Fenris
Elf
You will probably want to hurt someone when you read this, so please leave Kirkwall before you start glowing.
The reason I disturbed your slaughter of slavers, is because Hawke is dead. Not to piss you off even more, but; it was at the hands of blood mages; Warden blood mages. They let our old friend Corypheus get into their heads and make them think they were all about to kick it.
They let a magister trick them into trying to summon a demon army. I know you cared about Hawke; even if you tried to hide behind all that brooding, but he died a hero and everyone is coming home for his funeral. Hope to see you there.
Varric
The dwarf had been right on two accounts: The first; he had cared about Hawke, the man was worthy of respect and his first ever real friend. The second; he had really needed to kill something after reading the letter.
For three days he had tracked the slavers caravan. For three days he had stalked them, past villages and towns, watched as they gathered their product and after he witnessed the death of a young girl; who had been so frightened, she had been unable to stop crying. He would wait no longer. He felt his rage burn within him, it still bubbled and frothed like a storm ridden sea, he could not avenge his friend; but he could make these men wish they had never been born.
He stood from his hiding place within the bushes and strode in the direction on the camp. The man he assumed was the leader stood up and approached the mouth of the camp. "Look here boys. A willing recruit, slap the chains on him and toss him in with the rest." Fenris felt he both anger and joy well within. The man leading the group was not only a Tevinter; but also a mage.
Fenris allowed the first man to get close, he waited until his was inches from snapping the manacles around his wrists; he felt his skin ignite in both pain and light. The lyrium etched into his skin illuminated the warrior in a ghostly light and allowed him to do things no ordinary warrior could do.
The was dead within seconds, as Fenris reached into his chest and crushed the man's heart with a very audible boom. The slavers were so taken aback by the elf's attack, that they failed to react in time before he had cut down three more of their members. Fenris clashed with a brute of a man wielding a massive hammer forged of red steel and eager for the elf's blood.
Fenris parried a heavy strike with his own great blade, to most men; the blade was nothing special, a greatsword with a fire rune embedded within perhaps, but the way Fenris held this blade, the way he ensured nothing nicked or chipped the blade; told an entire different tale. In his hands, he held a Blade of Mercy; it stood for his defiance against the man he had once called Master, but it stood for something much more now. It was a symbol of the trust and friendship Hawke had given him, he would forever wield this blade as a token to his now fallen friend.
The brute pressed and pressed, eager to break Fenris; but the elf held his ground until his enemy left a hole in his guard wide enough for him exploit. Knocking the hammer away from his opponent's body, he quickly drove the pommel of the blade hard into the human's face. The big man staggered back and allowed Fenris to follow up, he dropped low and kicked the man's feet out from under him. The man had little time to cry out, as before his back hit the floor; Fenris turned his blade over and drove the tip down into the falling foe and pinned the man to the ground.
Fenris panted heavily, but he was not done. He turned his gaze onto the last remaining man; the mage stood there, his face drained of all colour and his knees shaking. Fenris sneered at the man and was sure he would have fought back; instead the man fell to his knees and begged for his life.
Fenris could not hide his disgust for the man, he released his hold of the sword and began walking towards the mage; who looked and gave the elf a mad smile. His back arched, a silent scream escaped his throat, his skin began to burn and his body began to grow into an unnatural and grotesque form. Fenris cursed to the Maker for his foolishness, rats always turned to bite when backed into a corner.
The creature staring back at him; eyes full of fear and rage, was no longer human. The mage, who had been afraid of death at his hands; had turned to the forbidden and in doing so, had given up their right to exist in Fenris' eyes. The creature let loose a noise; that was somewhere between a growl and a scream. The creature with it's twisted body and eyes filled with too much life for such a creature; would chill the blood of any being who came across it, but Fenris had encountered such beings multiple times and was more angry than afraid.
