Participants:

Davan_icon.gif Luthor_icon.gif Kindle_icon.gif

Scene Title A Cold And Rainy Night
Synopsis Davan is driven in to the Hanged Man by rain
Location The Hanged Man
Date 09 Harvestmere, 9:31 Dragon]
Watch For Talk of Servants
Logger Davan

Davan isn't in this particular establishment often. He can, in fact, count the times on one hand. If it weren't for the soaking downpour happening outside he probably would have passed the place by for spending this late evening at home. So here he is, ordering something that the bartender hands over begrudgingly. He pays for it with a look that WOULD be bored if it weren't for the fact that he's cold and damp and going to go sit and remedy that now, thank you.

It is pouring out, indeed. Luthor Traske follows Davan right into the Hanged Man, though the two are not precisely fellow travelers. He's wearing plain leathers, his greatsword slung over his shoulder. And Dragonstorm does not like the rain, it seems. The electricity which gives the great weapon its name is hissing and popping every time a drop of water hits the hilt. Making his way over to the bar, the lean mercenary shakes himself like a dog, his blond hair casting a spray of rain in Davan's direction.

Davan levels a glare at Luthor. "Do you mind?" Not that he's waiting for an answer. He and his elegantly carved and gilded staff are going to go sit at a corner table and pray to the maker that it all goes away quickly. He has perfectly good brandy at home. "How anyone manages to exist in this weather…" Seriously. The climate has the audacity to NOT be warmer.

"Sorry 'bout that," replies Luthor equably. He doesn't seem sorry. "Ought to get yourself a hot loggerhead," he adds. And then, to the bartender. "Actually, that ain't a bad idea. Mind if I heat something over the fire?" The bartender shrugs, handing the man a spoon. "It's not so cold here," he continues to Davan, ignoring the way that the beautifully-dressed mage seems to want to ignore him. "Here. I'll show you an old soldier's trick." The Fereldan accent is strong with this one. He ambles over to the fireplace, holding the spoon in a gloved hand over the flame.

"Oh good, the sort that doesn't take social cues easily. It must be my lucky day. …and is cleverly outdoors-y. Must be my lucky day." Not that Davan's tone is overly condescending. He's uncomfortable and chilled and it makes him grumpy. His staff is unslung and he rests it against his shoulder as he sits. "By all means. I do enjoy watching gambling as much as participating in it." He'll just sit here and sip his brandy.

"Oh good, the sort that doesn't take social cues easily. It must be my lucky day. …and is cleverly outdoors-y. It really IS my lucky day." Not that Davan's tone is overly condescending. He's uncomfortable and chilled and it makes him grumpy. His staff is unslung and he rests it against his shoulder as he sits. "By all means. I do enjoy watching gambling as much as participating in it." He'll just sit here and sip his brandy.

Oh, Luthor notes the other man's distaste — he just doesn't seem to care. It comes off him like, well, water off a duck's back. The spoon's head has gotten red-hot. "Pass me your drink, fella." He's still quite friendly in his tone, but the Fereldan does appear to expect to be obeyed. A smile is given over at Davan, white teeth in a tanned face. "It is your lucky day, mate. This'll warm you right up. You know, Teyrn Loghain used to warm his drink with a dagger."

"Be still my heart." Davan appears to be on the verge of telling Luthor to go commit impossible acts with himself before heaving the world's heaviest sigh. "Will it make your mouth stop making noises at me? That's the effect I'm interested in." Despite his words, he hands the glass over reluctantly and reaches up to settle his staff more comfortably against his shoulder while he waits.

The spoon hisses as it enters the brandy. Luthor stirs it around as the glass warms in his hand. "You're in the wrong bar for arrogance, friend." It's a warning, but not a threat. He hands the glass back over, smiling. "There, try that. I know it ain't the finest brandy in the world, but it ain't bad when it's warmed up. Not on a day like today. I'm Luthor Traske." He gathers up his damp hair and absently sweeps it back off his forehead. "And you're a Vint, right?"

