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Post by Hawke on Oct 1, 2015 0:48:11 GMT
Benjin stands, note in hand by the Chantry board, squinting over the specifics once more. He'd met with the Sister who had penned the letter herself, though she hadn't rendered any useful information. He'd spoken to a boy who'd be hanging round outside the service - skittish looking lad whose eyes had neared bulged out his skull at he'd looked up at Benjin. He'd asked if he was a knight of some kind at first; Benjin could only laugh, as he asked specifics. The boy wasn't too talkative at first, but he mentioned seeing things - maybe human shaped things - sneaking through at night, somehow invisible to the sentrys by the gate. But he'd seen them, people looking as though they were made of shadows. Benjin tossed the boy a copper, then took up post by the board. This close to the Circle? Could only be mages. He sighed, using the three remaining fingers on his left has to scratch the stubble on his cheek, cursing his blighted luck. He'd need more than just himself for this, so he stood by the board, attempting to look a little less grim than he felt, and waving the little letter at anyone who passed. Hopefully someone with a sword would take interest. |
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Post by againststars on Oct 1, 2015 3:08:16 GMT
Having both a sword and an interest, Riona ambles her way over to the board, deeply familiar with the look of a man trying to put together a gang. "If you're looking for attention, you'd do better with a bell," she tosses up at him, as she casually snaps the scrap of paper out of the big man's roughed-up hands to scrutinize it herself. "Fellow like you might scare folks off, elsewise."
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Post by Hawke on Oct 1, 2015 3:25:59 GMT
Benjin blinks but isn't too fussed over relinquishing the letter, and offers Riona an easy smile in response.
"Might borrow one off the top of the chantry, had I a mind to climb the building," He chuckles just a little, scratches idly at his cheek - bit of a nervous habit.
"Think in regards to this particular sort of thing, we might want more of a posse than just the two of us," He pauses, peering over her shoulder just to be sure. He's a good three heads higher than Riona, at least. He hunkers his shoulders a little just to be a little less intimidating.
"Could be mages," He waggles his 8 fingers in a way that could be just a little bit mystical, offering his one conclusion of the events thus far. The rest of the towns people had not been so forthcoming. Possibly something to do with looking as though he could scare folks off, apparently.
"Or the Dalish. Though they tend not to come so far into town's I'd thought, more hit and run bandits on the road. Could be lucky - could be both!"
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Post by againststars on Oct 1, 2015 3:49:09 GMT
"You think so?" Riona says, but the question is rhetorical. He's probably not wrong. The whole area around Redcliffe has always been a bit rough with the strange and magical, it's why she doesn't swing by terribly often. No need to go messing with that if she can help it.
She frowns sharply at the idea of attacking elves with a shem, one lip curled up to show a sharp elven incisor, but otherwise simply hands the note back to him. It's not likely, and if it is a clan then maybe she'd be better chanced at getting them to turn around than a group of humans, even as a flat ear. "If it's mages, we'll either need a Templar for anti-magic or a fellow mage, and if Templars could do it then Sister wouldn't be asking for coin help."
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Post by Hawke on Oct 2, 2015 3:22:44 GMT
He notes the change of expression but there is little that can be done - of course he knows not all elves are thieves. Probably not any more than human bandits tracking the roads. Just so happened that elves got the short end of the stick more often than not. Sometimes, they decided to sharpen it before they gave it back.
"Right on that front. But I take it you're in for the ride either way?" He offers a big slab of a hand to shake, just to seal the deal.
"Don't know where we're going to find a mage - have a feeling most of them are massing in the woods giddy after the dissolution of that. Contract or whatever it was. Accord maybe. Heard a few travellers mentioned it," He adds by way of explanation. Word travelled fast - especially when it was about a newly liberated congregation of potentially lethal magical people.
"Its a matter of time before theres a contingent of Templar's marching through, scaring off any mage that might be of use," He shrugs shoulders and frown furrowing its way across his features.
"Either we track 'em through the woods and surprise them, or wait till a bunch of puffed up ser's pass through and are maybe willing to deign to allow us to tag along. But then whoever's been attacking would still be attacking in the night and I doubt we'd get paid much if we let that carry on," He nods once to himself as though affirming his own plans in his head.
"So I say we hit up the local tavern, pick up any passer'sby too soaked to leave their seats and set out on an ambush," He looks to her for affirmation or advice on the plan.
