what of after? What wars will they wage or changes will they wrought? How much influence will they really allow the Chantry have? Will they back the mages or templars after all is over or will they become a third party with their own goals?

Before he might have said he would like to see the Inquisition do it's part in bringing the mages back under Circle protection again, but he cannot say that with the same breadth of feeling he once could. Not when he cares for and trusts an apostate like Hawke. What if they saw fit to make the man Tranquil when he's done nothing to deserve such fate?

Why does it scratch at Fenris the wrong way -- like nails tearing into skin with a sickening slowness.

What a headache.

"Her actions and words will speak like thunder even should she whisper," he's heard how people revere her - a Dalish elf treated as if Andraste herself. Even Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, did not have the wide spread influence this one woman now holds.

Sure a war was started due to the choices made that day, by Hawke and those around him - there has been much lasting impact from the man's choices - but the Inquisitor speaks with influence at her back it seems. Influence and religion. What a dangerous combination.

"Let us hope then that her actions continue to prove just then."

So did Hawke's whether he wanted that or not. He was much happier when he was Champion and he could, at most, influence Kirkwall's elite. Now his story and rumors of his actions spread like wildfire whether they were true or not. He hoped the Inquisitor did better with her power than he did.

"Only time and historians will tell," he says with a shrug. They crest the hill and Hawke gazes out for a moment towards the wilderness ahead of him. Maybe he should have taken the Inquisitor up on that offer of a horse even though he has no idea how to ride.

He turns towards Fenris. "Where are you headed next?" he asks, curious what Fenris' plans are.

They'll obviously part ways. Hawke sent his friends away for good reason after everything that happened in Kirkwall. He was not safe to travel with. The Chantry, rogue Templars, and mercenaries were all after him. He travels like a vagabond because that's what he is. Occasionally the Dalish will shelter him if they know enough of him and how he's treated their people but he's usually on his own.

And that's how it should stay. He doesn't want to put Fenris in any more danger. If he's out there killing slavers Fenris is in enough danger. Tevinter must despise him.

Hawke was a legend himself, it was hard not to have his words and action carry such weight. Especially when the mages used him as an example, when most often Fenris knew him to be an exception.

Looking at the man, he gives the question thought before he answers, because he doesn't really have concrete plans. Until now he's been more a hound with a scent, following where it took him without exception. Tevinter was taking advantage of the southern chaos, but the Inquisition seems to have Ferelden under control, enough so that he finds the trail oft leading to corpses.

"Wherever my hunt leads.. but north for now," towards the heart of his danger, Tevinter itself. "The south is well in hand," but he could go into the fire where others feared to tread, stop the slavers who have somehow escaped the Inquisitions' sword.

"If you would care to, we could travel together for the time being, until our paths separate," could be hours, days, weeks.. Fenris knows they parted for good reasons, but out here, alone, he doesn't see why they shouldn't pair up for a short time. The company and second pair of eyes was invaluable.

Especially with the dangers that nipped at their heels.

The south did not feel well in hand to Hawke but it wasn't his damned problem to solve. Let the Inquisition handle it. He had more personal matters to attend to. Until he found Carver and knew for certain his little brother hadn't been sacrificed the world could figure things out without the Champion.

"I'm heading to Wiessupt," he explains, frowning slightly. "That's more than a bit north and it is still not safe to travel with me. I've pissed off more than the Chantry recently."

Hawke could now add the illustrious Venitori to those after his head given how he interfered with the Warden business at the fortress. There was more danger around him than ever before and Fenris didn't need to get caught up in it. He shouldn't be caught up in it.

"It's probably better if we don't go far together," he says, unable to outright turn his friend away but still concerned deeply for all the trouble he's brought to his life.

Part of him is a little surprised Hawke seems so opposed to traveling together. Was it merely for his safety?

Yet, Fenris would prefer to get caught up in the trouble Hawke was in if it meant the man was safer from it. He held no fear of what nipped at Hawke's heels and if they were going in the same direction then he would gladly act the sword to the man's magic.

