Kindle_icon.gif Varric_icon.gif

Scene Title Words of Servants
Synopsis An information hunt is started.
Location Then Hanged Man
Date Solace 20 9:31 Dragon
Watch For How to gather information from servants.
Logger Varric

Varric is sitting in his favorite spot, though the crowd in the bar is thin at this time of day. For the moment, the only thing keeping him company is an ale mug bigger than you'd see in the hands of most large humans and he appears to be waiting on someone.

Dressed in emerald that dips low on her shoulders and tucks in tight at the waist, she steps into the tavern and pauses, letting her eyes adjust to the change. Kindle had made an attempt to braid back that fiery hair today, the thick rope falling down her back. one can almost see the stubborn curls trying to wiggle free, some having already managed to fall again the curve of her jaw or throat. Catching sight of Varric, the girl's nose wrinkles with a hint of a smile before starting across the floor. Strangely enough today a sword, a very nice one at that, hangs from the belt around her waist, the scabbard nestles into the heavy skirts. As odd as that may seem and look, the young Ambassador seems to move naturally with it's weight.

"There you are,Clover. I was wondering if you'd make it down here." Varric gestures toward the empty chair opposite him. "Come have a seat, I think we might have a reunion about to happen. Those usually go over better when everyone's sitting down."

Stopping at said chair, hands falling on the back, Kindle arches a brow. "I already have a knickname you know?" though leaves it at that, instead moving to sit, instictively steadying the blade as she settles in. "And I wasn't sure how much time you needed, though you could have sent word if it was sooner. So you found it then?"

"Sure you do," Varric affirms while still making it look like that's information that doesn't really matter. The dagger is pulled from his pocket and placed on the table so that the hilt is presented first. "It seems the pincushion and their associates weren't as attached to it as they were their freedom."

Kindle lets the dismissal of her comment go without a fuss, instead turning her attention to the dagger that is being slid across the table. Reaching to take it up, the blade didn't look fancy, no encusted gemstones or etching, but the quality was there. With a blade that was a swirl of dark and light metals, the wire wrapped hilt and beautiful balance. Kindle turns it in her hands for a moment then without a word leans down to pull back her skirk and slide home into the sheath in her boot. By the time she rights herself to look at him, another couple strands of fire have fallen free of her braid and there is a smile that dimples her cheeks. "Thank you, Varric. What do I owe you?"

Varric raises a hand to fend off mention of payment. "I'll tell you what. If you run into any interesting information and feel like passing it along, we'll call it even. The man who took that thing sends his apologies. In fact, the entire gang agreed that they'd like to leave you alone." Because it was completely their idea. "I just had to send someone to pick it up."

That has Kindle arching a brow, a smirk of sorts pulling at her lips. "I am sure the feeling is mutual." her hands coming to rest against the table top as she studies the dwarf for a moment. "Perhaps there is something else you can help me with. I am looking for information."

Varric grins and leans back in his chair. "Well, I hear a lot of things. You tell me what you'd like to know and I'll see what I can find out. You'd be surprised by how much talking we merchant types do. …when we're not in bars telling stories."

"Oh of course, though well the stories I am sure are as important as anything else. And I am sure that you do, servants talk too.. but I can't seem to get them to open up about all this, so perhaps you can do better than I." settling back into her chair, frowning a little as she gathers her thoughts. "Did you know the last Ostwick Ambassador? Abban Breathnach? The one I replaced after his… accident?"

Varric nods. "Well, if you want servants to talk, you send other servants. Breathnach? Clover, the only one who knew the ambassador WAS the ambassador. At least, that's the way he wanted to keep it. What kind of information are you looking for? Usually, the replacement doesn't really care what happened to the last guy."

"Well I am not the usual type of Ambassador then. Because I do care. And would like to find out. Which starts with finding out if he was having any trouble with anyone or what he was doing in Lowtown that night." Her pale shoulders lifting and falling in a slight shrug. "He was the Ambassador for my father for a very long time. Just ignoring his death seems… disrespectful."

"Well that I understand. I'll tell you what, I have some friends who could probably find a few things out. You give me a little time and I'll see what they can bring back for me. I suppose it wouldn't do to have anyone come back to try to repeat history. Once I have something, I'll let you know and then we can discuss a fair payment, sound good?" Varric takes a long drink from his mug and then sets it aside. "Change makes more work for me anyway."

"Well we can't have that, can we?" Kindle teases before she moves to stand. "And yes, I would rather not find myself dead at the bottom of the stairs. Or anywhere else for that matter. And if there was something that the Abban was in middle of, I would like to know that as well." standing there for a moment. "If you find anything, you can send word to my manor and I'll come here. I really am not sure who is or isn't trustworthy there at this time."

"Fair enough. You should probably just keep that attitude if you're dealing with powerful people. You never know when that hand patting your back is holding a knife. That's why I like my simple, uncomplicated life so much." Varric grins. "It probably won't take that long to have something for you."

Kindle nods with a smile. "Stay safe, Varric." her usual farewell, though he may not be aware of that. The girl turns again heading back across the bar, her path perhaps not straight as she keeps herself out of arms reach of the few scattered patrons before slipping out into the heat of the day.

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