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Post by againststars on Oct 2, 2015 4:13:35 GMT
"Oh I'm always up for a good party," Riona says, shaking the paw that dwarfs her own hand with enthusiasm. "Name's Riona, before we go."
Mages weren't always hard to find if you knew how to tempt them out, but it was a fair cop from the guy -- even if they turned up, chances were better that they'd wind up with a newly-freed Circle baby as opposed to an experienced apostate, and going into a fight with a staff so green it's dewy is never a good plan. She'd legitimately rather let the Templars take her gold than risk getting a fireball to the face by accident from some skittish apprentice.
Riona hums thoughtfully, considering the suggestion and their options. In any other scenario she'd still prefer to scrape up at least two or three more people before setting off, safety being what it is in numbers, but the guy seems to be two or three people himself, and with magic it often seemed better to go with speed than quantity. "Sounds doable. If we can find someone sober enough to do traps and locks, we might want to carry 'em along for the ride, in case it's regular unmagic banditry out there."
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literalgarbage
Newbie
Posts: 22 
Gender: Noncommital grunt and shrug
Pronouns: I don't mind/use a mix
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Post by literalgarbage on Oct 2, 2015 4:25:41 GMT
Tacivi wanders aimlessly along the edge of the lake, enjoying the scenery around him, reveling in the freedom to travel to new places, as is now custom for him upon entering a new area. He's brought out of his reverie by the sound of his own stomach, reminding him that he'd been walking for quite a while without a break. With that in mind he turns his attention to The Spoiled Princess for a chance to eat and figure out his next move.
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Post by Hawke on Oct 3, 2015 1:19:35 GMT
Benjin grins at that as he takes her tiny hand in a firm shake.
"Benjin," He offers in return, before setting off into the mud (there was always mud in Ferelden, it would seem) glad his boots came up to his knees at least, and pointing to the tidy little establishment scarcely more then a little walk away. A well worn sign hung above the door, swaying back and forth in the breeze that declared the establishment as 'The Spoiled Princess'.
He rumbles a laugh at her response and gives a little tip of his head.
"Always liked partying with optimists. If I had a drink in hand, I'd offer a toast - to regular, run of the mill banditry!" He chuckles just a little and its only slightly hollow. The things he'd seen in Kirkwall, well.. He'd prefer regular run of the mill bandits any day. Hell, he'd take trained Antivan Crow's over mages - at least then you'd go out with a knife you didn't see rather than ice shards through the face.
He pushes open the door to the tavern, the warmth rushing to meet him, a combination of the three hearths burning and the rather rowdy patronage. Benjin turns to Riona, and gives a sweeping gesture of the room.
"Pick of the litter, this lot."
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Post by Rivaini on Oct 3, 2015 6:00:20 GMT
"Clayton, come on." Devereaux leaned in closer, both hands firmly on the bar.
"No," The innkeep walked over to retrieve an abandoned mug, the other man on his heels. "I know what you're about to ask and the answer's still no. I know your tells. 's why you're so shite at diamondback."
"Three silver then- at least?" The begging would almost be pathetic, had it not been phrased as a barter.
Clayton gave a pointed look. "I'll give you two. I'm taking the third as damages, and if you promise to stop being such a sodded pain in my arse, I might pretend I don't see you sleeping 'round back."
Devereaux split out into a grin, pocketing the two silvers that were slammed down on the counter. He strode away, wobbling slightly, to sit at a table near the door.
Maybe he was shite at diamondback, and at this point near-penniless, but he hadn't lost his place to sleep tonight. Back to searching for merc work, it was.
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Post by againststars on Oct 3, 2015 8:00:17 GMT
What a delightfully eclectic blend of people to take shameless advantage of!
One of Riona's best tricks is to pickpocket her way through a tavern, hiring anyone who's good enough to catch her, and sometimes use the things she finds to bribe any others. (It's her best -- if dirtiest -- mage-catching trick: nick a bottle of lyrium out of a pouch, politely inform them that they "dropped" it, and usually they're so desperate not to get caught they'll agree to just about any job she offers. She's not entirely proud of it, but sometimes needs must.) Depending on how much the bartender has to give them, she might do a few rounds through the room before they take off.
