Chapter 2: Pursuit
Fenris clenched his jaw and ground his teeth in frustration. If he was the paranoid type, and perhaps he was, he would think that Danarius knew of his presence and was actively trying to keep him in the dark. Gossip was the national past time in Tevinter. No detail was too small and no person was too unimportant to escape mention in the busy marketplaces, let alone one of the richest and most powerful magisters in the city. Fenris remembered many times in the past, Danarius had but to stand outside a shop or wave to a passerby and he would learn of the latest scandal or hear some new bit of dirt on a rival.
He had wandered the docks for days, haunting shop stalls, doing odd jobs for coin and attempting to make idle conversation with those who hired him. He hated idle conversation. He had even gone to the slave markets to see if he could catch a glimpse of anyone he remembered associating with Danarius. Not only did he not see anyone of note, but he had to fight the urge to pull his sword and start swinging out of sheer disgust.
Fenris walked quickly down the street, darting in and out of the mobs of people all hurrying home in the quickly fading sunlight. He paused just outside the Sword and Sovereign Inn. This was the third place Fenris had taken a room since he arrived, not wanting to stay in one place too long. He studied the scene outside the inn briefly to assure no one was observing or following him, and he went inside. It was just starting to get busy and there was a comfortable hum of noise; just enough to conceal any private conversations. He found the dwarf he was looking for sitting alone in a corner away from the bar. Fenris slid through the crowd and sat at the dwarf's table.
"You better have something for me today, Corbin. If you can't pay me with any useful information, I'm going to physically shake out whatever coin you have on your person and take that as payment." Fenris spoke in a low threatening growl. He had met the dwarf on board the ship. He asked Fenris to provide "protection services" during a business transaction when they arrived. This meant he was going to sell something stolen and didn't want to get killed over a shady deal in a back alley. Corbin told him he didn't really trust human mercenaries. Plus, he added, Fenris had a very big sword. Fenris agreed on the terms that the dwarf would provide him with any information he could get from loitering around the dwarven merchants guild. A menacing looking elf with a large sword would not go unnoticed there; but it was one of the best places in Minrathous to have a spy. Unfortunately much like his own attempts at reconnaissance, Corbin kept coming up empty.
"No need to get violent Elf, I do have something, but I'm not sure why any of this is of interest to you."
"Just tell me what you know and I'll decide if it is of interest or not" Fenris was getting impatient. He did not want to be seen speaking with any one person too often or for too long.
"I was talking with one of my fences…er, um…associates," Fenris rolled his eyes at that, but the dwarf continued. "and he mentioned buying some merchandise from a slaver ring passing through here from Antiva City. They complained to him that their stock was a little low because they spent some time in Ferelden on a hunting job. They were trying to pull in the bounty for a rich magister's lost property. Apparently the trail went cold, but they were selling off what they had for enough coin to pick up the pursuit again. It was a high bounty they said, enough to make it worth a second attempt. If you're after the same bounty, Elf, I would think about recruiting some partners. High bounty means high risk." Corbin took a long swig of the ale in front of him, all the while eyeing Fenris expectantly, hoping this was enough information to get out of the elf's debt.
Fenris' fists clenched under the table. He fought to control his facial expression as he coolly replied, "If these slavers are still in the city and you can tell me where to find them, we're even".
"I was hoping you'd say that. They've been spending their nights down at the brothel near the foundry district. You know the one, the Iron Lady"
"We're even", Fenris said and he slid his chair back, making to leave, when he hit something behind him. Someone actually.
"Corbin, you rank thief, you owe me five sovereigns…umph!" Fenris had backed his chair over a woman who had suddenly appeared at their table. He artfully slipped to the side avoiding coming into contact with her falling form, and she clumsily toppled over the back of the chair. Fenris spared her only a brief glance before he walked directly out of the tavern, no apologies offered.
xxxx
"Corbin, you rank thief, you own me five sovereigns…umph!" Hawke's feet were pushed out from under her and she fell forward on the offending chair. She noticed she did not fall forward onto its previous occupant. The man who caused her fall maneuvered out of her way just in time, and though they did not touch, they passed so close to each other she was sure she felt something. Or did she smell something? Or taste it in the air around him? She sniffed the air and twisted her head to look at him, but he was already gone. She was left feeling oddly...stimulated.
