faderift | You drink the wise blood [Open]

Entry tags:

You drink the wise blood [Open]

WHO: Kaisa and whoever wants to hang out
WHAT: Kaisa's back from her mission and getting used to Kirkwall and also being Senior Warden
WHEN: Nowish
WHERE: Around Kirkwall
NOTES: n/a for now

Hanged Man

It's always been in Kaisa's experience that the first place you go in a new town is the tavern. That is where you're going to get a feel for the pulse of the town, what the people are like, what the gossip is. And how Wardens are going to be generally accepted, because that's been up in the air lately. So, after being gone for what felt like ages, it's only natural the first place she shows up is the Hanged Man. She's in her casual clothes, just in case, but there's no denying that it's a warrior that strolls into the bar like it's her own house, an easy grin on her face.

She doesn't look particularly worse for wear, at least. A little leaner, a little more tired, a brand new scar crossing her collarbone. But her grin is just as energized as it always is, her presence just as loud and apparent, even when she doesn't say anything.

And she doesn't say anything, just yet. Instead, she spends a few moments glancing from bench to beer-soaked bench, and then swaggers on over to the bar, plopping down. It's only after she places her order that she turns back to the tavern.

"Sooo. Who wants to hear a story that is at least 50% true, and 100% awesome?"

Chapel

The chapel in the biggest tower is nice, certainly. Bigger and prettier. But there's a quiet stillness to the smaller chapels that Kaisa likes. She may be loud the vast majority of the time, but when it comes to her religion, she appreciates a chance for quiet peace. It's rarely the same time of day, each trip she makes, but always at odd hours. Too late, too early, right smack in the middle of the day.

And once in a while, she shows up with some kind of decor for the chapel. Nothing fancy or particularly expensive, just things like a string of dried rose heads, or replacing candles nearly burnt up with new ones. It's the little things, really.

After she's finished adding whatever trinket she'd managed to get a hold of, she kneels in front of the altar for a minute or two, before stepping back to the benches. There, she sits silently for some time, staring contemplatively into the distance.

Teren

There's one thing weighing on her chest, after her conversation with Nathaniel. A worry nagging at the back of her mind. Eventually, it's decided that there's only one thing to do, which is exactly what Kaisa usually does in uncertain situations--stand tall and face it head on, with all the poise and delicacy as a druffalo in a pottery store.

So, a few days after her arrival in Kirkwall, she tracks down wherever Teren might be, and throws her arms in the air.

"Teren! I'm baaack! Did you miss me? Did you cry?"

Wildcard!

Throw something totally different at me! Or talk to me and we can come up with something.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She'd been here to look after someone injured in one of the back rooms but had been offered a drink on her way out. It had helped that she had been willing to heal without questions beyond wanting to know if there was poison or things like that involved. Kattrin simply didn't care about all that, far preferring to get business done since that was why she was here.

However, an amusing lowlander was declaring she had a story to tell. Honestly this wasn't a favorite place for the Avvar woman but she had to confess that she was mildly curious.

"I will listen to this story you will weave." She smiled a little and rested her chin on her hand, curious to see if she could figure out which parts were true.

"You're skeptical, and I haven't even had the chance t' lie to you, yet." Kaisa makes a face, holding a hand to her heart. "I'm wounded. To my very core." There's a pause, where Kaisa's drink arrives, and she takes a long sip of it. Then, she turns back to the other woman. "That's better. Anyways, as I was saying." She adjusts into a more comfortable position, holding her hands up.

"Okay, so, I was asked to asked to rescue a ravishingly beautiful Antivan princess, who had been kidnapped by a horde of nefarious bandits. These bandits were clever enough to actually use a base situated in the Deep Roads. So I head on down there, right? Now, I don't know if you've ever seen the Deep Roads, but they got every manner of unpleasant creature cursed by the Maker himself. The bandits managed to use a secret tunnel, or somethin', and if you didn't know how to get in, well. You had every one of those unpleasant creatures you'd have to get through to get to them. Perfect guards, huh?"

Kaisa takes a moment for a dramatic pause, and tilts her head, grinning. "Unless, of course, you happened to be me. Or at least, that's what I thought." She takes another drink, and stares off into the distance thoughtfully. "That is, until I lost my sword."

