Participants:

Varric_icon.gif Maura_icon.gif Tamet_icon.gif

Scene Title Idle Gossip
Synopsis There's an urchin in the bar
Location The Hanged Man
Date Justinian 25, 9:31 Dragon
Watch For Gossip
Logger Varric

True to form, Varric is entertaining the evening crowd and it seems that he's just finished a story for a small group in the back of the tavern. Thus, with a satisfied grin, he settles back with his ale to watch and listen. Of course he looks at home, because he kind of is.

Now that she can, you know, walk again and stuff after a day of training.. it was Maura's turn to bring home food. So, to celebrate this small and strange victory she's getting food that is (arguably) a small step up from what's out at the market. Some might disagree. They would probably be correct. But! That is why she's wandering in today. And as always, a gives a quick glance around. To see if she can spot Varric. He gets a friendly wave that she suspects he'll know about even if he's not looking her way.

The Hanged Man. He'd been around it, seen it, watched people. Stolen from people outside of it. Though, he'd never dared enter it, not once. Not even on a dare, which got him right clocked in the face by Leon. It wasn't that he was _scared_ or anything, no, it's more that…he never had any coin to spend there. He liked this place. Liked the people around it. They sure as hell were more interesting then anyone else. So, today, of all days… he decided to walk inside. There's a slow crane of his little neck as it circles around the inside.

He took in the people. Each and everyone of note, people with armor, without. Those who looked… fancy, and those who looked crummy. Each type he marked, one by one. Until he found his eyes on Varric. "A dwarf." he mutters to himself, squinting at something missing.

"…Ain't they usually got beards?" he comments, with a thoughtful stroke of his own chin. Though he found himself standing and observing, that he nearly gets knocked down by a passing drunk.

"Shit…" he hisses, "Getcha head inna game, Tam. This is the big leagues." the kid mutters, moving to perch himself onto a stool. Just within view of Varric, and perhaps hear at least the last words of the story.

"Rose!" Varric motions toward one of the empty chairs at his table and then signals the serving woman. "I see you're getting used to the training. I also see that you're not staying with the others when it comes to meal times. Don't tell me you're going to the market. That stuff'll put more hair on your chest than dwarven ale!" The kid is glanced at but he'll probably be ushered out for getting in the way sooner or later, unless he manages to be out of it, so he goes on.

Maura a.k.a. Rose gratefully lowers herself to a chair at the dwarf's table. Very gratefully. "Well, the midday meal they're usually still training with swords and whatnot. So I … well, ok yes. We've been going to the market. And for the evening meal since we try to hoard what little time we have alone together. So basically for all meals ok. They get from the market for all meals. "But I bet you're going to tell me where I can get the best deal for something a little higher quality?" Pleaaaaase. "In exchange, well… I don't really have any stories quite yet."

The kid rifles into his shirt, and pulls out a couple coppers. He places them on the bar, giving the barman probably the biggest grin. "Ale." he requests, leaning back a little on the bar to sort of just enjoy the ambiance of the place.

In a word: He people-watches. Simply.

Whether it be the dwarf, or the pretty lady, or the three drunks playing cards in the corner. He doesn't seem bored, just sort of entertained by everything around him. The excitement of a new place.

Varric gestures to the serving girl and mentions something before turning back to Maura. "Go to the market in Hightown and talk to a woman named Liasa. She sells to the servants that work in the mansions. It's nothing fancy, but fancy's not portable. In return… well, if you know of anyone who's looking to sign on for an expedition into the deeproads, send them my way." Pause. "Or to my brother, Bartrand. Anyone who can wield a weapon or has their own cart and animals and is willing and old enough to take on the risk." Sorry, kid. That ale is going to be replaced with barely alcoholic sweet wine, cheese, and bread.

"Of course. Maybe I'll mention it to Taril. I'm not sure he'll want to. But I'll definitely mention it to him. And any others I come across who look likely. I'd offer up Adair and I… but, well. I think we're doing something entirely different at the deeproads." And Maura's not got a warmfuzzy about it. Neither does she complain. "That will make the perfect surprise, Varric. Thank you. I've never eaten fancy. Don't expect I'll start anytime soon." Her eye drifts over toward the bar. But, she doesn't say anything.

