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open post;

propheretic dasharathi lavellan ( DA: I )	eleutheron fenris ( DA II )
( coding by whambam )

- leave a comment; blank, with pictures, with prompt, etc
- select character or i will; AU or OU or whatever
- will play dasharathi as companion
- presume dasha & fenris are unromanced, but OTA for whatever

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[ This man is irreverent, but it doesn't exactly put Fenris off. He's reminded--briefly, slightly--of Hawke. She always talked like this, too. Like everything was a joke, or a game.

He follows along, thinking of her, trying not to let the sudden association predispose him too warmly. He doesn't know the first thing about who he's dealing with, and he's not averse to ending their association violently, if need be.

But he does find himself hoping it won't come to that. ]

Fenris.

[ A beat. ]

What of you?

[Fenris. The name is familiar, but he imagines it'll come back to him soon enough. Honestly, the tattoos and the demeanor are more interesting to him than anything else.

With a sharp smile, he tips his hat before looking forward again.]

Twisted Fate.

It's a pleasure, Fenris.

[ Fenris doesn't say much until they're ensconced in the tavern, drinks in hand, stew on the way. He'd asked for red wine, a luxury he hasn't been able to enjoy for weeks on weeks--but if this elf is paying, why not?

He swirls it in its goblet as he stares down Fate, his green eyes luminous, searching. ]

I've known the Dalish to have odd ways, but 'Twisted Fate' does not strike me as traditional.

[Red wine. Not a bad choice, and a price he's willing to pay. In his own goblet, he has a sim, giving a little hum before he returns to his mutton.]

If there's something I can at least assure you, I'm leaps and bounds away from a traditional Dalish. I really like wearing boots too much, in any case.

But you, my friend, wanted to know what I know. So here it is.

Magister Aregor Priggs is interested in getting his property back. You can probably guess what that is. Simple enough, isn't it? I escaped him, and I have no interest in going back to Tevinter ever. Something I get the feeling you can relate to.

[ He has to admit, he's rarely seen one of the Dalish dressed so flamboyantly. It wasn't something he had time to consider while in the thick of battle--his focus being firmly elsewhere--but now he's taking the time to observe. He doesn't quite know what to make of what he's seeing, and when Fate mentions property recovery, he visibly tenses.

He bites back his first response--don't presume to know me-- ]

Are you saying you were a slave?

[A specific question that requires a careful answer. Fate sets down his fork and knife, and folds his fingers together, his grip tight.

He frowns, and says:] I am saying that I will be, if he does manage to find me. And he is a prideful man who does not make light on his losses.

[ The stew arrives, steaming hot and--if not exactly premium with regard to the meat and vegetables--filling. Fenris licks a bit of gravy off of his lower lip as he considers what Fate's said so far. ]

And I'm to presume those men were in your magister's employ.

[ He's still not sure if he buys this story. ]

What was in the note?

That would be correct.

[Such annoying little details. Twisted Fate sighs and sits back.]

Instructions on how to find me, and what to do with me. I'm not keen on too many loose ends, and certainly not eager to be found by anyone with a grudge.

Hmm.

[ He taps his armored fingers against the table, considering. He knows what it is to be pursued--it was his life for years upon years, after all. ]

Do you expect more company from your good Magister, then?

You know how it is with prideful men. They aren't easily deterred, and most definitely not him.

So yes, I do. Perhaps someone would be interested in removing a few more Tevinter from this world?

Someone has been doing that already.

[ And quite well, in fact, if he says so himself. He drinks his wine as he eyes Twisted Fate, remembering the days when he stole coin to survive. He doesn't live well as it stands; mostly just manages on the bounties he collects here and there. ]

But if someone were to be paid, he might focus his efforts for his employer's benefit.

[Twisted Fate smiles crookedly, then shrugs a shoulder.]

I think that could be arranged. [Fate is rarely hurting for coin, for one reason or another.]

Name your price.

[ He leans forward over the table, his bright green eyes focused on Fate's unusually fancy clothes. They're of much better make the average Dalish elf--even of the average human. Bespoke, perhaps, though it's harder for him to tell with robes. Fine fabric, certainly. Befitting an Orlesian noble. ]

What can you afford?

[ It might be a leading question. ]

[At that, Twisted Fate chuckles and leans forward to peer at the other elf. Most things can be bought, easily.]

Let's begin with an allowance, perhaps? Five sovereign weekly for keeping me alive. An additional for every Tevinter you slay.

If we need to adjust the terms, then I'm open to discuss. [But he's going to guess that it's a better deal than whatever Fenris has been doing otherwise.]

[ His eyes widen slightly, because Fate is right, of course--that's a far superior income to his current intermittent earnings. It feels too good to be true, and that makes him suspicious. He's always been a little paranoid, usually for good reason, and it's a difficult habit to break.

But he supposes there's no harm in seeing where the offer takes him. ]

Quite generous.

[ He finishes off the wine. ]

And how many men did I already kill for you back there? I'm forgetting.

Don't think much of it. I'm looking forward to having a simpler time, really.

[And he will run, for as long as he can; he has no urge to confront Magister Priggs anytime soon.]

Ah, yes. Six, I believe. Expecting back payment, are we?

[ Can't run from the past forever, buddy.

Fenris lifts the empty goblet, shrugging. ]

This is good wine. I should like to have more of it--only, my coin purse is unhappily light.

[you wanna BET]

Well, never let me stop someone from having as much wine as he'd like. Especially when he's watching out for my ass for the foreseeable future.

[From his purse, he relieves himself of six sovereign, leaving them on the table for Fenris.]

As for me, a drink sounds fine enough as well before I turn in. Unless there was something else you needed to ask of me?

[ Maker's breath. Does this elf always throw so much money around? He runs his fingers across them, as if checking to make sure that they're real. With a slight frown, he glances back up at Fate, shaking his head. ]

No. I know all I need to, for now.

[ Questions linger. How did a Dalish elf get involved with a magister in the first place? What was their history? Why was the magister so keen to get him back--or kill him?

But those could wait, he supposes. ]

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