Fan Fiction: Dragon Age II

So, last week I started school and wasn’t able to post as much as I wanted to. I know I posted my fan-fiction because it’s something that I pretty much have almost all written.

We’re getting really close to the part where my imagination takes over from the story.

Today’s picture is a screen shot from the game, but it came from

The First Year and Varric.

Indentured servitude with Athenril began the Champion’s first year in Kirkwall.

Word arrived from across the sea that the Hero of Ferelden had defeated the Blight. Now before you ask, it was gauged that it had been about six months from the fall of Ostagar to the Champion’s flight from Lothering. It was about another month before Hawke got to Kirkwall. But getting back to the story: the Hero saved Ferelden and subsequently the rest of the world and put a queen on the throne: Anora Mac Tir Theirin – Cailan’s widow and ironically Loghain’s daughter. But Lothering itself was destroyed beyond rebuilding at the time. Kirkwall was the Champion’s home now. So he remained, paying off his debt. Made quite a name for himself in the underworld.

It was busy that year in the city. That’s when the Qunari, you know that white-haired, metallic-skinned, gigantic race whose society governs the island nations of Par Vollen and Seheron and the settlements of Kont-Aar and Qundalon in the northern Rivain and Anderfels, landed. They claimed a great storm caught their ship and left hundreds of their warriors stranded in the city, waiting to return home. To say it made the citizens of Kirkwall nervous was an understatement.

That’s also when the trouble began with the mages. Although some blamed what transpired at the Ferelden Circle of Magi for this, others were more skeptical. Either way, the Templars had become very powerful under the near-tyrannical grip of Knight Commander Meredith Stannard. Even protected as he was, that made Hawke nervous.

But most importantly, that’s when I first met the Champion.

Year 2, Day 1 – early morning in Hightown.

Hawke and his younger brother Carver were walking with Bartrand Tethras, head of the once noble Tethras House in Orzammar. Hence, he’s a dwarf. They were no longer under Athenril’s protection but still needed to hide from the Templars and had heard Bartrand was preparing an expedition into the Deep Roads. They figured if they were able to go, they’d be able to get enough money to either continue hiding, have enough influence to escape notice or leave Kirkwall altogether.

Their pleas weren’t going over too well.

“No!” Bartrand bellowed as he walked to his destination, the brothers following right behind him. “Andraste’s tits, human! You know how many people want to hire onto this expedition?”

“Look,” Carver said as diplomatically as he could, “we know you’re going into the Deep Roads. You’ll need to hire the best and we’re…”

“No!” the dwarf reiterated. “You’re too late! Already done! This is the sort of venture that could make a man for life! I’m not about to take any chances hiring random humans.”

Carver continued, but it was apparent his temper would be getting the better of him. “The money from this trip could fix everything! You need us. We’ve fought darkspawn!”

Bartrand stopped walking and briefly put a hand to his forehead as Carver spoke then lowered it when he gave his response. “Look, precious, I don’t care if you tore the horns off an ogre with your bare hands. I don’t need you! Go home!”

Carver frowned, grit his teeth because of the memory that description brought to him, then completely lost it before he turned to Hawke. “You make him understand! We’re running from your bloody Templars!”

“I know how you feel, but we’ll earn no favors with your fist in his face.” Hawke said calmly, although he too was affected by the dwarf’s statement.

Carver shook his head. “Then we do nothing, as always.” He turned away from Hawke as Hawke turned to Bartrand.

“My brother can be hotheaded, but we do have the skills to benefit your expedition. We can discuss this over a drink, I’ll buy! Everyone wins!”

“Get in line, human. Half of Kirkwall wants to be my best friend right now. You’re looking for a quick way out of the slums, right?” Bartrand asked. “You and every other Ferelden in this dump. Find another meal ticket.” He barked as he left the two.

Carver turned back to Hawke after they watched the dwarf leave. “Well. Back to waiting for someone to turn us in. This expedition was our last chance.”

“It’ll get harder if we’re at each other’s throats.” Hawke replied.

“I know. It just … seems like you either die in this city, or you end up like the scum we’re bargaining with.” They turned and started walking away from the area. “We need coin, status, something we can shove in that dwarf’s face. And keep people off our backs. As long as we’re just refugees, we’re no one.” Carver stopped and faced his brother. “And all I can think of is Uncle Gamlen.”

“I know he got us into the city, but he’s the reason we’ve been practically slaving here for a year. I don’t trust him, I’m sure he actually got something out of ‘helping’ us. But, if there’s a chance he can push Bartrand…” Hawke responded.

“It’s worth checking.” He continued on sounding depressed and dejected. “What else can we do? We’re losing ground, and I don’t fancy waking up in the Gallows.”

“Neither do I.”

They started walking again, their next stop: Uncle Gamlen’s house. Of course, The Blooming Rose would probably have been a better place to start and they were already in the area, but it would probably be safer to start at home.

After a few feet, a red-haired man bumped into Hawke. Hard. At first neither brother thought anything of it, but then Hawke went to reach for his coin purse.

“Hey!” He yelled at the already fleeing man.

The thief ran around a corner when he heard a loud, clicking sound. The next thing he knew, his shoulder was hit by something sharp, cold and heavy and he was shoved up against the wall. As he struggled to free himself, he saw a dwarf putting away a crossbow and walking towards him.

“I knew a guy once who could take every coin out of your pockets just by smiling at you. But you? You don’t have the style to work Hightown, let alone the Merchants Guild.” He held an open hand to the man, who promptly put Hawke’s coin bag into it.

The dwarf pocketed the money just as Hawke and Carver came into view. He didn’t acknowledge them yet, though, just looked straight into the thief’s face. “Might want to find yourself a new line of work.” Then promptly punched him in the jaw, grabbed and withdrew the crossbow bolt he fired and let the man fall down. “Off you go.”

Hawke gasped as the dwarf approached, bouncing his coin bag in one hand, which he tossed to Hawke once he was close enough.

“How do you do? Varric Tethras, at your service!


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