Davan takes the glass and looks at it skeptically. "It was half decent at room temperature. Now it'll be warm and half decent. Am I?" He makes a show of looking around. "Odd, I thought I was in this bar. Which makes it a perfect place." And then there's the question of his origin and he nearly- nearly- barks a laugh. "I am from Tevinter, yes. Davan Pulcherus. I take it you're Ferelden?"

"You got me in one." The oddly-persistent Ferelden mercenary grabs a chair, turning it so that he can sit against the wall and easing into it. "Davan Pulcherus. I thought it would have t'be you. We have a friend in common, turns out." His smile turns briefly into a smirk. "Well, I say friend. Carys. Small. Lovely curves. A bit free with her hands around small shiny things." He quirks a brow. "About as common as anyone I ever met. I wondered about it at the time, when she said she was living with a rich Tevinter fella. Drink your brandy before it cools."

"You know Carys? You don't know her incredibly well or you'd know that there's nothing at all common about her." Look, Davan adores Carys. Therefore, there can be nothing common about her. "She told you that, did she? Well, she must trust." He huffs a sigh and sips at his brandy as he thinks this bit of information over. "Which means I'll have to since I trust her completely. She lives with me, yes. She's dearer than family." The latter might be a warning, but there's no threat in his words.

"I like her quite a bit," says Luthor — and that smile vanishes as he speaks in earnest now. "And you're right. She ain't common at all — that was a poor choice of words, and I apologize." There's a latent intelligence in the man. He eases back into his seat. "You work for the Evocati. I signed on with Evocati as well. Shit, I think I saw you when Hadrian and them lot fought that phoenix." Another grin, slow and spreading. He doesn't say, when I put the phoenix down. He doesn't need to, really. It's in the smile. "I haven't, uh. Really done much work with the company."

"I'll take your apology for regret, since I'm not the one who should have it." Davan taps a finger against the metal that covers the upper portion of his staff. "I was there. On my own, of course. I've yet to meet Hadrian. I met the other, though I hear he's gone missing." He shrugs, taking another drink. "Neither have I, though I suppose that will change sooner or later. Not that I need the money, but tossing my lot in with mercenaries with a name like that? Who could resist?"

"Bit of a rebel, eh? How's that warm brandy?" Luthor grins and eases back in his chair, taking a gulp from his mug of ale — it's been brought over by a woman who seems to know him. He considers Davan for a few moments, studying the other man intently. "Only met Hadrian the once. Word is, we have a big job coming up, Davan. The Tethras Expedition." He spreads his hands briefly. "You ever fight Darkspawn?"

"I suppose that's the word you could use." Not that Davan is offering an alternative. "It's warm and passable. Which is high praise for this place. I was told about the expedition. I'm not certain about my going, but we'll see how things play out. Darkspawn?" He thinks it over for a second. "Well, there were some during the incident in lowtown near the slums- before you ask, I'd gotten myself lost- but I focused on the demons. I'm used to demons. I'm good at them." But now he's going to sit back and think this whole employment thing over.

"I heard all about that. Well, some of it. From Carys." Luthor rubs his forehead tiredly, before examining Davan again. "I'd like you along," he says after a few moments of guarded thought. "A mage with your sort of freedom is a useful thing, Davan. What I do best — I kill Darkspawn. Very effective at it. But I got to do it on an individual basis. One or two at a time. Sort of — bespoke." The blond man spreads his hands again. "You? You're like a merchant bringin' in a whole wagon-train of goods. You can kill wholesale."

Somewhere Bastian is turning over muttering about stubborn redheads, Alexia is waking and sighing in defeat… other disturbances are spreading through those that would like to shake the girl but don't dare. Which is precisely way Kindle strides into the Hanged Man in middle of the evening. Wet, yes.. her fiery hair in long streaming cords down her back and clinging to the pale skin of her cheeks and neck. One would think perhaps the hood on the back of her cloak would have stopped that but it lays unused against her shoulders. The cloak now, is furlined and deep midnight blue, opening as she steps inside to the kick of heavy deep green skirts. Yep definately not a place for the young noble woman though in truth she doesn't seem all that worried about it.