She wasn't so fond of the taste of ale from the tavern but she still sipped at hers since it had been given to her. It was certainly something to do while she waited for the woman to get into her tale. It was rather compelling too. She felt it was a little unreal but at least it was enjoyable. Kattrin smiled some as she watched her weave more of it.

"You lost your sword? Against so many creatures?"

She lifted her brow then leaned in some more. She was finding that whether it was true or not at least the woman was able to be entertaining. It was something she liked in a storyteller.

"What did you?"

"Nah, nah. It was the bandits." And the story gets going, Kaisa adds wild gesturing to her words, speaking as much with her hands as her mouth--though her mouth was doing plenty of speaking on its own. "Ya see, they heard I was coming, and they came at me in the middle of--well. I can't well say it was night, 'cause you never really know what time of day it is, down there. But I was sleeping, and a bunch of 'em attacked me. But like I said, these bandits were the clever sort, which is the worst kind, if you ask me. They'd managed to take my sword before attacking me proper. Had t' fight em all with nothing but my fists and my dashing good looks. I managed to take down a few, but once they figured out that I was still a threat with or without my sword, they hightailed it outta there--with my sword, of course."

She takes another drink of her beer before continuing, still all sly grins and smugness. "They probably thought that'd at least make me turn back, but they didn't know me. I was just even more pissed, because now they had the princess AND my sword. Luckily, I wasn't completely unarmed, but all I had was a dinky knife. But a dinky knife is better than nothin', so I kept on trucking. It didn't go over too bad, really. Until I got to the ogre, of course. Have you ever had to wrestle an ogre? Honestly, the worst part of it was its breath."

"One does not usually find ogre where the Avvar live. That is where I spend most of my life until I came here." So no, she hadn't fought an ogre before. But she did know they were vast in size and difficult to beat. Kattrin knew one day she might face one now but there was no guarantee of that. Then again, she wasn't so sure she'd be useful when her skills were not exactly that of a battle mage.

"You were alone to fight an ogre with but a knife? You are an impressive woman to have survived such a battle."

She wasn't quite sure how embellished this portion of the tale was but it was fascinating to listen to at least.

"You're an Avvar? I knew an Avvar guy, once. Most stubborn, reckless bastard I ever met." Despite her words, it's with an undeniable fond smile that she regards her drink. "But he was a great guy, anyway. Genuinely kind an' everything, not that you heard it from me." There's a flash of--something on her face, forlorn and gloomy, before its brushed aside with a frown, a shake of the head, and a healthy chug of beer.

"Anyway. Where was I? The ogre, right. I'm afraid the rest isn't all that exciting. I managed to clear the way anyway, sword or no, and then when I reach the bandit base, I see the asshole who nabbed my sword swinging it around like it's a toy. Well, I figured, maybe I should just let the Maker do what he will in this case. Just gave a loud shout, and sure enough, the man all but lobbed his own head off with the sword. Either way, he wasn't moving much after that. I grabbed my sword, and took care of the rest in short order. Rescued the Antivan princess, and then had to convince her that it wasn't worth trying to run off with me, however beautiful and dashing I am. But that's nothing I haven't had t' do a thousand times before, I should just start handin' out cards to all the people whose heart I have to break like that." She laughs quietly, waving a hand around.

"Anyway. I get the poor besotted girl home, her dad isn't too happy that she's making googoo eyes at me, so he hustles me compensation and gets me out of there right quick. Which works just fine for me, honestly. Hate it when you have to drag the payment outta someone." And she takes another sip, before finally setting her mug down. "Anyway, at least it wasn't boring. I'll take wrestling an ogre over boring any day of the week."

Edited 2017-05-20 08:54 (UTC)

Was this the same Avvar man that others had mentioned to her before? She couldn't be sure but it wasn't like them knowing him would actually have her be aware of him anyway. If she hadn't known him before then she wasn't going to now. His hold had likely just been further away from her own so she'd never had the chance to know him. Not that it mattered now...

"I was Avvar, yes." But no more. She didn't elaborate though, wanting to hear the rest of this story. Though if the story of the princess was true then she could see why she would be attracted to her. Such confidence and appearance were very attractive. Not to mention those rather brilliant eyes. Kattrin just smiled a little, letting the story finish playing out. "I suppose it would be more exciting to wrestle an ogre over a princess giggling your way."

