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[Open] Say Hi To Haelan
WHO: Haelan and YOU!
WHAT: Haelan getting into trouble in Kirkwall- come and say "hello!" Or "Hey you stop thief!" as you perfer.
WHEN: Up to the end of this month
WHERE: Kirkwall! Specifically The Gallows, The Hanged Man and Lowtown in general
NOTES: Come and meet Haelan! Please let me know if you want a specific starter for your character
WHAT: Haelan getting into trouble in Kirkwall- come and say "hello!" Or "Hey you stop thief!" as you perfer.
WHEN: Up to the end of this month
WHERE: Kirkwall! Specifically The Gallows, The Hanged Man and Lowtown in general
NOTES: Come and meet Haelan! Please let me know if you want a specific starter for your character
The Gallows
This is technically only his second-week doing dirty work for the Inquisition. He's not had to do anything very dirty yet, apart from help clear out some old dusty storerooms, but from what he's heard they do far worse than that on a regular basis.
Luckily right no one has given him anything worse to do. Yet. Today, they've actually given him breakfast, which is a surprise, and although he's not sure what to do with the bowl and the spoon, he might just... keep them. No one told him specifically to bring them back, so they must belong to him now. That makes sense. So he wipes up the last dregs of soup with a bit of bread, shoves that in his mouth and shoves the bowl in his bag and the spoon in his pocket, as quick as he can so no one sees.
And then he has to go and be helpful. There's always work to be done, or so it seems, and anyone standing around idle for too long will get roped into doing something. Doing something is alright, but he'd much rather explore a little more. The Gallows overshadowed Kirkwall for so long, and it was the one place he'd never really explored much of. Now, under the guise of working, he can poke around where-ever he wants. If someone questions him, he can just say he was looking for something to do, or for someone. It's almost foolproof.
The corridors are big and wide and there's boxes and barrels piled against the walls. Doors led off on both sides and he's not entirely sure where to, but he's going to try one. There might be something interesting inside. Or at least, something worth borrowing.
Kirkwall's Lowtown
He likes Market Day. Market Day means crowds and crowds mean easy targets. Lowtown's purses are normally lighter than those of Hightown's residents, but there are more of them. And there tend to be less Guards- after all, who wants to Guard poor people? Anyway- there are a few rich merchants struggling up towards Hightown, servants and slaves burdened with goods, their overseers not paying enough attention. If he's lucky, he might bag a few extra pennies.
The trouble is, he's a known figure. As soon as one of the regular stall-holders spots him, they'll let out the alarm. It becomes a bit like a game then- stay away from the stalls, or hidden in the crowd, and swipe what you can. Slice the bottom of a coin-purse here, dip your hand in that basket there.
Of course, you don't expect for someone to grab you by the scruff of your neck, dragging you backwards. At least, not without some sort of shout. The sudden movement is soundless, apart from Haelan's undignified squeak.
Who would pounce on him without calling out thief? Slavers? Must be slavers!
"Get off me!"
The Hanged Man
"And then- and then I had to fight him off!" Haelan says, slurring just a little. "He'd got me into an alley and there were six of them! Ten! Ten Tevinter slavers! You could, you could tell, you know, because they were all Blood Mages- worse than normal mages, all covered in gore! And gold!"
Haelan shudders, reaching for his tankard and taking another swallow. This is the third he's had, and he should know better. But this is what happens, every time he gets a decent haul, instead of finding some safe place to hide his coins, he spends them on beer and little cakes and on stupid little trinkets. Every. Single. Time.
"But I got away, I had to fight them all off, all these mages and they were good mages too! One of them almost got me but I dodged and ran and climbed up onto a roof and they couldn't follow me, because... because they were weighed down by all the gold they were carrying! But I ran and I ran and got away."
He grins, brightly, at the other people at the bar. Anyone sober probably had the good sense not to listen, and frankly, anyone drunk had probably heard better tales told in the Hanged Man.
no subject
He very slowly, very cautiously gets to his feet.
He shouldn't have mentioned Coco. It makes it all too easy for people to identify them, and you don't ever give your name if you can help it. People can track you down far too easily.
"I should be going-" He says, stepping backwards, hoping to find the door just behind him.
But the door isn't just behind him, and he backs into a bookcase with enough force to send some of the books on the top shelf falling onto the floor. Most of them via his head first.
no subject
On the other hand, that sudden and catastrophic backing up has her wincing as the books strike his head. She pushes her chair back and stands up, maneuvering around the desk. "Maker, that sounded painful. Garahel--" She gestures to the mabari, who rushes over to help prop up the boy if he needs it. "Speak to me, please. Are you coherent?"
no subject
He doesn't move, not for a moment, blinking at the dog and then at the woman. He should go. He should leave. Mages are bad news, even if they have well-behaved dogs and seem like nice and ordinary people aside from the fact they're Wardens and therefore as unordinary as it's possible to be.
That thought rushes through his brain in a jumble and he reaches out to steady himself.
"What do you keep in those books?" He asks, looking at her again. They were heavy, really heavy. How can words weigh that much?
no subject
"Knowledge of the Veil, mostly. I'm hoping it can help me understand the rifts, and the shards that some bear. I'm the leader for the project, thus it's my responsibility.
...do you need to sit down?"
no subject
Or that his vision isn't... right.
Or maybe the room really is swimming in and out of focus.
"Sounds..." He begins, about to try and step forward, and in part falling, in part tripping over the dog. He lands on the floor, and groans again.
no subject
"Will you let me heal you?" She hates to see him in pain, but if there's a chance of him learning not to fear magic, it has to be his choice. Garahel whines again, his big eyes pleading for his new friend to not be injured anymore.
no subject
He turns his head to look at her, reaching out a little unsteadily towards the dog. It sounds so distressed, it makes his heart hurt as much as his head.
"You can do that?" He asks, a little dazed before he starts trying to get up. "'M okay."
no subject
Garahel responds with some nuzzling as Inessa focuses, and a soothing blue energy settles over Haelan. She's done this countless times, mostly during or after battle. More severe injuries require an actual Spirit Healer, but she's hoping that won't actually be necessary this time.
no subject
But that doesn't happen. In fact the strange fog in his mind clears and he's left feeling... well, alright.
He's still a little unsteady as he gets up, slowly, with the dog nuzzling under his arm to help him. Despite what a good boy the dog is being, Haelan can't tear his eyes away from the Warden.
"Wh- why did you do that?"
no subject
no subject
"Yes?" He replies, sure that she's expecting an answer, but not really understanding what she's said enough to give her any more detail than that.
But something compels him to say something else, some lesson learnt long ago, drummed into him by a long-suffering Chantry sister.
"I... er... Thank you?"
no subject
"You're quite welcome. If you need such assistance in the future, we are here."