Davan raises an eyebrow. "Killing wholesale is exactly what most Southerners are afraid we'll come and do." He considers the idea for a moment and then nods. "I'll think on it. I have other… considerations." Now, the mage may not be interested in anything other than what Kindle is wearing, but he's spotted her and nods in her direction. "I see this place attracts from all levels."

Luthor follows Davan's gaze over to Kindle, and his smile stretches further. The lines of his face — so hard, when speaking of warfare — soften considerably. He raises a hand. "Aeryn!" Persistent in that, as well — calling her by a name that no others bother with. More quietly, to Davan, he says "I told her she oughtn't come here without a friend. Woman who looks like that can cause a riot."

Sound of her given name? Causes those brillant blue eyes to snap towards the table, brows furrowed until they come to land on the two men. Davan, studied a moment then that gaze slips to Luthor with a roll of her eyes and a smile and shake of her head. Then turning back to the tender, to say something to the man, head tipping towards their table. A moment later the girl is weaving between those gathered, dodging this grab or that one until finally someone catches her arm and she stops, turning a gaze that suddenly is stone hard on the man with a low pointed comment that has the brute flashing his gaze Luthor and Davan, mostly Davan then paleing to a pasty grey as he stammers and lets her go.

"You mean those who would want to handle her against her wishes would." Davan does see that look and though he presents himself as every bit the Tevinter mage to be feared, he curses under his breath. "Well, that's precisely what I'd hoped to avoid. Lovely." With that, he stands to give a bow as if he knows exactly what this woman's status is, complete with flourish.

The moment a man has Kindle's arm, Luthor is on his feet and moving. "That's what I mean, yes," he mutters to Davan. There's a vicious grace to the way he stalks through the crowd. And he doesn't stop once the man releases Kindle — even though the fellow is eyeballing Davan, not him. Making it to Kindle's side, he turns and stares at the offending brute. He's smaller than the other man, skinnier, but there's no fear in his gaze as he tips his chin up at the man. "You touch her again," he says, in a voice that's meant to carry, "And I will take your eyes right outta your fuckin' head, big man. Ask around." A jerked thumb to Davan. He steps back, then, finally, looking over at Kindle. "C'mon and meet a coworker of mine. Remember how I was saying you should hire us?" He offers the girl his arm, relaxing enough to grin.

Yeah, Luthor gets an eye roll but Kindle doesn't resist as he offers his arm. A glance back to the man who now is just trying to look small enough to go unnoticed. "You know, I had actually handled that." The tiny redhead points out as she is escorted across the floor to the waiting Davan. "Yes I remember.. I also remember stipulations." As they step close, a smile is offered to Davan as he stands there waiting. "Good evening, please sit."

Davan watches Luther with one of those mildly amused 'it's a bit overkill' looks. "Quite the hero." He comments before sitting again. "Not that your name hasn't now been shouted from the suspiciously stained tabletops, bu-t introductions are in order. My name is Davan Pulcherus. That was … interestingly handled."

"It's for the reputation," remarks Luthor quietly as he eases back into his seat. He looks up at Kindle curiously, not quite scooting into the table. "I fight in the Pit sometimes," he explains to Davan. "People might remember this, next time it comes to layin' wages. More often they bet against me for bein' a loudmouth prick, more money I make." He smiles lazily, taking up his ale. "Also. Aeryn here sort of did me a kindness last time we met. Call her Kindle." He winks up at the girl, amused. "She didn't like my last offer, though."

"Yes well it could have been handled a lot more simple but I don't really think Luthor gets quietly done." the girl chuckles and nods her head to Davan. "Nice to meet you Altus Pulcherus. Aeryn Fionnlagh.." eyes the warrior as he sits, then nods back. "Call me Kindle… most do." gaze slipping back to Luthor as he doesn't scoot back in, brow arching a little, though amusment sparkles in her eyes. "You are entirely too sure of yourself, I am thinking."

"The Pit? You can't be serious. I've heard of what goes on down there. No offense, but getting yourself maimed or worse seems a sorry payback for a bit of sport." Davan nods at Kindle. "Since that is what you wish to be called. Please, call me Davan. I prefer to leave the titles behind when I can."

