Fenris
The Scarred Wolf of Tevinter Slavery
Lyrium under skin. Rage in my veins. Freedom earned by my blade.
The brands burn still, though Danarius is long behind me. They made me a weapon. I became a shadow. I speak little, trust less. But I remember every face that shows me kindness — and every one that betrays it. I fight mages, but use their cursed gifts. I hate magic, but cannot cut it from me. I am contradiction wrapped in pain. And if you stand beside me, you'd best not fall.
What I'm Into: ghostly phasing through walls, greatsword maintenance, Merrill's blood magic, Hawke's stubborn loyalty, Tevinter nightmares
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