She gave a soft laugh. "I like your story whether it be truth or not. It has been some months since I was last able to hear a tale so compelling."

Months since she'd last really been in contact with people so it only made sense. Such was the life of an exile.

Was Avvar. Kaisa catches that, but she doesn't comment on it. That right there is clearly private business, and not the kind of shit you dredge up in the middle of a friendly tavern conversation. Besides, what does it matter? It wasn't like Kaisa cared what the Avvar got themselves up to.

Instead, she just grins widely, looking quite pleased with herself as she holds up her mug to Kattrin, then finishes the beer off. "Glad t' hear that the story went over well. Makes the giant pain in the ass the whole thing was worth it. After all, a boring life only leads to boring stories, you know? And who wants boring stories." A thoughtful pause. "Boring people, maybe. But, clearly, that doesn't apply to either of us, yeah?"

There's another pause as Kaisa hands the mug off to the barkeep, and fishes in a pocket for the coin for it. "Just wait until next time I come in here. Maybe I'll have an even greater story, then." As she hands the coins over to the barkeep, she gives Kattrin a wicked grin. "Or I'll come up with something, at least."

"I could share stories I know next time as well. I am no fine warrior but I have tales I could share with you. Though mine would be entirely the truth."

She actually laughed a little bit, obviously not bothered by the fact that Kaisa's relationship with the truth for her tale was passing at best. It made for a wonderful story, entertaining to say the least.

"It has been awhile since I have shared stories with others so I would enjoy the exchange."

While Kaisa's visits may be unpredictable, Inessa's own tend to occur with some regularity. Grey Wardens never truly sleep well, and the move to Kirkwall hasn't done anything to alleviate that. At odd hours of the night or pre-dawn morning, the young elven Warden can be found inside, seeking a moment of peace. She's not alone; as long as there isn't anyone to disapprove, Garahel plops down beside her, semi-dozing until he hears footsteps. As Kaisa enters, he wags his tail hopefully as Inessa turns and darts a smile at the entering Warden.

There's a pause in the footsteps when Kaisa spots the mabari, and then Inessa. She gives the other Warden a polite smile, holding her hands up. Of all the people to be in the chapel, she supposes that it's not surprising that it's another Warden that's up at the same Maker-cursed hour as she is. Still, Kaisa understands the desire for peace in these hours better than anyone else.

"Sorry, were you hoping to have it to yourself? I can wait, or just go to one of the other chapels, if you want. Isn't any trouble for me."

Inessa immediately shakes her head, not troubled by the sudden presence of another. That it's a fellow Fereldan who won't have a fit about her mabari being present is definitely a bonus. "No, it's quite alright. I've had my fair share of solitude, and this is a place for all. Besides, Garahel would never forgive me if I declined the company. Please, join us."

Garahel, stretching, then gets to his feet and heads over to give Kaisa an affectionate bump. No jumping from him, he knows to behave himself in the chapel. But that doesn't mean they can't be friendly, right?

Kaisa gives a small smile when Garahel greets her, reaching down to give him a few good pats, before moving to sit in a pew. She gives a heavy sigh as she settles in, stretching out before resuming a more pious position. "Thank you," is all she has to say for a few minutes, lapsing into uncharacteristic silence as she contemplates the effigy of Andraste before her.

But Kaisa can never be silent for long, not when there's another person in the room. So after a few moments, she glances back at Inessa, raising an eyebrow. "Did they have a chapel? In the Circle? I'd have supposed they would, at last for the Templars, but I've never heard one way or the other." It's probably not the best topic she could have drummed up, but it's the first one off the top of her head that bares any appropriateness to the surroundings.

Not minding Kaisa's need to converse, Inessa strokes Garahel as he returns to her side. She nods to the question, her lips twitching briefly as something comes to mind. "They did, yes...though it wasn't always treated as a place of prayer or quiet contemplation. Couples with more ardor than sense tended to seek out the chapel during the quieter hours when they were less likely to be caught. I learned rather quickly what hours to avoid it."

"You're kidding me." Kaisa says in a flat deadpan that said that she didn't really think Inessa was kidding her. "I appreciate the need for privacy as much as the next guy, but you can't tell me there wasn't other little nooks and crannies around." She let out a puff of air, shaking her head. "Well, I guess they needed the Maker more'n said next guy, so maybe they found themselves in the right place after all."