"And I have most of Tevinter wanting my head or worse," he looks at the other man, he doesn't know all that is after him but he doesn't care either. "Whatever hounds you, it will be better dealt with two than alone - besides, they will not expect either of us to have company for the time being." Not with how they both been traveling alone.

Even if it was for a short time. He doesn't want to bring his danger to Hawke either, yet he feels the warmth of a companionship he hasn't felt in a while and does not wish to let it pass so soon. And he knows and trusts the man to be capable in battle, having him at his side will be a boon more than a drawback.

"Come, the sooner we are away from this damned coast and its rain the better."

"I mean..." Hawke starts walking again because Fenris starts walking again. It will take awhile to leave the coast given the terrain and he does agree that the rain is miserable. Crestwood rained a lot. Even his time in the desert didn't really dry out his annoyance with the weather.

"Tevinter's a good enemy to have but you don't want the Chantry after you too. Varric was able to get you all out of trouble with them," he says as they walk, concern evident in his voice. "You don't need to be in trouble with them again."

Varric already revealed he's a liar to the Inquisition. The Seeker had been pissed when she found out Varric had protected him. Hawke had a conversation with her once he heard about her threats to his best friend. He spat on her plan to make him Inquisitor and made it perfectly clear he would never help the Chantry.

And what he would do to her if she ever threatened Varric again.

"It's too much risk to you." Which has been Hawke's justification for staying away from his friends all this time. They deserved peace and safety after he unintentionally upended their lives.

He can't help but huff a small amused sound at Hawke calling Tevinter a good enemy to have. There was no disagreement there, he was glad to have the Imperium as his enemy as he attempts to cripple their slave trade.

But it felt as if Hawke was trying to push him away what with the concern for safety with the Chantry and the like. It wasn't as if he didn't know that their enemies could become the other's enemy by traveling together. That he is putting a target on Hawke's back as much as the other man was pitting one on his, but..

"I was never much for religion, if the Chantry wishes to come after me for my association with you once more, then so be it. Let them come," there is conviction in his voice. He means it. Besides, in Fenris' book, despite all the mistakes and poor choices in trust, Hawke has done a lot of good.

Regardless, it was a risk he was willing to take.

"I believe two against any one of our threats is better odds -- would it not be prudent to see you get to Carver in one piece?"

Can't check on your brother if you're dead Hawke.

He cost his friends enough. The guilt hangs heavy on Hawke, perhaps heavily that usual after spending time in the Inquisition. It was so good to see Varric and share drinks with him. They were better drinks than the Hanged Man ever served but it was almost like old times except they were old and very different.

That's what makes Fenris' offer so tempting. Traveling with a friend again, not facing the world alone, was familiar and comforting. Even though he didn't exactly like Stroud traveling and working with him had been nice. It had been nice not to be alone.

"For the time being then," he sighs. "We'll travel north together until you need to head towards whatever business you have in Tevinter."

Or at the first sign of real trouble for Fenris because of him Hawke will disappear in the middle of the night with only an apologetic note left behind.

"Should my hunt take my elsewhere, we shall go our separate ways, but for now," he nods as he trudges through the cold coastal rain with Hawke at his side.

And it did feel nice to have a friend beside him once more. He had tried to travel with others who wanted the same cause as him, but they became liabilities more often than not. So he traveled alone, ever the lone wolf. He can't stop the grimace as he thinks about it, hearing it in Danarius' voice.

No, he was a wraith now, not a wolf. That is what he's made of himself with his freedom and the lyrium etched into his skin.

"Tell me, what of the others? Have you heard anything?" Varric kept his few letters to Fenris very simple and brief, easy enough for him to read. He's gotten better at reading with Hawke's original teaching and time, but it's still a rather simple affair.

Edited 2023-08-26 22:36 (UTC)

"Merrill is gathering the scattered Dalish in the Free Marches," he says with a little smile. He still worries about the blood magic but she's growing into a responsible Keeper. "Last I heard she's been fighting the capture of Dalish mage children. And Isabela actually joined the Inquisition as an agent. Can you believe that? She's raiding Venatori ships on the high seas."