He lunged for his blade; only for a wall of flame to erupt between him and the blade. The abomination tilted its head at him, in what he could only guess was a smile. The creature began moving; an unnatural shuffle, akin to that of a man trying to move in clothes too small for him. The creature drew close and conjured fire onto its claws; fingers did not fit the long and gangly appendages. It charged at the elf, intent to rend the flesh from his bones.
Fenris ignited the lyrium and waited for the creature to pass through him; it was then that he noticed something was off about the abomination, it was intent on him; instead it aimed for the caravan filled with would - be slaves. His body reacted before he could form the a clear thought, he put himself between the slaves and possessed mage. His face distorted with pain; as the creature's claws dug into the flesh of his arms. He pushed back against the creature, his strength being outmatched by the unnatural power of the demon within the mage.
He felt his muscles straining and the wounds on his arms screaming in agony, he would be able to hold the creature off and protect the prisoners, he formed a plan in his mind and with all the strength he could muster; pushed the abomination back. He quickly turned and broke the lock of the cage. "Run now!" He charged at the demon and tackled it to the ground; he felt it resisting and struggling against his grip, he could hear its guttural cries as it swiped at his chest; barely scratching the obsidian armour.
He raised his right hand and willed the lyrium to ignite, recognition registered in the creature's eyes and it doubled its efforts to get free; now employing magic into its strikes. Fenris struggled to maintain his grip and focus on the precision strike he needed, suddenly he felt a great force strike his chest; sending him reeling through the air. He landed inches from his blame; the flame liking at his blood - stained white hair. He groaned at the pain to stand and was shocked when both the pain stopped and the flames around his blade were extinguished.
He looked up to see two small children; no older ten. Each channeling mana and casting spells. A young boy with crisp blue eyes and reddish hair; channelled magic into the wound on his back, while a young girl with the same hair and eyes; produced a cone of ice from her hands and onto the flames. He felt sick at needing help from mages, but he thanked the two children none the less. He removed his sword from the ground, just in time to deflect a ball of fire thrown at him and the children.
The creature leaned forward and roared at the warrior, but Fenris just sneered at the demon and charged; his blade lowered to strike. The demon took his challenge and charged at the elf; flames engulfing its claws.
Two met with the clash of steel and stone hard flesh. They each matched each other's strikes and countered each with ease, but the demon was beginning to waiver; it was new to this world and could not match a seasoned warrior like Fenris. Knowing it was going to lose at this rate, the creature tossed a ball of fire at the ground; sending the warrior back onto his ground.
Fenris pulled himself up to see the abomination attempting to flee into distance. He was about to let such a creature escape, grasping his sword firmly in his hand, he took off after the demon.
He was not sure how long he had lay there, next to the dead monstrosity, when a small group of humans blocked the Sun from his eyes and carried his weary body away. He was carried back to the site of his battle with slavers, where he saw they had been stripped of all their gear and passed around. They welcomed him as their hero, he who had saved them from a life of slavery, he found that the two mage children had followed after him when he chased after the demon. He just shrugged off their thanks; he did not care for it. "I did this not for your benefit. A friend of mine would have never forgiven for letting them get away with it."
He parted ways with the group; after giving them directions to the city of Starkhaven. They asked him to come with them, he declined; he had to attend to something important back in Kirkwall. They wished him well and parted ways with their saviour, he began the long and lonely walk back to Kirkwall; but he felt at peace. Hawke may have been gone, but he was never forgotten. His friend would live on in the actions of those who had cared for him; Fenris would ensure no man, woman or child suffered a life of slavery because of the path Hawke had carved for this world.
Hawke was gone but he had left Fenris with something the elf had not had in a long time. A purpose of his own and the freedom to choose his own path.
( A.N ) So this one was filled with a bit more action, but come on did you really think I would right the best and most badass elf in all of Thedas as crying emotional wreck? NEVER! Besides, Fenris does kind of get emotional, if you count murderous intent as an emotion. Anyway, Isabela and Anders are the next two. Hope you enjoyed. Bu-bye!