WALKING CANVAS
A Fenris/OFC FanfictioN
By
Viperqueen13
Author's Note: Any character apart from my original creations belong and are created by the team at Bioware and EA Games
*PROLOGUE: DAMSEL*
Darktown, Night
Mia was trapped.
What was meant to be a simple walk home from the bazaar in Lowtown, turned into an ambush by several bandits. Even more unfortunate for her, the Steel Gauntlets had a penchant for attacking young women, and very rarely did they ever walk away alive.
The leader of the Steel Gauntlets, an overweight ex-Templar going by the nickname Scar, had begun to inch towards Mia with a rusty dagger, whilst a couple of Rogue Archers silently made towards blocking all possible exits.
"Now, now girlie, there's no need to run," Scar drawled, "we're all friends here. Just give us ya silver, and we'll let you on your merry way, won't we lads?"
"I-I can't!" Mia stammered, "I don't have single coin in my purse!"
The ex-Templar tutted mockingly. "Such a shame. I'm upset, and lots of people don't end up sticking around when I get upset." He then added with a sadistic grin, "Still, perhaps there's something we can sort out?"
The remainder of the Steel Gauntlets started to close in, several of them with a creepy glint in their eyes. Mia took a step back, only to find herself greeted with a corner and no way out.
"W-what are you-?"
"You'll find out soon enough." Scar whispered softly, licking his lips. "Hold her down boys, I'm going to enjoy this..."
Two Rogues grabbed Mia's arms. Just as a third made to gag the young woman he stopped dead in his tracks. Scar growled with impatience, freezing midway to his belt and pants.
"What's the hold-up!? Don't tell me ya decided to grow a conscience- hey, what the-?"
The bandit Scar grabbed quickly fell to the ground, a bloody bolt sticking out of his chest and skull. Suddenly, a shower of arrows darkened the sky and began to pierce both ground and enemy flesh, couple of the Steel Gauntlet dying instantly on impact. Without even a second to draw his weapon, Scar was pinned to the ground by an unknown assailant, a Blade of Mercy gleaming near his throat. The attacker turned to Mia, who was cowering with fear.
"Go! If you value your life, run!"
As a way of response, a Miasmic Flask shattered the ground out of nowhere, stunning the Rogue Archers guarding the nearest exit so Mia could escape. Another voice called out to her.
"Get to safety quickly! The Hanged Man is your best chance, now hurry!"
Scar could not do anything but stare at the man that was crushing his chest, livid with rage. Not that it was another Human that kicked his arse, but of all people, it was a knife-eared bastard of an Elf.
He was tanned, with short silver hair and piercing green eyes, and tattoos that glowed bright as a star in what little light Darktown had. For an Elf he was tall, and whilst thin he was strong and agile, which attributed to taking down Scar with little effort.
"Do not struggle, Human." he hissed, "One wrong move, and the shadows will pierce you like your friends."
Rather than accepting defeat, Scar had somehow managed to grab a handful of dirt and threw it into the Elf's eyes, distracting him enough so the ex-Templar could shove him off and make for the nearest weapons he could find, which was an old longsword and a small battered shield studded with arrows. But he barely made for the shield when a large foot stomped down hard on his stubby fingers, and a modified automatic crossbow pointed at his forehead.
"Y'know," came the owner of the curious-looking weapon, "I gotta admit, ya got some major stones to fight dirty, what with your comrades dead, and no decent weapon in site; that, or just plain stupid. Still, it seems gangs aren't the same as they used to be, huh Fenris?" this last part added to the Elf, who was silently brooding at being on the end of a cheap trick. The soliloquy came from the mouth of a Dwarf, draped in furs, thick gloves and blond hair tied back in a ribbon to broadcast his silver tongue more clearly to the world around him. He made to re-strap his crossbow to his back as the one named Fenris clubbed Scar with the pummel of his sword, knocking him unconscious.
"Pity," he spoke softly, "It seems that you managed to have all the fun yet again, Varric. All I seem to have done is squash one little bug." Varric gave a sly smile in response.
"And yet, like real bugs, someone has to play Exterminator in this neck of the woods. And make sure that your ass remains intact." he then added with a chuckle.
"Mental image noted, friend," Fenris mumbled, then proceeded to loot the surrounding bodies for items that were not damaged by Varric Tethras' arrows, "Kirkwall; ten years since the downfall of Meredith, and yet here we are, right back to before we had our lives changed forever by the so-called 'Champion of Kirkwall'. Who would've thought that places like Darktown would still be standing after the Great War?"
Varric remained silent for a moment, reflecting tainted memories that had haunted his dreams since the war began.
"We lost a lot of people during the war, many we care about. Isabela, Sebastian, Carver, even..." he trailed off briefly, realizing that he said too much. Fenris had briefly paused just as he was about to mention the Champion's name, which no longer held warmth and affection, but instead a dagger of grief and regret. Quickly, Varric slapped on a grin and attempted to change the subject.
"Anyway, let's grab what we can and head to the Hanged Man for a pint, my shout. Whaddya say?"
Fenris just nodded. He picked the few coins and potions that were salvageable and made his way towards the exit to Lowtown. He was almost there, when he thought he saw something move in the shadows; something shrouded in dark, with a brief flash of yellow, and just as quickly it disappeared. Were Fenris and Varric being watched? Or stalked as prey?