Isabela living her best pirate life while Merrill continued to protect her people and their past. Hawke is proud of them both though he worries just a touch about them too.

"Sebastian tried to wage war on Kirkwall but the Inquisition helped stop him." There's a bitterness and anger when he talks about his old friend. He never interfered with Sebastian's hunt for Anders but he wouldn't kill his former lover just to appease the Prince.

"And you know what Varrci's been up to."

Fenris listens carefully, curious about their mutual friends and their wellbeing.

While he was never overly fond of Merrill, he still finds himself glad to hear she is well. Even thinks that with how the circles and templars are in disarray that the Dalish might be the next best solution for mage children. Though he worries about how her use of blood magic will influence others. It puts him on edge, to think she is likely still practicing it.

A smile comes to his face at the information about Isabela. "Good," it slips from him, proud of his friend. He is glad to see she is doing damage to the Venatori, to think her working with the Inquisition.. she was not usually one for religious organizations, but they must pay well.

Sebastian is a strange subject. Fenris did not find him disagreeing with the man when he said that Anders should die, yet Fenris trusted Hawke's decision implicitly. It was a complicated matter where Fenris learned that his loyalties to Hawke were stronger than his convictions about mages and about Anders.

The bitterness is palpable, the anger. Fenris thinks that Kirkwall has seen enough damage that a war against it-- He shakes his head at the information.

"It seems the Inquisition has a longer reach than even I realized," he heard of them in all his travels, it was hard not to, but how dangerous this seemed. "I am glad to hear most of them are well. Aveline is still in Kirkwall, yes? She must have been glad to have the Inquisition's help."

"She is. She appreciated the Inquisitions help in keeping order," he says with a nod. "Varric and Cullen made sure she didn't have to fight Sebastian alone."

Another way everything has changed over the years. Before they would have all stood together and now they're scattered to the winds and fighting each other. It's terrible how the actions of one man destroyed so much and brought so much pain.

Hawke goes a bit quiet after that focusing on walking the difficult terrain. It's not often he lets himself think back to Kirkwall and everything that changed. How painful it all was. How stupid he was.

The find a mostly abandoned shack on the edge of the coast. It looks like someone's fishing home but not currently in use. Still carried the scent of it though but it's better than sleeping out in the elements.

"We can rest here for the night." Hawke looks towards the sky. "It's going to get dark soon... I think."

It's hard to tell with the cloud cover but that's probably true?

"Good," it was simple enough to say, it carried enough weight.

To think that people who were once friends were now fighting each other, were at odds with each other. All because Anders and his Vengeance-- He has much he could say on it, but doesn't. Hawke carries too much of that guilt when it was undeserved.

The silence is heavy with thought, but he makes no comment on it. Sometimes the mind was an overwhelming place, he understood that, knows what it is like to have a war with yourself. He doesn't know what is on the other man's mind, but he doesn't care to guess either.

The shack they find smells like fish and Fenris immediately curls his lip at it, a noise of disgust leaving him. His dislike of fish and the smell is no less than it used to be, though he still steps into the building to escape the rain. He knew better than to turn his nose up at it, he did not wish to sleep in this cursed rain.

"You think correctly," he looks around and sees a fire pit with some dry wood inside and nods while he takes off his cloak. "Let us start a fire and look for what supplies we can use for the night, it wouldn't do to catch our death to rain."

Hawke tosses some logs into the fire pit and then snaps his fingers. Flames spring to life between the logs and he feeds the fire with mana until it catches and burns naturally.

"Here." He drives his staff into the ground near the fire and then holds out a hand for Fenris' cloak. "Yours will dry better by the fire."

There's no oil treatment keeping the rain from soaking through Fenris' cloak like there is for Hawke's. He carefully drapes Fenris' cloak over his staff so it will be warmed by the fire and hopefully dry by tomorrow morning.

"I have some rations." The Inquisition tried to outfit him with supplies but it was difficult when there was no horse to carry it. Walking limited what he kept with him. "We can share those. Or I could go fishing?"

