The stone-shod roadways and shadowed alleys of Kirkwall were cloaked in darkness, the night sky offering little guidance to those brave enough to venture beyond torch-lit safety. The few stars still clinging to the great expanse above remained hidden behind the humble stonework of the city’s climbing spires and shingled roofs.

Fenris, melancholic and overcast, clad in contrasting ebony leathers and alabaster tattoos, strode silently through the city's maze of corridors, his narrow eyes and pointed ears perpetually scanning the dim silhouettes of the street. Behind this gaze roiled a torrential storm of painful history and unspeakable suffering, a veritable hurricane of cataclysmic fury and crushing loneliness.

And so he strode, dourly unaware that his world was about to collide with you - you who would challenge his worldview, and his heart, in ways his journey had never prepared him for.

“Watch where you’re going.” His deep voice hissed with a note of distain.