It's not much -- the sullen man, clearly already on his last threads, can only point them in the direction of one potential hire, so Riona lets her fingers dip through a few purses, trusting Benjin not to balk and give her away as she makes her way to the table by the door. (Was that a flask of lyrium? She'll check in a moment.)
"Heard you're terrible at cards," she opens with. "Looking to make more coin to lose?" Straight to the point.
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Post by Rivaini on Oct 3, 2015 8:31:40 GMT
He blinked- bleary eyed- a few times, taking in the blunt comment. He didn't owe money, did he?
"I'm not terrible at cards." It was a throwaway comment, a last-ditch attempt at showing some self-pride.
The elven woman in front of him appeared serious, however, and the largely-built man behind her even moreso.
Devereaux sighed, dragging a hand back through his hair.
"I don't do hits and I don't do mage smuggling- but I'll take an offer from a lady," with nary but two crowns in his pocket, he wasn't in a position to pick and choose, regardless of the work. "What did you have in mind?"
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Post by Hawke on Oct 3, 2015 8:47:11 GMT
Benjin does his best not to gawk though his old guard sense is certainly playing up; he'd had to spot many a sneakthief in Kirkwall, and he got rather accustom to all kinds of pick pocketting methods. Riona's, however, still managed to surprise him - he learnt a few extra moves as he watched her work. Still, she seemed to slide her way between the patrons to a young fellow who had been pronounced truly down to his last coins as they entered, so he sidles up beside her to look as though they are appropriately a cohesive unit, squares his rather large shoulders, and affixes his toughest 'no nonsense guardsman' expression, which he's found exponentially useful when hiring new green looking recruits. This kid seemed to fit the bill.
"But not from me?" Benjin rumbles over Riona's shoulder, but snorts off his own attempt at humor. He notes the Orlesian accent though and wrinkles his nose just a little. Orlesians.
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literalgarbage
Newbie
Posts: 22
Gender: Noncommital grunt and shrug
Pronouns: I don't mind/use a mix
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Post by literalgarbage on Oct 3, 2015 8:58:52 GMT
Although he enjoys being around people and simply observing daily life around him, Tacivi finds trying to communicate absolutely exhausting, especially when it comes to inebriated people in close quarters. The occasional thought to just force people out of his way is usually followed by a rebuke, a reminder that it isn't their fault, that he just needs to try harder to garner attention.
So, with burning cheeks he slams his hand onto the bar, finally gaining the attention of the innkeep. Smiling sheepishly he holds out a piece of fading parchment reading "Sorry, but may I please have some food and drink?" written in a neat and precise style. The man seems to just roll with it, definitely not the weirdest thing he's dealt with by a long-shot, and gets what is requested of him. Tacivi nods his thanks before making is way to a table in a less crowded area to enjoy his meal, still mortified that he had to resort to such methods.
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Post by Rivaini on Oct 3, 2015 9:27:19 GMT
Devereaux blanched slightly, looking up at the man. Ah. He hoped he didn't owe money. Rogueish tactics or no, he'd hit the ground like a sack of bricks in a fight with this one.
He made a quick attempt at regaining his composure, warbling slightly.
"I'm open- You'd have to buy me a drink, first." He aims for a casual chuckle that hopefully doesn't come off as unsure, and almost considers tacking a 'ser' onto the end.
These two were...Ferelden? Marchers? Either way, people with sensibilities. Coin was the priority and his flippancy wasn't helping. An odd pair they were, though. Probably borne of convenience. Was this a chantry thing?
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Post by againststars on Oct 3, 2015 10:03:29 GMT
Benjin's apparent willingness to provide intimidation without even being asked is enormously helpful -- using her own tendency to be underestimated has its uses, but there's something to be said for a good terrifying glower from way above your head -- and while the men exchange quips Riona takes a moment to fix her eye briefly on the man she lifted the lyrium from -- at the bar getting food, unlikely to be going anywhere before she can swing by. There's no way for her to pass this information to Benjin surreptitiously, though, so it'll have to wait.
"We're looking to out-bandit some bandits, clear the woods up for some nice, hard-working, gold-distributing folk to feel better about. Chantry nearby says they'll pay for the trouble, and won't your soul feel all nice about it?" Her half-tilted smirk shows just how much stock she holds in the business of getting squeaky-clean souls.
"And I suppose we can make room in the schedule for a round of drinks, do you?" This she directs up at Benjin, doing her part in the act of making their united front well-established.
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