Fenris by Oksana Kharitonova, freelance 2D artist
(Source: https://aira_gitt.artstation.com/ )
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Cleaning the Streets... One Last Time...
The Mage/Templar conflict is heating up. Isabella is gone. Hawke & Fenris are back together. It feels like the powder keg that is the City-State of Kirkwall is about to blow.
And there are still thugs on the streets... Let's clean them up.
Catch the fun on my Twitch Channel or below the fold.
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My canon protagonists from Dragon Age:
- Elizabeth “Liz” Cousland-Theirin, ambitious Warden, warrior 🛡
- Garrett Hawke, dumb Champion, mage 🪄
- Kieran Trevelyan, clueless Inquisitor, rogue ⚔️
Liz is wondering why she agreed to meet these two idiots, Hawke had already too many drinks & Kieran is just very happy (and impressed) by them, big fanboy this one
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A Fenris x Hawke story
(Chapter 7)
Another step.
More insecure than the last.
Yet another step.
The days rose and fell like cataracts of frothing light, shaping and reshaping themselves.
There was no incandescent sun, its rising and falling to tell the tale. Only the everlasting, unending blackish prongs and turrets of the city in the churning sky, slashed against the tireless whirling of poisoned, ash-floating light.
Sometimes, it appeared indeed, that light was creeping into the wakening sky. Sometimes there was night. Sometimes there was day. And sometimes there was none.
Eyes, aloft and afloat, peered at Fenris gaunt outlines from under dark, shaded corners.
Watching. Gazing. Staring.
Approach him they did not. Spirits and demons alike. They merely observed him as the gray-faced wolves in the dark-green forests, ripe with wonder, had done.
After a while, an indefinite weariness clung to Fenris’ limbs as if he was dragging a cracked shell behind them.
And on walked Fenris, on the fissures of his being.
Over dried lakes, gaping with choking thirst. Through dells and dales dense with crumbling stone temples and wafting statues.
Through vast caves went Fenris, lush with blazing torches and orbits of light.
Forests there were, cold and abundant with stone stems and rock barks. Across a desert he wandered, twisters of sand spiraling into the sky and sucking pools of rimless waters. Chiseled balustrades and coned pavilions, hovering above the ground, their pieces scattered around. Bone-clattered cliffs and spirit-roamed ruins.
At times the sky was lustrous with burning flames, and otherwiles mere sparks streaked across it as glimpsed comets on the night sky.
And all the while, the airy, thinning nothingness and thickening wind were whisking around him, whip-lean and kingfisher-swift they flapped his limbs and lashed strands of Fenris’ pearl-dulled hair.
Through doors of flaming fire and up stairways of rippling water he went. Through doors next to the nodding of bushes crowned with iron-tipped flowers.
An old, forlorn battlefield brushing his ankles as if they remembered a long-lost brother returned, one of their own.
They murmured to him.
From afar, spirits and demons watched alike.
Did spirits battle their own kind? Some scholars said yes. Others no.
Was he becoming one of them?
A demon of rage?, some seemed to ask from the lurking shadows. A spirit of vengeance?
Of grief, Fenris thought.
He dragged his toes over the stone-shard ground.
Another step.
More insecure than the last.
Yet another step.
He called Hawke’s name no more into the hum-filled, smoking silence.
Keep reading on AO3
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Am I about to play Dragon Age II for the 110th time just because I've been reading too many FenrisxFemaleMageHawke lately?
You bet your sweet andrastrian ass I am.
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