She gives a soft, huffy laugh at her cleverness, and shakes her head, looking up at the altar again. "But I guess if anyone would forgive and forget, it's the Maker. Maybe being in the general area of the Chant let them soak some of it in." Lord knew they needed it. Mages more than most.

"I always thought the library was a better spot for such things...more corners and soundproofing. But I suppose some enjoyed the potential scandal of it all. That and not all Chantry sisters were as virtuous as claimed. The tale of Jowan and Lily did come from my Circle, after all, but that's just one example."

Really, what did anyone expect? Put an assortment of adults together and...things happened. Mage, Templar, Chantry sister, those lines didn't always matter. That, or they were part of the appeal.

Kaisa doesn't know what the tale of Jowan and Lily is, but she can guess the rough outline of it. A mage and a Chantry sister hooked up, shenanigans ensued. It makes Kaisa snicker quietly, and open her mouth, about to regale Inessa with some of her own stories on the suspect virtue of Chantry sisters, when she stops, glances at the giant statue of Andraste, remembers her condemnation of people getting it on in the sanctuary, and decides that stories of getting it on aren't much better. So she snaps her mouth shut, just shaking her head again.

"Well, I guess there won't be much of that going on anymore." In any Circle, ever. Probably. "So, hopefully the poor Chantries can have a break from witnessing any scandalous behavior."

For her part, Inessa looks a little hopefuly as Kaisa seems about to share other other tales. She's not so above it all that she can't find amusement in such tales...but Andraste seems an effective enough deterrent. Oh, well.

"Some might mourn that, you know. Privately. It is nice not to have my guard up every time I visit, though." As Garahel yawns and stretches out a little, she leans forward to scratch behind his ears.

"Shhi —"

She startles, a bundle of — something — almost leaps from her hands, censors herself just in time.

"Ah, forgive me," Wren steps back, demeanor still uncertain. She's been dozing on her feet a touch, lost in thought, and. Well. Kaisa looked just a little bit like a statue, all folded into the dim light. "I did not, I do not mean to disturb."

This one's usually empty. At least it ought to be, at this time of night.

Kaisa jolts, just a little, when Wren just pops out of nowhere. But she's quick to turn and analyze the woman. Another warrior, but she doesn't seem to be here to throw down in the middle of the chapel, so it's okay to relax a little. Of course, that doesn't mean that a little shit-giving is out of the question.

"I think the only soul you're disturbing around here is the Maker's, throwing out words that ain't fit for his ears, yeah?" Despite the reproach, Kaisa says it with an easy, casual air, the smile on her lips hinting that it probably shouldn't be taken too seriously. It's not like Kaisa's a Chantry mother, after all.

"But don't worry, I'm not disturbed or anythin'." She continues, and flops onto a bench. Look at how undisturbed she is. "And I reckon he'll probably forgive you, so you're all good."

"I must get his attention somehow," A joke, but it's still a touch too thrown to affect its proper dryness. "With so many prayers about, how else to be heard?"

The smile she offers is delayed, slight, and genuine. A signal of its own. But her head dips faintly, respectfully, because some habits die hard — and because at this time of night, it's difficult to imagine Kaisa's here as anything but a believer.

If she's one with a sense of humour, the better. Wren shifts the bundle under an arm (a box wrapped in cloth), moves towards the altar within. The flowers, the candles,

Neutrally: "It has been years since this place saw such care."

Edited 2017-05-10 05:07 (UTC)

"Not a lot of prayers this time of night, but hey. Whatever gets the job done, yeah?" Kaisa's reply is nonchalant, so apparently she isn't offended, at least. Not that Kaisa can't get offended, but it takes a little more than a dirty mouth and wry remarks to do that, or she'd have to call herself out all the damn time.

Wren's next comment draws a thoughtful look, and Kaisa turns to study the altar a little bit. "No, I expect not," She murmurs, voice unusually soft and contemplative. "Even when this place was still in use, I suppose. Maybe if it had seen more use from the people here, we wouldn't be in here at all." Meredith had spouted a lot of nonsense about the Maker and doing what was for the Greater Good, but Kaisa found it hard to believe wanton slaughter was wholly approved by the Maker. Especially she hadn't even bothered to go through the official Chantry channels. Maybe if both she and Orsino had spent a little more time getting in touch with the Maker, they wouldn't have been so quick to go to panic and burn the city mode.