He's teasing, knowing full well Fenris doesn't like fish. Even though it's a simple matter of hurling lightning into the water to stun the fish to the surface.

Fenris doesn't hesitate to hand the soaked cloak to the other man when his hand is held out. It was strange to be around magic he trusted again, but it was incredibly convenient for starting a fire. It honestly brings a conflicted kind of softness to his face, before he turns away and digs through a chest.

"You can go fishing for yourself if you so desire, but I will not partake," he makes another disgusted noise. He would bear the smell since he knows food is not always easy to come by and should be partaken of when the chance strikes -- he would be unhappy, but he would deal.

Besides, it was almost nice to be teased once again. He forgotten what camaraderie felt like.

"I will partake of a ration -- here," he tosses an old musty blanket at Hawke, something that is beginning to become moth eaten but still fully functional. "It will do. There is little of else in here for us."

This place seems long without use, probably since the start of the war. The chest was mostly empty of anything of value or worth stealing, not that he intended to steal, but it did not escape his notice.

Hawke shakes out the blanket and it is indeed musty. None of his magical powers will help, unfortunately. He just has to endure the dusty old smell. It's the little things that make him miss having a home and a bed.

"Here." Hawke takes one of the ration packs from the small bag he carried under his cloak during the day. It had jerky, nuts, and a long lasting bread that would keep on the road well. "I'll go get some fish for myself. Though, maybe one the road we should hunt some things along the way."

He's not much of a hunter but that doesn't matter with magic. Hawke's eaten all sorts of creatures killed by magic. He's found his fire is good for pre-cooking and clearing off stubborn fur. Burning fur doesn't smell good though.

"I'll try and cook it outside for you."

Catching the ration one handed, he nods his thanks before returning to the fire to sit in front of it. He positions himself close, slowly taking off his gauntlets and letting them dry out by the soaked cloak, before warming his hands and feet by the fire.

"It will be nice to have your magic, faster in the hunt than I am," he wouldn't mind magically killed animals. Much faster than trapping or waiting to find something stupid enough to get close. Fenris had his speed and strength, but nothing long distance - most things that would be killed by him were predators, and they did not have the best meat.

He could appreciate Hawke's magic, even if he had a general distaste for the practice - he trusted the man and thus his magic as well.

"That would be appreciated, this place stinks bad enough as is," his lip curls in disgust. If it were anyone other than Hawke, he might tell them to eat it outside too, but this was Hawke. He can eat in the shack.

"It's not that bad. The Wounded Coast smelled worse." Hawke pats Fenris' shoulder on the way out. "If you hear me screaming 'it's a bear! it's a bear!" there's a bear."

Hawke goes outside towards the river a little ways away from the hut and waits to see shadows in the water before he launches a lightning bolt into the water. Then it's a bit of a scramble to collect the fish. He lays them out on the riverbank and simply roasts them with blasts of fire.

The riverbank is good because it doesn't catch while Hawke roasts the fish. They're probably overdone by the time he stops but it's good enough. He carries the hot fish back carefully, almost juggling them.

"Good news! No bears." Hawke grins at him as he shoulders his way inside.

"I wish you luck then," there's an amused note as he says it in parting. He would of course go out and help if that actually became the case, the bears around here can be dangerous and the smell of fish will likely draw them near, yet, he wasn't too worried. Hawke was capable of handling a bear long enough for him to join the fray.

While the man is out he shakes the excess water from his hair - it's longer than when they were last together in Kirkwall, he's thought about cutting it but never really has gotten around to it. He leaves it untied so that it dries faster while he picks at the ration he was given.

Fenris tucks some of the hair behind his long ear when the man returns with the stink of cooked fish, which is so much better than raw fish. Still his nose wrinkles as he takes a bite of jerky, chewing the dried meat.

"A surprise considering the feast you hold, surely they are lining up outside as we speak," there's teasing in his tone, though it's his normal dryness. "Come, the fire is warm," he wiggles his toes near the fire, letting them get nice and warm after being in the cold all day.

"May as well enjoy your meal while you shake off the damp."

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