Fenris sat back on his little cot as the ship set sail for Kirkwall. He intended to sail as far away as possible to gain better ground over his magister. He'd need extra hands, however, no matter how far he went. The elf pondered several different possibilities of confrontation. Fenris wound have to take on several mercenary jobs to get coin enough to hire thugs. He sighed inwardly and crossed his arms.

While he plotted vengeance, a thud beside him caught his attention. A smaller woman sat at his side, offering him a mug. He arched a brow at the redheaded woman on his bedroll, eyeing her suspiciously. Her long mahogany hair curled about the elbows, just recently pulled down from an up-do state. She turned her silky velvet eyes on his. He took the mug slowly, and watched as she sipped from her own cup.

"You look cold. It's Brandywine; 'will warm you right up, that." She said. Fenris had to admit, it was beginning to chill. He glanced over at the girl once more. She scoffed.

"I've already helped dish this out to over half the deckhands. Chill out, will you?" Her cool Nevarran accent drifted in her speech. Fenris hesitated before sipping at his drink. It was a simple, smooth beverage, with a bitter and tingly aftertaste; nothing special, but it was warm. The little woman looked him up and down, taking in his extraordinary appearance. Fenris gave her a quick, warning glare. She put her gloved hands up in defense.

"Alright, I won't pry." She said, somewhat defeated. Her dark eyes caught him as she took another swig from her tankard.

"I haven't seen you on deck." She stated. Fenris glanced to her. "What's your name, kabethari?" She asked. Fenris looked to her with surprise.

"You know the Qun?" He questioned. The little woman laughed.

"I like the culture." She leaned her head against the wood. "Now, your name, if you please."

"Fenris." He replied with a hint of smolder. She looked him over and smiled.

"Triss Fauks. Good to meet you." She smiled, "You're going to Kirkwall? Antiva not far enough for you?" She asked, smiling as she emptied her tankard. Fenris arched a brow at her. Triss awaited his response patiently.

"I need to get as far away as possible." He replied. Triss sighed.

"That's what they all say." She muttered.

"They?" Fenris questioned. Triss gestured to all the other elves on their level.

"Look around. You think all these elves are here to cook for the nobles? Why do you think you got a ride so easily?" She smiled and stood, "Well, this was a lovely chat, but captain's gonna miss me if I stay too long. I've a cabin upstairs if you wanna get...intimate." And with a click of the tongue and a wink, she was off on deck. Fenris was somewhat baffled by this random encounter. She was a curious one.

Fenris sighed to himself. He didn't have time for foolish distractions. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and noticed a piece of parchment at his side. Curiously, he picked it up. Hastily scribbled symbols were etched onto the paper. He understood these. Slaves would use them as a code to warn one another of danger, or simply for conversation. The little marks warned him of happenings upstairs. Slavers…

Fenris stood, alarmed at first, then calmly. He looked about to the other slaves being shipped to their freedom. Only he received such a note. Denarius must be onto him. Did Triss leave this for him? Was it a trap? Fenris thought to himself; the only way to see around this was to hide somewhere on the ship where no one would find him. But this was a ship; there weren't many places to hide. Perhaps he could bully one of the others to check out the deck for him. The slavers wouldn't be looking for anyone but him, and another elf could just as easily pass for a deck hand. There were many elves on this ship, and he was the only one that stood out. Fenris turned to a thin, light skinned and dark haired boy across from him.

"You, come here." He commanded. The other elf arched a brow and approached meticulously. Fenris dug about for the last bits of coin he had. "What do you know about the captain of this ship?" He asked. The boy looked to the lyrium etched elf wearily, stumbling over his words.

"The captain's a Nevarran hunter. He uses noble getaways as a cover up for slave transport… to get us to freedom." The boy toyed with his fingers.

"How long have you been here?" Fenris asked. The boy thought to himself for a moment.

"Almost a year…" He replied.

"And would you know of any hunters capturing the slaves?" Fenris pried. The boy shook his head.

"They've only come… maybe once..." He stopped for a moment, looking to the wilting parchment in Fenris's hand, "These are good folk here. They'd never sell out any of us. And Triss…" He nodded towards the letter. "She really is trying to help… She always is."

Fenris stared for a moment and grumbled inwardly, handing the boy all the remaining coin he had. The boy stared at it, and before he turned, he looked up to the elf again. "You have to trust her… She's been through more than most of us…" And he turned away, walking towards his cot. Fenris sighed and started towards the ladder to the deck.