Participants:

Maura_icon.gif Cenn_icon.gif Taril_icon.gif

Scene Title That Moment When
Synopsis Maura and Taril have a conversation with Cenn while he is out walking, and managing to keep their composure when they find out he's a Templar.
Location Docks
Date 29 Bloomingtide 9:31 Dragon
Watch For Oblivious Templar is oblivious. Talk of Kirkwall.
Logger Cenn

Somewhere admidst the shady and legitimate dealings that go on, are the piles upon piles of shipping crates that get unloaded once passengers have disembarked along the docks. And either they never get moved, or there are just so many that for hours of the day the pile does not diminish in size. It's atop one of those smaller stacks (only a few crates high, nobody needs to hyperventilate) that Maura sits watching as people arrive. She could simply be people watching, as it IS a little fascinating to see the expressions of those who are seeing Kirkwall for the first time. There's absolutely nothing redeeming about the decor and atmosphere of this place.

Even Templars get the occasional day off. While Meredith was… Well, Meredith, she would still hear requests. Thus far. So when Cenn walks through the docks, it not in his armor. No, he's dressed in simple, but well made, street clothes. A shirt of pale blue, a long coat that fits his form. The fashions of the Free Marches has proven to be an interesting, if not a bit strange, thing to the Ferelden-reared Orlesian. Even today, however, there is a blades, sheathed, at his hip. In no world was Cenn about to go wandering around Kirkwall unarmed. Down past Maura's pile crates, just wandering, still working to learn the layout of the city.

With an abominable sense of self-preservation, it's likely Maura would say something even were Cenn to be in full Templar regalia. But as he wanders past her perch of crates, the blue of his coat catches her eye. "You ought to look up more often. Some of the less… well heeled members of the city like to throw things at people that are decently dressed." She appears as though she's learned this from experience since she's not in tatters at the moment. "I never had the courage to investigate what landed on me the first time I came through here."

Taril can't really tell a Templar from a Turnip without the armor, but he does know Maura's sense of self preservation AND luck. So, as soon as she's spotted he walks over to tap her on the head. What? No, he's not stalking her. He's following. There's a DIFFERENCE. "Throw things at, take things from, pick the pockets of." That's Taril for 'hello'.

Cenn is, luckily, smart enough to have literally nothing of value on his person save his blade. There's a shrug. "I don't exactly choose the get up." He says, glancing down at his clothes. Honestly, they just kept a closet of clothes in the quarters. Sure, some Templars spent their pay on more personalized things, Cenn had never bothered. The longer one might look at what he's wearing, it grows more obvious too, how the clothes aren't quite tailored for him.

"Are you following me?" Maura, incredulous. "Darktown I understand. But really, here too? Is this what it's like to have older siblings?" She apparently wouldn't know, but it seems like she prefers the 'only child' lifestyle if that's the case. Even if she looks more amused then even exasperated when Taril taps her on the head. "Alright, just a suggestion. But if someone else is providing the getup, then." Shrug. Who cares if it gets… stuff on it.

"Indeed. I mean, if they want to bring it up with the Knight Commander for destroying her property." Cenn says with a shrug and a small laugh. Not that he'd really actually bother to report that. Ever. But it's meant as a joke. He doesn't get to use his sense of humor all that often.

"Then you may want to watch out for those who'll knock you on the head, strip you, and toss you into the water," Taril provides, then wrinkles his nose at Maura. "Not on purpose. This is the only place in town that has reasonably fresh air." He settles on one of the crates and crosses his legs in front of him so that he's perched there before beginning to work the ties of what is probably a new game sack- the leather looks relatively new. Oh good. They have a Templar.

Maura just blinks, and then gives a little laugh. That's what one is supposed to do, right? What she'd prefer to do is probably fleeeeeeeeee all the way home to Lowtown. "True enough I guess. To both of those statements. I come to watch people arrive on the boats from Ferelden. There are still stragglers arriving." Even now, her gaze lingers on the stone pathways. "Are you new to the area, then? Your accent isn't one of someone who has spent their life in Kirkwall."