"But," She continues after a pause, casually glancing around her. "Dunno where they'd have shoved us, in that scenario. Camping on the Viscount's front lawn? Had enough room."

A glance back,

"Is there not a haunted mountain somewhere hereabouts? I suppose that might meet requirements,"

Space to spread out. Horrors and demons. Etcetera.

Wren's not inclined to believe the Gallows required any further inspiration for zealotry, but she can hold her tongue. For every quick-tempered member of the devout, there are others; she has served beside them. She may not believe, but she does believe it matters. She considers:

"We all sing the same verses," A polite fiction, with translations and versions too numerous to name. "But our hearts hear them differently, no?"

She slips the lid from the box, withdraws a little wood-carved Andraste. Wren sets it carefully upon the altar, below its larger twin — a similar style, a similar pose, but not a precise copy.

"The Chant was given for a guide. There is a way within it, but we are the ones who must walk the path."

"Maker's--breath, don't give the Inquisition ideas." The struggle to not blaspheme right there in the sanctuary is a challenging one, but she manages to stick to Blasphemy Lite™. Well, Wren is obviously not a Chantry Sister, so it'll probably be good enough. "Give 'em a couple months, I'm sure they'll be sending us off to take care of those ghosts and ghoulies, too." Not that Kaisa actually participated in any of the spooky extractions of the Gallows, she'd been busy off on her Super Important Warden Mission. Which, honestly, she was thankful for.

"I suppose, but your heart has to be pretty fuckin' deaf to think that the Maker wants some of the shit that went down here. So I guess they'd have to spend time here, and like. Contemplate, yanno? Shut their mouths and try t' actually listen." She flops bonelessly into a pew, and contemplates the mini Andraste that Wren puts up, before giving it an approving nod. It's a nice gesture, one that Kaisa is glad to see from people other than herself.

"Blind following without thinkin' has gotten people into a whole lotta shit, yanno? They don't stop to think, geez, maybe I'm taking this too literally, maybe the Maker wouldn't want me going around acting like a giant douchelord." She waves her hand around, frowning. The intricacies of theological debate were never something Kaisa had a good grip on, and prolonged debate of them was something she generally tried to avoid. But there were things that just seemed obvious to her. The Maker is supposed to love His children, and parents generally don't like it with their children try to mass murder other children.

Wren turns to lean against the wall, box tucked discreetly aside once more. She can't mirror Kaisa's slackness in the way that she'd like to. She's just not made for it. But she's tired, and she came here to a purpose now delayed,

So perhaps it's not so difficult to slump, to allow the stones to take her weight.

"At times, I think, to listen one must first be heard. Silence is a boon to contemplation, when we might seek it for ourselves."

"But to seek it for others?"

She rubs at her jaw, unhappily. It would be easier to navigate these matters (stay politic, never show too much of oneself) if she'd a clearer idea of her own mind. The Gallows are failure writ large; no party is blameless, but some? Some rather less so than others.

"For all those who did not heed the Maker here, there are as many who did not heed each other. The Inquisition presents a rare opportunity, in this."

Where else do they put elves in charge? Where else is everyone forced to work together — or at least to try?

Not a state of affairs that can last. Not one to be squandered.

"You were gone?" Teren snorts, turning to look at Kaisa as she approaches. Of course, this is a ruse, Teren knew she was gone. But admitting that would imply she has feelings and cares about people, which is, obviously, out of the question.

"I'm going to take that as a 'Yes Kaisa, it was terrible, the milk soured, crops withered, babies were born redheaded, etc etc.' And I apologize for putting you through that horrible tragedy." Apparently completely nonplussed at the denial of missing her, Kaisa chooses to plop down on a nearby crate. The crate in question might have been intended for other uses besides her butt, but those uses were not nearly as dire (or attractive).

For a few moments, Kaisa falls into an uncharacteristic silence, expression sober as she studies her feet. Phrasing things diplomatically had never been one of her strengths, and after running through several versions of attempted conversations in her head, Kaisa finally looks up and says, as blunt as a hammer to the head, "Nathaniel talked to me when I got back. I've been promoted. I'm a Senior Warden, now."

"Apology accepted," Teren grumbles, still intent on pretending indifference. ...but she can't help but smirk a little, because Kaisa is Kaisa. "Oh did he," she intones, awaiting the shitstorm, but hesitates when it doesn't come.
"Ah." Of course. "...well? Do you feel more senior?"

