[OPEN] You've got your reasons / And me, I've got mine

[ragweed]

WHO: Kit + OPEN
WHAT: Back from the Korcari Wilds, Kit kicks about town finding trouble.
WHEN: Towards the end of August.
WHERE: The Gallows, Lowtown, Darktown.
NOTES: Will update as they become relevant.

The Korcari Wilds were strange, and the experiences had within them even stranger. Kit still can't completely shake the feeling of persistent dread that has hounded him since that night spent around the Chasind campfire listening to the words spun for him and the rest of his companions by the shaman. Since his return to Kirkwall, it has been easier for him to eschew the company of the friends he's made since arriving, though he knows it's beyond unreasonable to avoid them forever.



I. THE GALLOWS - TRAINING GROUNDS

About a week after his return from the Wilds, Kit rouses himself early enough to get to the training grounds before the sun has decided whether it's ready to drag itself above the horizon or not. There are a handful of dutiful Templars and other Inquisition soldiers at work there already, either engaging in sparring or in warm up exercises. Kit stands out like the sorest of thumbs among all the humans, but he's used to that.

He heads over to a rack of training war axes and examines them, picking them up to test the heft, then hanging them back up again. Truthfully, he's not even sure what he's doing here without an Inquisition scout trainee in need of remedial lessons to attend to; sleep just wouldn't stay with him.

It's a pity he isn't human; he can't even blame nightmares for keeping him awake.



II. KIRKWALL - THE HANGED MAN

It's easier to lose his money than it is for him to keep it, and he's doing a great job of proving that to himself again tonight. Card shark or not, there's always bound to be a night where even your best poker face isn't good enough, and this is one of those nights.

He's seated at a table near the back of the taproom floor surrounded by a number of other dwarves who, judging by the clean cut of their clothes and their absurdly coiffed beards, are likely representatives of the Merchants' Guild. It's not exactly clear when the stakes of this game got quite so high as to include Kit betting his tiny, exquisite carving of Paragon Hrildan, but that's where he's at now.

He sits very still in his chair, examining the hand of cards he holds in one hand while the other keeps a lit cigarette within easy reach of his lips.



III. DARKTOWN

He ends up in Darktown like it's ten years ago and he's in need of a spell of quiet. The darkness, the stink, the distance people give each other in lieu of making trouble, reminds him with a pang of bitter homesickness of Dust Town, and he almost can't conscience how much he misses it for one shitty moment.

There's a single rickety railing that exists to prevent the idle wanderer from tripping over their own feet and careening down into the depths of the channel leading into the city, and that is where Kit stands, smoking a cigarette and watching the small, distant shapes of the barges as they move through the gates.

Comments

[ragweed]

The flask is offered out to him again, and for a solid second or two Kit just stares at it. Then, hesitantly, he takes it in hand and has another drink. The bite and burn of it--as well as Oghren's silent acceptance of what he's just heard, without either forgiveness or condemnation--is an unexpected relief.

So he listens as he speaks, looks back to him finally, and offers the flask back out. "You ever hear about what happened to Branka?"

"A few things," he answers, though the way his brows draw together into the mildest of frowns suggests that maybe he doesn't know all the details. "What happened?"

[wardeneructate]

"I was married to her. Families got us hitched because it would look good. Her the rising power and me with my victories. Not something we wanted but when those with the money talk you don't have a say. Even when you got money yourself. Well, they named her Paragon and that just made things worse. Old Branka got in her head to go down into those roads to look for the Anvil. By then I'd already become a disappointment. A drunk. Whole clan went down there and left me behind."

He gave a bitter laugh. He wasn't looking for sympathy here, just stating the facts. Kit wanted to know so he figured he'd tell him. Not like he was hiding it anyway.

"You know, I hated that woman. Hated her so much I found I gave a piss about what happened to her. That kind of hate that makes you love someone. Worst thing ever. So I tried to get someone to go after them. No one was going to listen to a drunk though. Not until the Warden. Came in there and even made me part of the mess. Still don't know what he was thinking."

That got another laugh but this time it was more out of nostalgia than anything. "Turns out Branka had lost it. Went sodding mad and got everyone killed in the process. In the end we had to kill her off and I certainly got a blow in there. Wasn't an accident but I sure wasn't staying in Orzammar after that."

He gave a shrug. "Haven't been back since then. Went on to make more mistakes after that. It's not killing a friend on accident but we've all got some boulders to carry around."

[ragweed]

Oghren speaks, and Kit listens, because under these circumstances it's impossible to do anything else. The story is a familiar enough one to him, though the details that Oghren fills in explain some absences in the narrative as Kit originally heard it. He nods almost imperceptibly at some points, winces at others.