To Taril, Cenn just tilts his head. He's never had someone attempt that one before… Well, actually. Come to think of it, he had. But that was back in Kinloch, and was his fellow Templars pulling a prank. There had been a lot of laughter that day. He'd been so much younger then, too. His first year at the Circle Tower. Nope, that accent is distinctly Ferelden, in fact. "Yes, I imagine there would be." Cenn says, glancing out toward the water. There's a half second where he has a vaguely pained expression, but it passes quickly. Then, though, he nods, turning his gaze back up to the woman and the elf. "I am. Transferred from Ferelden just after the end of the Blight."

"You might have been better off staying there. At least Blights have ends and things get a little better. Here it's a veneer of ease on top a mountain of misery." Taril is an OPTIMIST. "Well, misery and greed. It's hard to believe that anyone who comes here stays. Except humans seem to love their cities."

"Some don't know if they have anything to go back to." Maura points out, as if she's not discussing herself with the comment. "I've been here a touch longer then, but not by much." Her accent is equally Ferelden, even if she doesn't actually spell it out. "But I suppose we do love our cities. I could do without the chokedamp and littered bodies, myself. But, beggars can't be choosers." She could also do without pony sized spiders. But that goes without saying.

"Many don't." Cenn confirms of Maura's comment. "Or at least, what they have to go back to would cost them more than the passage to Kirkwall. Or they have family they sent away they need to retrieve." There's a shrug then about cities. "And the Dalish love their wilderness. Each preference comes with its pitfalls."

Taril shrugs. "It's not an insult, just an observation. Some Dalish would tell you that we're not exactly allowed to have cities." He says it casually enough to let it be known he's not one of those, even if he can see the truth in it. "I admit I don't have much understanding of it. If an aravel needs repaired, we take the materials from the world around us. Everyone helps with the process in some way. There's no charging for services or affording materials. Then again, I suppose it's not that easy to just move a farm or a town. A clan would have the luxury of avoiding it if they chose."

"Both ways have their merits, then. As well as the pitfalls. I'm having a difficult time thinking of the merits of a place such as Kirkwall I admit. But I'll chalk that up to my own failing. Surely someone more creative then I am can think of a few." Maura decides, looking a bit impish when she says it. Cause seriously, she's coming up with nada. The decor is depressing, the smell is awful, the atmosphere is oppressive… it's just not a happy place to be. "What a cheerful conversation we've managed to get ourselves into."

"Kirkwall is a place for those who need it." Cenn says simply, something he's come to believe about the city in the short time he's been there. "Not pleasant, not meant to be. Just… Somewhere to go, and the world needs places like that." He pauses, then, looking back toward the looming tallness of the city beyond the docks. "But I should be on my way. I wish you both a fair day."

Taril gestures toward the city in general. "It's a great place if you're looking to get rid of any extra hope you've got laying around. Then again, even the hopeless need a place." He nods to Cenn. "I don't suppose we have to tell you to watch where you walk but… well, watch anyway. The streets here are full of surprises." He glances over at Maura. Like, SURPRISE, finding a Templar and having a chat.

Maura is probably going to gibber for the rest of the day after this. Hey, she's been casual and chatty the whole time! She deserves a little freakout moment and some alcohol once the pretty Templar man is out of sight okay? "Stay safe!" she echoes, sounding cheerful enough and then waving before he continues his walk. THEN, she whispers to Taril. "Scuse me while I go hyperventilate for awhile." Even in whispers she squeaks. And then she starts to nimbly scramble down the crates to run away.

"I'll keep it in mind." Cenn says to Taril with a nod, and shoots both of them a winning smile. Then, though, he continues on his walk. Whatever the hell this Templar was off to, it seems it will take him through Lowtown first, with the direction he is walking.

Taril is just going to sit there and continue his work, though he gives a nod toward Cenn. Though his head tips down as if paying close attention to the leather he's working, he watches the direction the two walk off in. At some point he's going to have to wonder exactly WHY he's decided to adopt this human. His own little sister is handful enough!


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