But this guy - odd though he clearly is but maybe he too has stumbled here via Orlais but from a party or something - is The Guy. Saying all the things Yngvi likes to hear because finally some recognition. Enough to get him scrambling up and dusting the crumbs off though he still looks like a small dirty potato. "Obviously. Because I have finally made my long and winding way here, surviving the attentions of Comtes and slapping trees and wrangling nugs."
(Yngvi might be having that fabric. He needs to ask Gwenaelle if that's his colour, yay or nay.)
"Hooooooooow," Yngvi begins, dragging that word out for as long as his little brain needs him to, "not know what's around here? Where have you been? You're too big for under a rock? Or under lots of rock. And trust me, Templars? Don't protect nothing. Unless it's their lyrium stash. They'll sell their own mother for that if they know who she is." Because they might not, same as Yngvi doesn't but that's not because he's some weird Chantry-addled lyrium addict stuffed full of his own righteousness.
Wow. Wow no one is going to believe this so Mac hopefully you're going to enjoy being presented to all of Yngvi's friends as 'that dude that wants to see me eat a whole boar and thinks I am the dog bollocks'. What plans he has. Anyway, handshakes. Who cares about dirt, Yngvi's from Darktown, he's Carta, he's a mercenary, he's a mix of grease and sandwich fillings, shaking right back. "Yngvi Congealedinagutterson."
no subject
But this guy - odd though he clearly is but maybe he too has stumbled here via Orlais but from a party or something - is The Guy. Saying all the things Yngvi likes to hear because finally some recognition. Enough to get him scrambling up and dusting the crumbs off though he still looks like a small dirty potato. "Obviously. Because I have finally made my long and winding way here, surviving the attentions of Comtes and slapping trees and wrangling nugs."
(Yngvi might be having that fabric. He needs to ask Gwenaelle if that's his colour, yay or nay.)
"Hooooooooow," Yngvi begins, dragging that word out for as long as his little brain needs him to, "not know what's around here? Where have you been? You're too big for under a rock? Or under lots of rock. And trust me, Templars? Don't protect nothing. Unless it's their lyrium stash. They'll sell their own mother for that if they know who she is." Because they might not, same as Yngvi doesn't but that's not because he's some weird Chantry-addled lyrium addict stuffed full of his own righteousness.
Wow. Wow no one is going to believe this so Mac hopefully you're going to enjoy being presented to all of Yngvi's friends as 'that dude that wants to see me eat a whole boar and thinks I am the dog bollocks'. What plans he has. Anyway, handshakes. Who cares about dirt, Yngvi's from Darktown, he's Carta, he's a mercenary, he's a mix of grease and sandwich fillings, shaking right back. "Yngvi Congealedinagutterson."