Kaisa appears to take this question under serious consideration, examining her hands, as though expecting them to have changed, somehow. The hands are still the same, and it's the same Kaisa that looks back up at Teren. "Well, not really, but I mean--I haven't really been doing Senior Warden things yet? I dunno what we're even supposed to do, right now. But I mean--"

She clears her throat, straightens her back. To business! "--I just. I don't know. I don't want to do what you were doing." Pause. "--Not that you were bad at it! But. I mean." There's nervous shifting, antsiness at being out of her comfort zone. "I don't want to try t' be you, and I don't want people t' think that I can be." There, that seemed as good of a way to put it as any.

"I can't be anyone but me, you know? And I don't want to, anyhow."

Teren's smirk becomes a thin line. Is that part of what Nathaniel told Kaisa? She should've known.
"You won't have to be," she assures the girl, "because my duties are still mine, I was never a Senior Warden, and the title's hardly but a load of rot with a tendency to swell a person's head." In hindsight she might realize that saying so is an insult to Kaisa, but despite her airs, Teren isn't always so excellent at filtering her commentary.
"Nothing has changed aside from Howe deciding that you're at least nominally his equal, a high honor indeed."

It's hard to decide exactly how to feel with those words--Despite the worry, she'd been proud to become a Senior Warden. The mixed feelings dance across her face, and after a few moments consideration, she settles for frowning at her hands, lips pulled in a twist. After some deep contemplation, she finally settles for a careless shrug.

"Nathaniel's never treated me like someone lesser than him, I think." Not that she can remember, at least. Standoffish, maybe, but that's just him being weird and distant and Nathaniel.

"Besides, when I have ever let anything swell my head?" There's a weak smile there, an attempt at a joke. "I don't mind being a Senior Warden, I just don't want you to feel like...I'm better than you, I guess? I know I'm not."

The smirk becomes grimmer still. "I'd hardly concern yourself with that," she mutters, bristling at the idea that a title could make her think someone superior. That it would even enter a person's mind, let alone Kaisa's.
"Well done you, then, for earning his lofty esteem. Is there anything else?" Though characteristically short with people, she seems especially intent on finishing this conversation.

He's spent a fair amount of time to the side of the tavern, watching faces he vaguely remembers and many he doesn't know at all as they gather and gossip. It's peaceful, in an odd way. No one here is likely to recognize him; he looks healthy now, with longer hair, and he's not glaring at everyone. It makes a difference.

And then a very familiar face wanders in and Anders has to grin as he watches her for a short time. After the story and some of her crowd has died down, Anders comes over with his mug.

"I'll agree with it being awesome, but are you certain that it wasn't only 10% true?"

Anders is greeted with a wide grin, and Kaisa leans over to give him a friendly thump on the back in greeting, before settling back down. His question is met with a faux-sorrowful look, a hand placed right over her heart. "I'm hurt. Wounded. Struck down by a trusted ally, my very own friend. Besides," She continues, reaching for her mug as it arrives, and shooting him an impish grin. "The best kinds of lies are the ones that are mostly truths."

She leaves Anders with that little fortune cookie saying, while she takes a deep drink of her beer. Then, before she can keep chewing the fat and talking shit, she has to take a moment to be serious.

"It's good to see you, though. How's everything been? How has...Kirkwall been?" He's still alive and not being hunted down by mobs, so that's a good sign, but. Well. There's a spectrum between that and 'fine and dandy, thank you.'

Even when he knows someone counts him as a friend, hearing it still has an impact. Even when it's a teasing mention. His smile gets a little silly before he takes his own drink.

"I'm not hurt or struck down, so apparently I'm doing better than you." A little dodging never hurt anyone. Or never hurt much, at least. The fact that he's not quite meeting her eyes probably gives the dodge away.

"I've a cat, an idea, a husband, and now, a friend that I'm wounding by calling out. What could be better? And this excuse for ale. How are you finding this... city?" He's not sure it's respectable enough to call a city, but the walls and Viscount and all the stuff probably makes it count.

Anders has already been firmly placed in the sappy friendship levels, as evidenced by the sappy speech he got at his wedding. It's too late for him, no refunds, etc etc.