"Wait, I get all that fer just them coins?" the kid questions almost amazed by the prospect of food, _and_ drink for only a couple of coppers. "Damn." he muses with a low whistle to himself. Then with hardly checking the drink to see it were ale, he digs in.

There's something between an amused laugh, and a ravenous 'grr' as he chows down. Then he downs a bit of the wine, whatever it was, it sure tasted good. All of his prior observing is left to the birds as food takes priority for the young elf boy.

Varric nods. "That's the elf that put an arrow in the Arishok's arm, isn't it? Rose, if you can find me a dozen of those, I'll buy the next meal," he assures, laughing. "Once you're full Wardens you should try the inn up there. It's a little too fancy for me, but a young couple like you… I imagine you'd be able to put up with it. You can tell them I sent you their way, they won't give you any argument no matter how you drag yourselves in the door."

"Sure is. And the one I dragged down the hole in the mine floor I created. If he can deal with that…" Maura jokes, always willing to put in a good word for her favorite elf. "The Hightown Inn? That's a little rich for us. But, hey - one night, when we've dragged ourselves back from the deeproads. That would be worth it." Man, hot bath. Hot food. Comfortable bed. That will be like paradise after Maker knows how long on the road and getting deeproads grime on them. And, all the other unpleasant things that'll happen. "I will name-drop you like crazy. Don't worry about that. And is there really a kid over at the bar?"

Once he finished, Tamet spun around the barstool. Hopped down, and head on out, with a bit of a huge grin on his face.

Varric watches Tamet leave and nods. "Was. It happens sometimes. They get enough coin to buy a drink so they don't get run off, pick a few drunk pockets, and then run off. I try to stop the pocket picking when I can without letting on that they're getting anything. Otherwise they'll never leave."

Maura watches the kid scuttle out, and then looks back at her table companion. "This is why I learned quickly not to ever leave money in my pockets." And that's enough said about that, right? "I did hear something interesting recently. Though I'm not sure if it's up your alley or not." Please, it's a story. It's totally his thing. "There's rumor that another mage was brought in to the Gallows, since he broke out of his last Circle. AN elf. He tied underwear together to make a rope for his escape." People talk, ok? And that IS a good story. The panty stealing mage.

Varric laughs. "A panty stealing elf mage bandit. Rose, if that's not up my alley, I hang up my hat as a story teller. This one I have to find out about. Tell me he took them from the Templars? There's nothing funnier than a bunch of guys walking around in tin suits without any small clothes."

"Well, if the Templar laundry, and the Mage laundry mix like that did back at Waking Sea Circle…" Maura shrugs, looking innocent. "Then I would venture to say yes, he also took Templar undies too." She does, for obvious reasons, find that hilarious too. And winds up giggling at the image of those poor beleagured templars. "Of course, sending him here of all places is what I would call an overcompensation. A little disconcerting really."

Varric has apparently heard the best thing he's been brought all day. "It depends on where he came from. If he's Dalish, they're trying to get him away from his clan's range so he'll give up and be a good little elf." It's just matter of fact, he's not going to let his voice show what side he weighs in on. "If being in the Gallows doesn't make you give up, nothing will."

"DOubly awful, since if he's Dalish he would probably have been apprenticing to a Keeper. They don't treat their mages the way we do." Maura's lips thin, but she doesn't say anything else. Her feelings on the matter are probably fairly obvious given that she joined the Wardens in part to escape the possibility of being dragged back to a circle. "Something tells me that if one is desperate enough to tie underwear together to make their escape.. not even the Gallows is going to keep them down too long."

Varric nods. "You may have a point. I'll keep an ear out for noise coming out of the gallows. If what I hear about the Knight Captain is true, there'll be noise. A lot of it. You're lucky you got out of all that while you could. Keep a powder keg like that sitting around long enough and, sooner or later, it's gonna go."

Alas, since Maura is like an open book, her mixed emotions play across her face just as easily as if they were stamped on her forehead. Anxiety, guilt, relief, guilt, anger, guilt. There's a pattern there. "Yes, I am lucky." she agrees, nonetheless. "I'm going to go talk to Liasa now. See if I can't get something decent for tonight's meal. Thank you, Varric. If I hear any good gossip on the way I'll make sure it finds its way to you. As if it wouldn't already." A light laugh will follow her all the way out the door after that.
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