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◇ III.
champions don't pout
[PHONE; unfiltered]

Ooh, abominations! And just as I was starting to get bored of it here. Excellent timing. Thank you kindly, Mayfield; this ought to keep me satisfied for a day or two... So, anyone care for a round of killing things? If a headshot is all it takes to take them down for good, it ought to be fun. Fenris? [a beat] Anders, too. It'll be like old times!

Anyone who isn't interested, I suggest you stay inside, board up the windows, whatever you can do to keep the big uglies out. I'm also taking requests for daring rescues!

[ACTION; Beaver Street or wherever]

[Alternatively, you can find Hawke outside, killing zombies with a pair of kitchen knives in her hands and her faithful mabari by her side. For the most part, she's sticking to Beaver Street, if just so she can keep her house safe and have somewhere to crash if she gets tired later. It's all business as usual until she bumps into her "husband," the zombie!drone formerly known as Varric Tethras.

For anyone observing, it takes her longer than usual to kill this one -- she's hesitating, because killing a zombie in the image of your best bro is difficult, even for the Champion of Kirkwall. Hawke does eventually give in and take him out, destroying the brain.

She just... stares down at his corpse somberly while her dog whines and licks her hand.]

It's all right, boy. That wasn't really him. [woof!] Come along, then; there's work yet to be done.

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Heh, I know, right? The town actually gave us something easy that people can just go and kill if they know what they're doing.

One has to admit, it's a nice change of pace from poison milk and locking everyone up in strange brothels. Not so much fun for the less combat-inclined, sadly, but I suppose they can't please everyone.

Don't see why not. It's not like you need to be a genius to fight zombies. You just go out and beat their heads in. Done and done.

It seems a simple enough task, yes, but I've heard of people dying at the hands of these creatures. They may be stronger than we think.

Eh. Guess so.

Still take this over the worst the town has done.

I'm inclined to agree -- though I get the feeling I haven't seen the worst this place has to offer. That makes me lucky, I suppose.

No. You haven't.

You ought to hope you never do.

Phone, switching to Action

You say that as though headshots are something easily managed, Hawke. I at least am still unarmed. [Still, there's a trace of amusement in his tone. Fighting the undead with Hawke is very much like their adventures back in Thedas, and Hawke's familiar sarcasm just makes it feel even more homelike. It's comforting, in an odd way.]

Try not to get in too much trouble before I get there.

[And he does arrive some time later, wielding the closest thing he could find in heft and reach to a two-handed sword lying around in his garage - a shovel. If it weren't for the force with which Fenris is capable of swinging it, it wouldn't be terribly deadly, but he's a strong and very angry elf, and it's already splattered with gore. He greets Hawke with a nod.]

There appears to be no end to the things.

A little bit of a challenge only adds to the fun, don't you think? I'm unarmed as well, so we'll have to get by with what we have.

[When Fenris arrives, Hawke greets him with a smile and a wave -- as well as a chuckle, once she spots the shovel in his hand.]

Interesting weapon choice. Whatever works, hm? [pause] And they all seemed to show up out of nowhere... I wonder where they're coming from.

[Fenris shrugs, smirking slightly.] A pity. In Kirkwall, we could hardly go half an hour without finding weapons lying around. Mayfield is...less hospitable. [He adjusts his grip on the shovel.] To say the least.

It's enough to make one miss our fair old city. All this is as good a treatment for homesick as any, however. It's been far too long since I've had to fight off masses of horrible monsters.

Do not take this lightly, Champion. These... creatures... have already killed more than a few people.

Worry not, Knight-Commander. I'm very good at not dying. And they seem to go down easily enough, besides.

That wasn't what I meant. What I mean is that some of these shambling abominations used to be people. The least you could do is show them some respect.

I was aware of that, yes, thank you. [There's a subtle, irritated edge to her tone. i mean it's not like my mom got turned into a zombie before she died or anything] Putting them out of their misery, assuring that they would return to normal in the morning, is showing plenty of respect, I think.

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