Dodging is just another way of answering, really, if you think about it. And Kaisa does think about it, and decides against pushing the matter. Anders'll tell her what he wants to, and that gives her an idea of how it's been going, anyway. She takes a moment before answering his question, inspecting the aforementioned sorry excuse for ale.

"Well, it's better than wandering around in the wilderness with no ale and only my dog to talk to, so I suppose it's a step up from where I was hanging out for the last couple weeks." She gives a shrug, glancing around the rather shabby tavern. "Dunno if it's a step up from Skyhold, but I mean. At least we're not camping half an hour from everyone else, yanno? And I can't remember the last time I had my own room." Probably the hot five seconds when she moved to Amaranthine, before her little sister popped out. "I have no idea what I'm going to do with all that space. Decorate, maybe??"

"I am better company than a dog," he agrees teasingly. At least the tavern, while maybe not in great shape, isn't owned by Chantry-affiliated people. No matter where the Inquisition falls on some topics, it's still Chantry-based. And until they're done caging and enslaving people for what they're born able to do, he can have no faith in the Chantry or their allies.

"I could help you decorate. I've an eye for colors. ...Granted, I'd have to find time for that." Warden duties, healing for the Inquisition, setting up a Clinic again in Darktown, maintaining a relationship with his husband... He doesn't have a lot of time.

"On the other hand, if you feel like doing some harder labor in Darktown, you could help me there too."

"Sometimes you are," Kaisa replies breezily, a wicked grin on her lips. "At least you talk back. That's a mixed bag, but at least when you do it, I don't have to worry I ate the wrong kind of wild mushrooms." She spends a moment giggling at her own hilarious sense of humor, before shaking her head, waving a hand dismissively.

"I wouldn't ask you to tear yourself away from all your very important duties for someone as insignificant as me. Just, you know. Some Warden. No one special..." Kaisa manages to look morose for all of a whole second, before her lips quirk back into a smile, and she shakes her head. "No, but seriously--don't worry. Who knows how long we're staying here, anyway." She shrugs, taking a sip of her beer. "I never decorated because I never stayed anywhere long enough. Nothing to say that won't be the case now, too."

And as an afterthought: "Of course I'd help down there, though. Most of those people are Fereldan refugees, aren't they? I'd be glad to do what I can for them."

"Being constantly on the run isn't always a bad thing." A beat for dramatic effect. "It's simply mostly bad, unless you happen to enjoy scrounging for food and sleeping on the ground, all the while feeling pursued and hunted. Then you're good."

It's teasing. He knows Wardens get sent everywhere at anytime, and it's not just mages that get chased.

"All the same, I'll find time and give you a hand." Even if it takes juggling obligations, he wants to do it. Friendships are kept by working with others and spending time with them on top of what time they spend together on the field.

"If I didn't, well. You're Fereldan. You'd likely decorate in shades of mud and blood, as encouraged by the refugees you come down to help." He grins back at her. They're not all Fereldan refugees anymore, they're a mix of the desperate and needy and hurting, and he'll help as many as will let him.

"Do I get a prize if I guess which parts are untrue?" Kirk asked with a teasing twist to his lips at the woman's proclamation. He knew there was a reason he liked this tavern - or just about any tavern in Thedas. They were the equivalent of Earth dive-bars. These - these were his people. Sort of. Close enough for him to let it count after a year on this world.

"What--hey, no. That's not how you're supposed to listen to a story." Kaisa shoots a grin at him, shaking her head. "It's an experience, you don't sit there picking out the true bits, like some picky kid pulling carrots outta the soup. You gotta sit down and eat the whole thing, or it's not the soup your Momma made." The analogy may be a little stretched, but it gets the job done, Kaisa figures. Her light tone and mischievous grin makes it clear that she's not being real serious, though.

Either way, she takes a sip of her beer, watching Kirk thoughtfully over the rim of the mug. "But I suppose if you want to try your hand at it, I wouldn't say no. It'll be a fun challenge." Between the bullshit she can make up, and the crazy shit that happens to her regularly, it's always fun to see how far she can press the line, what people will believe and what they won't. After a moment, she raises her mug to Kirk, smile slipping into a smirk. "I'm sure I can get a hold of something or another as a reward. We're surrounded by alcohol, after all."