The madness of Paragon Branka had reached him and his even in the Deep Roads. It doesn't surprise him to learn that she wouldn't part with her discoveries, or her ambition, without forcing bloodshed.

"It's not killing a friend on accident but we've all got some boulders to carry around."

"A heavy weight," he agrees quietly. They're the words the shaman spoken to him in the Wilds, the words that brought back thoughts and memories that he's been outrunning for over a decade. He breathes out again, looks at the stub of his cigarette, then flicks it over the railing. "Wonder if we'll ever get to put them down."

[wardeneructate]

"Given how long I've carried mine?" Oghren nodded to the flask that Kit was still holding. "No wonder I keep turning back to the drink. Doesn't make it go away but it easier to pretend like it could."

They probably wouldn't be able to put that down until they died. Maybe they'd even carry the burdens to the grave. He had no idea but he knew that it was harder to put them down than it was to actually carry them around. Sodding terrible thing but that was what guilt and sadness and just bad memories did to a person.

"You can finish what's in there. I've got loads of bottles in my room. Probably the thing I collect the most of. That and puzzles but those are for someone else. Just waiting until I get the chance to send them."

[ragweed]

He's prepared to take his to the Stone with him--assuming there's anyone around when he goes to return him to it. Grief and regret can weigh him down over the years, but they can't bury him. Someone with hands will need to do that.

"You can finish what's in there. I've got loads of bottles in my room. Probably the thing I collect the most of. That and puzzles but those are for someone else. Just waiting until I get the chance to send them."

"Puzzles?" Kit repeats, surprised, but takes another swig from the bottle of the potent brew, since it's apparently his to dispose of as he sees fit. He cracks a little grin, though, a little glad for the subject to shift to something less grim. "You like brain teasers or something?"

[wardeneructate]

"Me? Ha! I haven't got a brain for the sodding things. Nah, it's my nugget who likes them. Gets a kick out of figuring them out. He didn't get his brains from his da that's for sure."

He tapped his head when he talked about brains as if emphasize the fact. As if that wasn't already obvious. Oghren knew he was never going to be the brains of any operation which was honestly just fine with him. He liked being the muscle that was sent in to hit things until it died. Yep, that was a real good role for him.

"Lives with his ma across the waters."

[ragweed]

"You've got a kid?" Kit doesn't sound startled exactly, though if he's being honest, Oghren didn't strike him as the family type. Still, it's impossible to miss the note of clear pride in his new friend's voice as he speaks of his son, and Kit finds himself warming to it immediately, his grin settling in on his face.

"Lives with his ma across the waters."

"That's great, Oghren," Kit says, and sounds very much like he means it. He almost laughs. "Ancestors--I doubt kids are ever going to be in the cards for me, salroka, but there's something special about watching them grow up. I traveled with this mercenary company bout five years back, and the captain had a little girl. Knee-high to a nug at the time, she loved trying to pick up my axes."

He smiles, eyes gone distant but without the darkness from before. Then he looks back at Oghren, coming back to himself a little bit. "What's his name? Your little guy, I mean."

[wardeneructate]

"You can't go telling people. I tell people his name is Bartab." You know. Like a bar tab. Oghren almost looked a little flustered as he scratched his beard a bit. "Named him Jonas."

After the Warden Jonas Cousland. Sure the man had had moments of being a tosser but he'd done a lot for Oghren all the same. Gave him a chance when the world had given up on him. Twice honestly. After all he'd been all for helping Oghren to become a Warden.

"Warden did a lot for me so I felt like I could honor him that way. Just don't want anyone thinking I've gone soft."

[ragweed]

Bartab. Kit chuckles quietly at that, then listens to the rest, his smile fading a little bit. He nods; that's a mentality he can definitely understand.

"Warden did a lot for me so I felt like I could honor him that way. Just don't want anyone thinking I've gone soft."

"Well they won't hear it from me," Kit tells him, then looks back over the railing down to the ships. After a moment, he sighs and starts to push himself back up to his feet. "I should probably get back to the Gallows," he admits.

[wardeneructate]

He laughed a bit and actually gave the dwarf a slug on the arm. This was one he'd do a solid for no questions asked, that was what he decided in that moment. Good guy. Had his head on straight and everything. Something Oghren could get behind no matter what your past happened to be. After all he had his own messy background to attend to.

"Go on. Hit me up anytime you want a drink or something. Fair warning though. I'll drink you under the sodding table." He laughed after that though something said that he wasn't joking.

[ragweed]

"Go on. Hit me up anytime you want a drink or something. Fair warning though. I'll drink you under the sodding table."

"I'll take you up on that, salroka," Kit said and gave him a crooked grin. He clapped Oghren on the shoulder once, then heaved himself up to his feet. "Take care, eh?"

He turns to leave, spirits a little lighter than they were previously.