IC: Boar Hunting

[maleborgia]

*Camp's a farm, right? And you know what farms have? Pigs.

The ones in Camp are a little... different from the cute, not-by-the-hair-on-my-chinney-chin-chin ones some of you might be more familiar with, however...

One way or another, it's clearly the time for a boar hunt. Clearly. And somewhere away from the center of Camp are two people on horses looking to do just that.*

Comments

[fistingthing]

[If wolves could raise an eyebrow . . . ]

Imagine a dog who stands to the bottom of your ribcage and has more body mass than you and I combined.

[sharpasafawkes]

Right, worse than a Great Dane, good to know.

[fistingthing]

They are intimidating beasts to face in battle, but fierce allies to have by your side. And said to be as intelligent as many humans, though truly, that says little.

[sharpasafawkes]

[Looks like he's about to start on something, but holds back.]

[fistingthing]

They also originated in Tevinter, the experiments of a magister, the same as myself.

[sharpasafawkes]

They never tried the tattoos on anyone else?

[fistingthing]

There are a very few. Lyrium, as I told you before, is more costly than gold, and even diamonds. And the ritual is not well understood. I understand that Danarius had attempted to create others before; I was merely the only one unfortunate enough to survive. Other magisters have on occasion also successfully created a warrior such as myself, but we remain exceedingly rare. It takes great wealth and power to even attempt it.

[sharpasafawkes]

Couldn't they dilute it with other materials? You'd think if they're such fine, upstanding sorts they'd try to cut a corner or two.

[fistingthing]

It was mixed with ink to create these tattoos, but the amount necessary was still great. You cannot 'cut corners' on magic, not if you hope to have it succeed. Using more ink and less lyrium would result in a less powerful - [and Fenris bares his fangs and snarls the next word] - pet, if the ritual even succeeded at all.

[sharpasafawkes]

Trust me, that's never stopped people from trying idiotic things like that before...

[fistingthing]

[Fenris shrugs as best as a wolf can] And perhaps that is why the others Danarius attempted died.

[sharpasafawkes]

My heart bleeds for the bastard.

[fistingthing]

[If wolves could smirk . . .]

His heart bled as well, never fear.

[sharpasafawkes]

[urging his horse to go a little faster at the sign of broken foliage]

So good to know the story has a happy ending.

[fistingthing]

I wouldn't say it was 'happy' - but he is dead, and I no longer have to fear hunters sent from Tevinter to return me to slavery. That is enough for now.

[Fenris begins to pay 'studious' attention to the scent trail he is following.]

[sharpasafawkes]

[If I could pet your little fuzzy head, I would.]

And that's certainly something. What else can you tell about the pig, aside from unsavory comparisons to humanity?

[fistingthing]

[If you did, you'd end up with teeth in your wrist. Sry. Fenris gives a growling chuckle.]

The beast came through here not too long ago. There's a smell like canine blood; I think it's driven off most of the dogs.

[sharpasafawkes]

Good, that hopefully means it's wounded enough so it won't be trouble.

You know, you've never mentioned what those markings do, care to give me a hint, or is that a surprise?

[fistingthing]

They do many things. Increase my strength and stamina, afford me a certain degree of resistance to the forces of magic, and grant some unique . . . abilities.

[sharpasafawkes]

Really, like what?

[fistingthing]

[Flickers begin to crawl through the markings, then with a burst of blue-white light, the wolf is replaced with the ghost of a wolf, eerily glowing form indistinct and difficult to see clearly, the markings flared brighter than the rest. Where Fenris once pushed through the bracken, the bracken now pushes through him.]

[sharpasafawkes]

... and yet you haven't gone into robbery, think you made a wrong choice there.

[fistingthing]

[After a moment, Fenris fades back into solidity and snorts.] How do you think I got the coin to hire Hawke to help me in the first place? I certainly couldn't get a job. I've long paid for my bread through theft and the contents of dead men's pouches.

[sharpasafawkes]

But never anything else? You could get a nice sum from robbing houses.

[fistingthing]

On occasiona, I did, but I have no desire to enrich myself at the cost of others; I took only what I needed to get by, from those who could afford to aid me. [He makes a low, derisive sound.] Most likely it was the first and last time many of them rendered even unwilling assistance to an elf. I needed only what I required for food, weapon maintenance, and repairs to my armour.