.iii.
Today's haul has been good. Clarence has been out all day begging, and he has gathered a sizable fistful of coin. He's counting it out, wondering how much rotgut it will get him, when the Champion of Kirkwall rounds the corner, walking with purpose. Ah! He knows her, she always spares him several silvers, and he doesn't even have to launch into the sad (and heavily falsified) story of how his entire family died in the Blight. Well meaning girl, always kind, always wishing the Maker's blessing on him, and giving the coin to back up her words unlike those pretentious Chantry sisters who turn their noses up at him. Granted, they know what he does with the money and she doesn't... With her contributions, he just might manage ale tonight, maybe brandy if he really works for it. He begins to stir from behind his crate, with the intent of asking her for her kindness and generosity once again when a discomforting feeling settles on his shoulders. He knows this feeling well. Sixth sense, some call it. The one that lets you know when you'd better start running. It's saved his life countless times before, and he's not about to risk defying his intuition, even for the Champion's coin, so he slinks back into the shadows, watching quietly.
It isn't surprising when a group of masked men emerge from what seems to be thing air, circling her silently. She stops mid stride, assessing them. He can only see her shoulders from his vantage point, but he can read her movements, the squaring of shoulders, the angling of her hands. She mutters a surprisingly vile curse under her breath.
He knows a hopeless fight when he sees one. She's outnumbered at least 20 to one. He considers running to get one of her infamous companions. The pretty boy healer that runs the clinic in Darktown, maybe? He might even get a reward for his heroism. However, fleeing isn't really an option for either of them; he's sure to be spotted if he makes a move now, and they have her completely fenced in, these masked thugs with matching uniforms adorned with blue marks. One steps forward, apparently the leader.
"Well, are you going to attack me, or are we going to stand here all night staring at each other?"
She is met with complete and utter silence. All he can hear is his own breathing and the sloshing of waves.
"Perhaps I could get you to reconsider? I never was much good at staring contests."
The leader finally responds, raising one gloved fist slowly, leveling it with his head. The Champion braces herself, bright purple lighting crackling around her own fists.
"I don't know who you are but-" She is cut short by the nauseating sound of arrow puncturing flesh. Staggering with the force of the blow, she looks at the projectile protruding from her bicep, and back at the leader. Never breaking the gaze, she reaches over and snaps the arrow with a small hiss and whimper of pain through gritted teeth, and drops it. And then, with a force he cannot see, she lifts five of the group, including the leader, up clear off the ground, and slams them back down with the telling crunch of breaking bones. Despite this, none of the others still standing move. She moves to dispatch the rest of them, summoning blue wisps of spirit to her fingers when the magic flickers and dies on her fingertips. She stumbles, staring at her hands.
"What-what did you-" her words are slurred, and she fights to stay upright. Another fight with insurmountable odds, it seems. She fumbles with her unresponsive hands, trying to grab her staff, and pulls it weakly over her shoulder, tearing an amulet from her neck. The chain snaps, and ti bounces to the ground, and rolling off into an alley way while she struggles, disappearing behind a crate. Whatever they've done to her takes full affect, and she drops to the ground, paralyzed, unblinking eyes wide with fear, darting over the figures approaching her.
The unwounded gather her up as her mouth faintly twitches, trying to speak. As quickly and quietly as they'd arrived they disappear into the night, leaving no evidence of the short altercation. Nothing except...
As soon as he's sure they're gone, he streaks into the alley and gropes in the dark on the ground. It takes time, but he eventually finds the amulet, bearing the Amell family crest. He tucks it in his pocket and hobbles off into the night. Treasure like that is bound to get him some good coin. Chance of reward outweighed by the value of the jewelry in his hands, he leaves.
(Note: I'm spamming the first couple chapters for you guys, so you don't get bored. I promise it'll pick up soon:3)