If the extreme saturation of the landscape isn't eerie enough, the crystalline shards had put him immediately on edge. The strange prickling seemed to creep into his skin, tingling faintly along the lines of Lyrium in a strange sensation quite unlike anything he's ever felt before. It both does and doesn't feel like magic, but it feels enough like it that it makes his skin crawl, enough to begin a dull, sickening twist in his stomach.
Perhaps he's dreaming, or - worse - perhaps he's somehow been trapped in the Fade, although even more alarming, Fenris can't remember at all how he might have gotten here. The Fade could wrap itself around different realities, shaped by the minds of those around it. Perhaps all he needed to do was to find whoever was conjuring such a disturbing place and deal with them, one way or another...
But the dryness in his throat doesn't seem to fit. The terrible longing for thirst and the ravenous hunger that's overcome his discomfort of the thought of magic becomes worse the more he wanders.
A sharp prick on his arm draws his attention, and then another. He hisses, only just catching the flicker of a crystalline insect as it buzzes away from his skin. Fenris rubs irritably at the spot, not noticing the mark that follows, raised and foreign.
He trudges on a few more paces before the whispers begin in his ear. Low, almost too distant to notice at first, but soon enough they grow louder, louder until it's clear enough for him to make out the words. A voice, laced with a familiar lascivious cruelty purrs seemingly from just at his back-
"Well well, if it isn't my little Fenris..."
The marks in his skin blaze to life, a shimmering, white-hot blue flashing as he whirls. Muscle memory has the greatsword pulled from his back nearly effortlessly in a sweeping arch, ready to cut through the man he'd heard-
A flash of a face, dark eyes and a twisted grin, and then...nothing.
There's nothing and no one there. Fenris swallows thickly, heart beating fast and thick in his throat. He looks around wildly, knuckles white.
"How little you know, my pet." The voice coos, multiplies, echoes in unison, and he stares in disbelief as multiple figures of Danarius encircle him, slowly stepping closer and closer.
"You're dead..." he hisses, eyes narrowing, shoulders tense as he adjusts his grip on the hilt. Then, lightning fast, he launches himself at the nearest shadow of his former master.
"But I will gladly kill you again, as many times as it takes-!"
[ Action Force: G ]
It's all too much for him to comprehend at once. His wariness had given way to aggressiveness as the people who had found him begin to come to close, to prod and touch and invade, clear in their intent to take whatever they want from him, to treat him as an object of study without his consent.
No. Not again. Never again--
Fenris doesn't even get the chance to fight for his freedom this time. A sudden shock at the back of his neck sends a cold, creeping sensation down his spine. The sword clatters to the ground seconds before he collapses, a promise of death and pain in his eyes before darkness overtakes him.
He wakes an indeterminable amount of time later - hours, at least, stripped of armor and weapons, but noticeably unbound. The bunk is narrow, even for his slim frame, but even moreso given that another body occupies it with him. Still sluggish from the effects of the drug, it takes him a few moments to shift away from his bedmate, struggling to sit up to get a look through blurred vision. A cloying, sweet smell becomes nearly too much after a few breaths, doing little for the pounding headache.
Fenris | Dragon Age | overflow + open to new
If the extreme saturation of the landscape isn't eerie enough, the crystalline shards had put him immediately on edge. The strange prickling seemed to creep into his skin, tingling faintly along the lines of Lyrium in a strange sensation quite unlike anything he's ever felt before. It both does and doesn't feel like magic, but it feels enough like it that it makes his skin crawl, enough to begin a dull, sickening twist in his stomach.
Perhaps he's dreaming, or - worse - perhaps he's somehow been trapped in the Fade, although even more alarming, Fenris can't remember at all how he might have gotten here. The Fade could wrap itself around different realities, shaped by the minds of those around it. Perhaps all he needed to do was to find whoever was conjuring such a disturbing place and deal with them, one way or another...
But the dryness in his throat doesn't seem to fit. The terrible longing for thirst and the ravenous hunger that's overcome his discomfort of the thought of magic becomes worse the more he wanders.
A sharp prick on his arm draws his attention, and then another. He hisses, only just catching the flicker of a crystalline insect as it buzzes away from his skin. Fenris rubs irritably at the spot, not noticing the mark that follows, raised and foreign.
He trudges on a few more paces before the whispers begin in his ear. Low, almost too distant to notice at first, but soon enough they grow louder, louder until it's clear enough for him to make out the words. A voice, laced with a familiar lascivious cruelty purrs seemingly from just at his back-
"Well well, if it isn't my little Fenris..."
The marks in his skin blaze to life, a shimmering, white-hot blue flashing as he whirls. Muscle memory has the greatsword pulled from his back nearly effortlessly in a sweeping arch, ready to cut through the man he'd heard-
A flash of a face, dark eyes and a twisted grin, and then...nothing.
There's nothing and no one there. Fenris swallows thickly, heart beating fast and thick in his throat. He looks around wildly, knuckles white.
"How little you know, my pet." The voice coos, multiplies, echoes in unison, and he stares in disbelief as multiple figures of Danarius encircle him, slowly stepping closer and closer.
"You're dead..." he hisses, eyes narrowing, shoulders tense as he adjusts his grip on the hilt. Then, lightning fast, he launches himself at the nearest shadow of his former master.
"But I will gladly kill you again, as many times as it takes-!"
[ Action Force: G ]
It's all too much for him to comprehend at once. His wariness had given way to aggressiveness as the people who had found him begin to come to close, to prod and touch and invade, clear in their intent to take whatever they want from him, to treat him as an object of study without his consent.
No. Not again. Never again--
Fenris doesn't even get the chance to fight for his freedom this time. A sudden shock at the back of his neck sends a cold, creeping sensation down his spine. The sword clatters to the ground seconds before he collapses, a promise of death and pain in his eyes before darkness overtakes him.
He wakes an indeterminable amount of time later - hours, at least, stripped of armor and weapons, but noticeably unbound. The bunk is narrow, even for his slim frame, but even moreso given that another body occupies it with him. Still sluggish from the effects of the drug, it takes him a few moments to shift away from his bedmate, struggling to sit up to get a look through blurred vision. A cloying, sweet smell becomes nearly too much after a few breaths, doing little for the pounding headache.
"Where...am I?"
[ Wildcard ]
Surprise me~