She righted herself and sat down in front of the dwarf. She was slightly put off. Not only was it rude for him to move and let her fall, but he didn't even apologize. And what was that feeling? Certain spells always left her with a prickly sensation but he certainly did not look like a mage, but then neither did she. She rarely trusted appearances. Still, there was something vaguely tingling of magic left in the space he had occupied. It seemed familiar and foreign at the same time.
"Who was your friend Corbin?" She asked as she reached for the dwarf's ale and took a sip.
"Oh, no one, just another merc looking for work. And I do not owe you five sovereigns. You cheated."
Hawke eyed the dwarf suspiciously. Of course he wouldn't tell her. He owed her coin, not information. Information was always worth more than coin. "We both cheated. I was simply better at it. You should never play cards drunk. No honor among thieves and all that." He reluctantly passed the five sovereigns across the table and Hawke scooped it up with a satisfied smile.
"Do you have another job tonight? You seem to get more work than any of these other sorry sods. Who is hiring you?"
Hawke tried not to sound offended by that last question. He wasn't the first person to underestimate her and he wouldn't be the last. He wouldn't even be the last tonight. Let him think she was doing mercenary work. Let him think she was working in a brothel for all she cared. She just stood, shrugged her shoulders and left him sitting alone with his ale.
She sighed as she stepped outside under the now rapidly darkening sky. It was still humid, the air thick around her, but it was preferable to the daylight hours. She strolled slowly down the street, wondering what trouble she could cause tonight. Hawke smiled to herself as she ran through the list of "jobs" that had kept her busy these past nights. She chose to think of it as community service. On the first evening of her new endeavor, she marched directly down to the slaver ship she had seen her very first night in the city. She was pleased to find it still docked. There was only a skeleton crew on board, and it was a simple thing to sneak aboard and slit each one of their slimy slaver throats. Amazingly, she found quite a bit of the gold they made scattered about the ship. She threw it all in the sea and with an apology whispered to her dead father, she allowed herself a bit of magic, and set the ship on fire. She laughed the whole way back to her bed that night.
Each night since then she managed to find something to do with her time. Frequently it was slaver-killing. Once, as she was wandering down alleys in one of the middle class districts she stumbled upon a small group of mages performing some blood magic ritual. She hadn't bothered to find out what they were doing exactly. She simply killed them, cut the bonds of the two elves cowering in the corner, and left satisfied. It wasn't all killing. She was a civilized, if self-loathing, mage. On a particularly miserable night in the rain, she passed by an elven boy huddled under a shop awning nursing his left arm. She stopped and asked if he needed help. It was clear his arm was broken. She couldn't bring herself to ask how it had happened. She was sure she did not want to know. She simply held her hand out and with a soft whisper of a touch, she healed it for him. Her healing skills were limited, but she could do that much at least. His eyes went wide, too frightened or too surprised to say anything and he just ran off. That had been enough for her that night and she went to bed content.
What will it be tonight, she thought. She kept a leisurely pace and her eyes moved among the people, the ships and the buildings around her. Bits of drunken songs and laughter floated in the air. Up ahead she saw a large group of people surrounding what looked like a street performer. The crowd was thick and blocked the square that cut across the path to the foundry district. She craned her neck to see if the performance would be over soon, but she was too short. Damn tall Northerners. She started skirting around the edge of the crowd to try to get past. She had to climb on and over the pedestal of a statue of some ugly old magister.
As she jumped down, she saw him. It was the man from the Inn. He was a few meters ahead, also trying to weave his way through the crowd. He looked to be about half a head taller than her, must be a northerner, wearing well made black leather armor, gauntlets that covered his fingers and tall black leather boots. Under the cowl he wore, she thought she caught a glimpse of large green eyes reflected in the light of the oil lamps lining the square. He had a massive greatsword strapped to his back. She struggled through the mass of people trying to keep him in sight. He moved like liquid, not at all like your typical greatsword-wielding mercenary. Her curiosity grew with each step and with each step her memory of the odd but not unpleasant sensation he sparked in her grew more vivid. He was heading in the direction of the foundry district and now, so was she.