Luthor smiles up at Kindle, his eyes sparkling with sudden, genuine, amusement. He leaves his knee as an offering, however. "I'm so full of self-doubt and loathing, sweetness, I come out the other side as cocksure and arrogant." He looks over to Davan. "It's not sport," he says after a considering moment. "I've a friend, Ciann. Served with me in Ferelden. Good man. His wife's pregnant. I've some other friends I stay with, down in the refugee camp. Coin helps down there. Ciann wagers for me. Sometimes I lose it back, patchin' myself up after, but.." He shrugs. "Coin's helpful." And then. "I'm pleased to have seen you both today, together. Davan, Aeryn here has an interesting tale about the man who had her job before her."

"Davan then." Kindle smiles, pausing as the server brings her drink over and sits it down. "Personally I think there has to be easier ways to make money but.." shrugs and as she pulls a chair out and settles into the seat, one hand moving as if to steady a hilt under the cloak before she is seated. "Titles, seem to follow no matter what." said with a side ways glance towards Luthor. "He means to the last Ambassador from Ostwick. Which in truth, it's not that intersting as I don't have any real answers besides that he is dead and no one seems to know why."

Davan shakes his head. "She's right. There are better ways. Easier is debatable. Still, you'll do no one any good if you're dead or in a stupor from too many hits to the head." He mutters a few curses under his breath. "Still, seems a poor place for children to be living. Much less a newborn." Look, he has limits, ok? "I've stayed out of the affairs of the refugees simply because there's nothing one man can do unless he's viscount. … but you're going to take this from me and if you argue, my going on this fool expedition is out." He pulls a coin purse from his coat and hands it over. "Squalor is as bad as slavery." Kindle's story earns a raise of one eyebrow. "Mysterious death? This place is feeling more like home every day."

"If you think I'll argue, I won't," says Luthor quietly. "Coin goes straight to Ciann and his kin. And I thank you for it." He glances aside to Kindle, smiling. "You're both right as well, of course. There are better ways. But I'm a soldier. I'm a fighter. That is my way." Now that Kindle's seated, Luthor scoots closer into the table. He rests his elbows atop it. "Alright. We've a mysterious death, a beautiful redhead arrivin' on the scene, and a bodyguard who she never uses." He quirks a brow over at Davan. "Seems to me this is perfect work for us, while we kill time waitin' on that damn-fool expedition."

Watching the coin pass between the two, her smile hidden behind her cup for the moment. "Mysterous yes. If you ask any that knew him, they considered him harmless, good natured man. Threw lovely parties.. is what I hear most. But no one can tell me why he was here in Lowtown, what he was working on or why his guards were missing when he was found dead at the bottom of the stairs." then glancing back to Luthor. "I told you, I am not dragging Alexia out of bed because I decide I can't sleep." she sighs then shrugs. "Besides, my father sent me out as bait… it's not a dutiful daughter's right to question, now is it?" that last holding the harsh undertones of sarcasm before she smiles again.

"At least you possess sense." It's Davan's only comment on the matter of the coin. "Oh yes, all that manly sword swinging. Maker forbid one find another way to do things." But then he considers Kindle. "So you're here as bait. At that point- forgive my language- fuck being a dutiful daughter." He finishes off his drink and considers the glass. "As for your guard, it is what you pay her for. I assume she has no objection to performing her duties, even if it's a little late. It's not as if you can't toss a few extra coins her way in compensation. Maker knows my hall boy has earned his share of that."

"I'm not very bright," confides Luthor to Davan. "I keep on doin' what I'm doin' because.. it's easier than learning a new trick. I know it. But you do work for a mercenary company, mate. Sword-swingin' is sort of.. its reason for bein'." He grins disarmingly, sweeping his hair back off his forehead again as he looks toward Kindle. "I ain't convinced," he says after a beat, "That your pa wants you for bait. But even if he doesn't, you're still here, sweetlin', and you're still in danger." Luthor spreads his hands briefly. "If I'm not to your taste.." Here the mischief comes back into his gaze as he looks at Kindle, "..Hire someone else you don't mind wakin' up. Davan's right."

