rosalinecervantes:

“It’d be nice.”

One eyebrow rose.

“… ‘ve heard stranger.”

“It serves its function well enough.”

peachpieanonymous:

Veigue froze at the sound of a voice—the source of which he had managed not to notice. At least not before he had spoken. Now he stood ready, a hand already hear his blade, just in case.

“… I am a wanderer.” He admitted that much, though as to being a threat… that depended on the other man. “But only a threat if you make me one.”

Upon seeing the man prepared to arm himself, Fenris reached for the blade slung across his back.

“Hmph. I’ve no need of mindless conflict. Stay your hand and I shall do the same.”

(Source: smoulderandcold)

rosalinecervantes:

smoulderandcold started following you

“… ‘nd who the hell’re you.”

“You require the name of every man who passes you? Fenris should suffice.”

peachpieanonymous started following you

Fenris stiffened as another’s presence drew near. He peered over his shoulder and eyed the younger man. Strange. The man had hair on the verge of silver much like his own. —ah, but there wasn’t a scratch upon his skin. Fenris abandoned that line of thought.

“Are you a wanderer?” Are you a threat?

Hahaha. Hah.

ooc:

To Dragon Age followers,

I really obviously can’t stay committed to this group |B

So I’ve decided to go independent. Just. So you all know. /o/

champion-of-kirkwall:

Yes, if you’d like him. Looks like he’s plenty interested in you.

[There was a small, happy ‘woof’ from the dog in Hawke’s arm, as if in confirmation.]

Hmm… Very well. Don’t think that I’ll always allow you to shirk responsibility, though. I won’t help you take in an whole litter.

(Source: thefamilyscoundrel, via thefamilyscoundrel)

Alms for the Poor

champion-of-kirkwall:

grandclerickirkwall:

Elthina stopped when she reached the elf, the templars went on and paused in front of the doors. “Ah, I suppose he must. I’m sure Meredith, Orsino, and even the Guard Captain keep him on his toes, hm?”

She gestured towards the doors and as she did, the templars pulled them open, “Well, shall we be off? I’d rather not keep these lads from their posts longer than necessary.”

“My I’m-being-talked-about senses are tingling. I can only hope the subject is pleasant, if nothing else?”

The Chantry doors had opened just as Hawke had reached the top of the steps. He greeted Elthina and Fenris with a genial smile as he waited just beyond the threshold. “I would’ve shown up a little sooner, but I had a mess to clean up. I’m sorry.”

“Let’s— Hawke. Why would you think otherwise?” Fenris questioned, mindful to keep his tone level. As amusing as it would be to banter all the way to Lowtown, they were in the presence of the grand cleric. If they were to look like fools, let it be on their own time. Preferably in the privacy of Hawke’s home.

Fenris cleared his throat and took point. He was better suited for the frontlines, ever alert.

(via thefamilyscoundrel)

champion-of-kirkwall:

… giving in to a moment of sentimental foolishness.

[Suddenly a light clicked on in his head, and he gave his friend a warm smile.]

You said you might’ve been interested in a Mabari at one point, didn’t you?

You—you mean to give this pup to me?

(Source: thefamilyscoundrel)

champion-of-kirkwall:

magesbane replied to your post: WANT TO BUY A MABARI PUP SERAH?

What am I?

… naturally, the exception that proves the rule.

Good save, Hawke.

(Source: thefamilyscoundrel)

Alms for the Poor

champion-of-kirkwall:

grandclerickirkwall:

A few moments of silence pass before a brother appeared in Elthina’s doorway. “There’s an elven man here to see you, Your Grace.” He said, his voice a little shaky. Elthina raised an eyebrow, “Everything okay, Brother?” His gaze shifted to the floor as he spoke, “W-Well, he’s armed…” Elthina chuckled, “Oh, don’t worry. He’s not going to harm you…or me.” She smiled at him and bowed her head, “Thank you for telling me.” He bowed back, “Of course, Grand Cleric.” And walked away.

She turned around and grabbed the satchel off her desk, slinging it over her shoulder and signaled for the templars to follow her. As she approached the large, arched doors of the chantry, she saw her escort standing, waiting for her. “Fenris. I’m glad to see Hawke saw my letter so quickly.”

Hawke’d had every intention of joining the two of them.

He’d taken a bit longer to leave, though; the dog had chosen this afternoon of all of them to test what kind of chew toys the books on his shelves made. The answer was clear; messy ones. It was embarrassing that such simple matters such as cleaning his pet’s messes could hold him back just as much as matters of life and death. And sometimes he wasn’t entirely sure what he preferred.

Now he made his way up the steps to the Chantry doors, however, not doubting that Fenris had beaten him there. It would’ve been appropriate, anyhow; the request had primarily been for the elf, not him. Still, tagging along sounded like a nice reprieve from more complicated things.

Fenris’s first instinct was to bow. It wasn’t often that he deferred to anyone, but he had faith in the grand cleric, and no reason to oppose her. (Perhaps it was a slight against a certain fool mage, too.) “I’d say that Hawke is used to receiving many demands now; he’s learned to be efficient.” He didn’t mean to speak too fondly of the Champion, lest one question the nature of their working relationship.

(via thefamilyscoundrel)

Alms for the Poor

grandclerickirkwall:

The Grand Cleric waited in her study, two templars standing by the back wall, awaited Her Grace’s orders. The satchel of coins lay in wait on her desk. She was so eager to get a start on her journey that Elthina couldn’t bring herself to be still. She began pacing in front of her desk. In Hightown, she could walk the streets and know she was safe. But in Lowtown…the guards are spread rather thin. This is the most danger she’s ever thrown herself into. She let out a deep sigh, that’s the reason she requested the aid of Fenris and the Champion. Surely no harm would befall her if she were in their company.

She stopped her pacing and leaned against her desk, trying her best to calm herself as she awaited her escort(s).

Fenris left for the Chantry with little more than his trusted blade. What few satchels he carried at his hip were filled to the brim with poultices and a bit of coin. He always kept money on him, for it was better to spread one’s wealth than to hoard it in one location. Given his experience, Fenris knew not to grow too attached to material objects anyhow.

He ignored the skeptical looks that others within the Chantry walls forgot to reign in. No matter what his connection to the Champion was, Fenris was still but an elf. Old prejudices died hard and he was in no position to argue, nor did he care to start a heated debate while he had far more important matters to attend. He contented himself with a slight hunch. At the slightest threat, he’d snap into action like an elastic band and strike first.

“I’m here on the Grand Cleric’s behalf,” he told the first person with decent manners.

(via grandclerickirkwall-deactivated)

wetfrocks:

I’m.. not sure I should be feeling flattered.

I’ve yet to say anything with the intention of flattering you.

(via wetfrocks-deactivated20120710)

wetfrocks:

magesbane:

wetfrocks:

  Would you like a pretty little flower?

Somehow I doubt that this is a gift free of ill intent.

Oh, hush. It’s not like I can stuff a scorpion down the stem!

If anyone were to find a way, I’m sure it’d be you. A pirate has to be resourceful to succeed.

(via wetfrocks-deactivated20120710)

wetfrocks:

magesbane:

wetfrocks:

 Aw, you’re no fun.

And you’re a nuisance.

  Would you like a pretty little flower?

Somehow I doubt that this is a gift free of ill intent.

(via wetfrocks-deactivated20120710)