"Challenge accepted then," he grinned, moving a few seats closer to her. He crossed his legs and leaned on his knee, chin cradled in the palm of one hand, the most attentive of bar goers.

He had technically already lost a similar game to Ogrhen, but no need for her to know that, and the dwarf had provided excellent practice. Regardless of victory, it would be fun, and he happily took up the chance at anything to distract from the ever present misery of this town. Or certain parts, he supposed.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Well, an attentive audience is always nice, even if they're going to be spending half the time trying to suss out any lies in your story. But details are details, and Kaisa isn't about to turn down a rapt audience. She takes a long drink of her beer, sets it down, and begins to tell her story.

"Okay, so, one time, I saved this Antivan merchant princess, right? I won't get into that, it's just your standard 'beat up bandits and save the day' kind of deal, everyone and their mom has one of those in their back pocket. The important bit here is that, while I'm aware that I'm basically irresistible, I guess I was more irresistible than usual, because the Antivan princess ended up deciding I was her true love. Which, I mean, that's flattering, thanks, but princesses come with a lotta issues. Like her father. A merchant prince who had an arranged marriage all set up for his daughter. Except now she's telling him she's gonna run off with me. While I'm still standing there, mind you." As she speaks, she gestures about freely, hands telling as much of the story as her words.

"So I'm just standing there waiting for payment for the rescue, and they're having a row right in front of me, and then the prince turns to me, and he starts in after me about ruining his daughter. And I'm just like, listen here, Lord Chucklefuck, no one asked me if I wanted to run away with a princess. And, no offense, but I'm not really interested in committing to your daughter like that. I mean she was hot, don't get me wrong, but I've got things t' do, and I can't have a princess following me around while I'm doing it. Unfortunately, that I didn't want to elope with his daughter was more offensive, somehow. So then, I had both of them yelling at me." She shakes her head, a wry smile on her face. "Rich people, right? Never satisfied."

Kirk nodded his head, sipping his drink as she spoke, taking it all in. It was certainly quite the charming tale, and he found himself grinning and laughing as she told it, appreciating it for the amusing piece that it was. He seemed to fine it particularly hilarious that a little merchant princess had decided Kaisa was her wife out of the blue.

"Okay, so, the lie is that you called him Lord Chucklefuck to his face," Kirk said after wiping some tears from his eyes, having been howling for the last several minutes at the climax of the tale.

If there were anyone else in the room, when Alistair glanced through the door, he would have kept walking. Probably. Maybe. He isn't actually very good at being respectful, where the Chantry is involved. Blah blah terrible childhood trapped in an abbey blah. Plus the incense can sort of go to your head, he thinks. Anyway, whether he would or wouldn't interrupt if Laisa weren't alone is immaterial, because she is alone, and he does interrupt, stopped in the doorway with one shoulder leaning against the frame.

"I didn't know you were religious," he says, "or that you were back."

Alistair's voice cuts through the still air, and Kaisa jolts upright when she hears it. Swiveling around, the surprise is already on track to being replaced by a wry smile, as the voice registers with her. Sure enough, there's Alistair, and he's promptly greeted with a raised hand and a smirk. She adjusts herself in the pew to look more loose, more comfortable, like she'd just been there chillin' and illin' instead of, you know, having religious contemplation.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Senior Warden Alistair." Her voice is low and spooky, and might have been convincing if she could get the smirk off her face, and maybe not wiggle her eyebrows while she said it. "Maybe I'm not back. Maybe you just missed my wonderful presence so much that you began hallucinating me." There's a beat, where Kaisa stares contemplatively at her hand. "But I don't think you could imagine someone this pretty."

Then she turns to Alistair properly, lazily gesturing with her hand. "It's not like I'm about to go join the Chantry--But I've always been fond of the idea behind it. The Chant, the Maker. I just don't think I need t' go around barking about it like I got room to judge anyone. Where would that get me? Just pissing people off, and it doesn't make me any better, yanno?" She pauses, considering what she's just revealed, and decides that maybe trying to chat right after prayer might not be a good idea. She shrugs, as if to brush it off.

"But, I mean, what do I know."

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You drink the wise blood [Open]

Hanged Man

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Chapel

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chapel;

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regretting now we didn't thread chapel brawl 2k17

its never too late to throw down

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meee

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Hanged Man

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the hanged man

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chapel, sorry I'm late.

i'm late too dw