"Well, he didn't /say/ he was sending me as bait. He said, that he beleived that Ambassador was murdered.. but would not tell me why he thinks that way since there was no evidence of, not that there is any evidence that he was not. Or that the reason that he was murdered was not from within his house. Considering everything.. He told me he wanted me to come take the job and find out.. but not how or why or what he expected was going on. JUst shipped me off to Kirkwall, without anyone but my cat, to a house hold I don't know and am unsure who to trust. And told me to look into it. So if that is not bait to pull out whoever. I am not sure what else to call it." one hand lifting to push the fiery locks, that now drying have developed into a riot of curls, back off her shoulder. "As far as Alexia, I hired her because I needed someone I could trust inside my house. And she is a very sweet girl that needed out of the situation she was in.. but she is also young and she herself admits that I may indeed be better with a blade than she is. She spends a good deal of time, chasing after my cat." pausing her gaze slipping to Luthor. "I never said you were not. I have been… distracted… of late."

Davan levels a 'this is my unconvinced look' expression at Luthor. "Yes, and it's not pit fighting. Thank you for making my point for me." Kindle earns a shake of his head. "Really? 'I think our ambassador has been murdered and I can't fathom the reason. I have a fabulous idea. You go take his place and live where he lived. I'm sure nothing could possibly go wrong and that the reasons will just spring from the walls like little daisies of truth'. You should start with hiring your own staff. I can have Liddy give you some references if you haven't done it already. You can give those replaced letters of reference. It's not as if there are hundreds of qualified help crawling over the city. All but two of mine are Ferelden. You couldn't find a native to hire at the time. Not that I regret the decision."

Luthor takes Davan's scolding with a good-natured smile. Nothing seems to irk the man if he doesn't allow it to — or perhaps he's simply an excellent liar. But he looks back at Kindle, smile vanishing, his manner growing more serious. "I've told y'that as well. Get rid of all of them, hire people that've got incentive to be loyal to you. As for me — well, my feelings weren't hurt, lovely. It's true I do appreciate a redhead, but my feelings don't enter into the job." He reaches to scratch at his cheek absently and looks over at Davan. "Thank you," he says after a moment, "For takin' care of my people."

"Well I was hoping someone would come forward out of the staff with information.. but." Kindle sighs. "I am also sort of tired of wondering if my food is poisoned." nose crinkling. "And I hate hiring people, it's… tedious." okay so there is a touch of a pout. A glance toward Luthor, then sigh. "Fine." reaching under her cloak and coming up with another pouch, this one in deep green with the Ostwick banner emblazoned on the front. She simply tosses it to lay in front of him with a heavy clink. "Your hired. There. Now that that is done. Anyone seen the dwarf?"

"Please. I'm getting as much out of the bargain." With that, Davan does his very best to not laugh. "My dear woman, if one of those servants DOES know what happened? You're never going to hear it from them. They also worked with whoever DID commit the crime, or know someone who did. You can't expect any of them to come dashing in and offering it to you at the risk of their own lives. Even the best and most honest among them will stay silent when their lives are on the line. Trust me on this, assassins are like greeting cards in Tevinter. We're almost offended if we don't see an attempt on our lives. I could ask Liddy if she'd help. She's amazing at interviews. It's almost as if she has some hidden power." That last question leaves him looking confused. "Dwarf?"

"She's looking for a dwarf named Varric Tethras. Matter of fact, one of our future employers." Luthor lifts the coin-purse, opens it, peers inside. He smiles. "Let's use Liddy," he says decisively, glancing up at Davan. "On both the outgoing staff and the incomin'." A look to Kindle. "And if it's alright, Aeryn, I'd like to propose all Fereldan servants. They'll be people I know. People I can vouch for in all cases. And it'd be a kindness to them and me both." Luthor sets the coin-purse down on the table as he continues. "We'll arrange to change your grocery supplier as well. Let's see — oh. I'll arrange for another man or two. Veterans. If I'm not available, you can have them accompany you. They're not too clean and not too polished, but they served under Teyrn Loghain. Best commander Ferelden had. He trained us well."

Kindle gives Davan a look, flat look before arching a brow. "Yes, I am aware that they would not tell me the name of the killer. What I was hoping for was perhaps some insight to what the man did besides throwing /lovely parties/. As he was the damn Ambassador for years. He had to do something, right?" taking another drink of her ale nose crinkling a little. "Luthor, you do realize, I am not Fereldan, don't you? I am the daughter of the Teryn of Ostwick, the only daughter at that.. " arches a brow then smirks. "Hire whom ever, use Liddy to facilitate, please talk to Alexia however. She has been very loyal and I do not want her feeling like she is being replaced. Find something in all this for her." to Davan, she nods. "Varric is finding information for me."

Davan ahs. "Well, if they're decent servants, you won't hear that either I'm afraid. Trust me on this, Liddy knows what she's about and she absolutely loves hiring. I suppose it's much more rewarding than assigning slaves to jobs. She'll make sure your Alexia is taken care of. I'll talk to her in the morning. She'll be busy scolding me for not being in sooner on a night like this when I get home." Nevermind anything he might say about his staff. His housekeeper scolds him for coming in late. This should be all anyone needs to judge him as an employer. "You really do want to hire Fereldens. They're much easier to get along with, even for me. Granted, Liddy deals with them most."

"I know you ain't, sweetling. And I know you're important. But I am Fereldan. And someone's gotta look out for my people; the King isn't in a hurry to. So.. thank you. It really does mean a lot to me." Luthor scowls down at the table for a moment, the first time he's shown genuine anger — and at something he said himself. After a few beats, he looks up again. "Davan, how y'feel about us keeping Alexia on? Can't buy friendship." He scratches at his jaw absently, a hint of pink rising in his features at some other thought. "Well. I suppose you can, in my case."

Kindles gaze shoots up looking from one to the other. "No, Alexia isn't going anywhere. She is about the only person I have been able to trust, other than Bastian and Anders of course… and Tiene adores her. I just don't want her feeling like she is being replaced as a guard, even if I don't use her as one as often as everything thinks I should. She left the City Guard to come work for me."

Davan shakes his head. "No one said anything about replacing her. You put special insignia on her uniform and make her your personal body guard. After all, she's a woman. She can guard you in places men can't go. The rest are merely your hired guard. You could even raise her pay if you like. Trained guards are all well and good but one friend who values your life is worth ten of them when it comes right down to it." He looks toward the door and sighs. "And if I don't get back this whole conversation won't be worth the breath it took because Liddy will have my hide." With that, he stands. "I'll have her start looking tomorrow. It shouldn't take long for you to have a whole new household."

"Then she stays," concludes Luthor frankly. "If she ain't the best swordswoman in the world? So what. She's loyal, she's brave, and nothin' beats that." He smiles over at Davan as the other man also agrees. "You know, I think I'm goin' to enjoy working with you, Davan. You're a competent man." He settles back into his seat and smiles. "I like the idea of promotin' her." Absently tonguing his cheek, he says to Kindle, "I'm sure you've already done it, but you and I need to go through the whole mansion, Aeryn. Piece by piece."

"There is an elf boy that stays too.. I didn't hire him, not exactly. He just needed somewhere better than under a tarp to live and be out of the rain. Right now, he brings my food and trays back and forth from my room. I have been teaching him to read." her small chin coming up a bit as if daring either of them to say anything. "It was nice meeting you, Davan. Safe trip home. You can have Liy come to the embassy whenever she wishes." her attention turning back to Luthor with an arch of her brow. "That is fine, where Alexia is concerned…as far as the house. There is a lot of house."

"Let's keep that between the three of us, shall we? I'd rather not have it widely known." Davan settles his staff onto his back again and gives a parting bow to the two. "Hopefully the rain has stopped and will stay that way long enough for me to get home." The mention of the boy earns a grin. "My hall boy is an elf. He answers the door at night and brings in the deliveries. If you trust him, make him your footpage. Once he can read he can run errands for you." With that, he heads toward the door. "I'll have Liddy come by tomorrow. She'll have time, I believe."


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