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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.
Gallows
With her cat-sized dragon lounging around her neck like a very scaley, toothy, fire-breathing scarf.
Beleth had been trying to catch up on reports, and now she's had to stop to contemplate why this child is barging into her office without even bothering to knock. She stares at him for a few moments, his face not quite registering with her. Maybe he was one of the children frequently employed by various people to courier messages around Kirkwall?
"Can I help you...?"
no subject
Can I help you...?
Typically, there is someone inside.
He shuffles in, trying to look a) innocent and b) like he's not snooping.
That lasts as long as it takes to spot the dragon. It's a dragon. There's no way it can be anything else. It's not a lizard or a demented cat or some sort of weird fake fur wrap. It's a dragon. He can see the smoke or steam or whatever it is as it breathes out through its nose.
His eyes go wide, his mouth opens and for a second, he's completely at a loss for words.
Then he recovers, just about. Although the woman inside probably doesn't need his bad language. Or the statement of the obvious.
"Andraste's Knickers, that's a dragon."
no subject
Beleth, however, remains awake and alert, staring expectantly at Haelan. Not that she's surprised by his surprise, of course. It is, after all, a dragon, a miniaturized baby though it might be.
"It's cold," She retorts defensively, reaching up to pet the dragon's side, before remembering that she doesn't have to defend herself to some random urchin that just wandered into her room. Squinting, she turns back to him. "...I am trying to run a division, here." The reminder is given with a raised eyebrow, and a gesture to her paperwork, spread out across her desk. "Did you have something you needed to report to scouting?"
no subject
He files that away, in time for her to drop the hint that actually, she's very busy.
But that's not all she's saying, is it? Haelan vaguely recalls someone telling him about an elven woman with weird eyes and dark hair being the Scout boss. Which... in effect makes her his boss. Which means barging into her office without good reason is probably a way to end up in the dank dungeon downstairs. Especially if she suspects he was looking for any interesting curios to swipe.
Think, Haelan!
"Are... are you Beleth Ashara, Messere?" He asks, hoping that she's not but certain that she is. "I'm Haelan. Just got conscr- signed up. I was sent up here to... to find out if there's anything you need me to do?"
Smooth. Really smooth.
no subject
"...How old are you, exactly?" Are they recruiting children, now? He's the age most Dalish just consider starting to leave their apprenticeships. But then, she supposes there have been other teenagers among their numbers. She'll just have to make a note not to let him get into any particularly dangerous work.
Across the room from her is a bookshelf with files, and she crosses to it, looking over it and plucking one of the files and opening it. Leafing through the papers, she occasionally glances up at him, then back down again, trying to match him to descriptions of new recruits. "...And you're Haelan, then?"
no subject
Haelan's eyes dart the way she's heading, to a shelf full of files and he supposes he's got a little entry in there somewhere- one with all everything laid bare. So yes he's a little young, so yes he didn't join up willingly. If she has all that information to hand, there's no point denying anything.
"Old enough to know Thedas is in big trouble, Messere." He answers the next question. So he shouldn't be cheeky, but the fact is he can't tell her how old he is, exactly. "About seventeen, Messere." He adds, just in case she doesn't think he should be cheeky either.
"That's right. Wouldn't want anyone else to be me. Wouldn't wish that on anyone at all."
She's going to give him a job to do, isn't she. She's going to give him work. He should have just run away.
no subject
Still.
"Haelan. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm glad that I have the chance to speak with you, now." She shuts the file, tucks it away, and moves back to her desk, leaning against it as she turns to him. "It's my job to make sure that you are able to perform your job to the best of your abilities. As such, please let me know if you want training in any skills that you may be called upon to use. If I can't personally help you, I'll find you a tutor who can."
And then she clasps her hands together, and gives him a polite smile. "So, what kind of experience do you have, and what are you hoping to accomplish while you're here?" Beleth Ashara, resident scout guidance counselor, at your service.
no subject
"Er," He says, really not expecting to be offered anything apart from some unpleasant work to do. Training? For him? Have they not heard about how badly that always goes?
"I... er..." Haelan stops, and thinks. He might as well try to sound half sensible if this lady really is going to be his boss. He probably won't impress her, but she might not think he's stupid. "That really depends on what you want me to do, Messere?"
He relaxes a little, although still tries to keep from his habitual slouch. "I've lived in Kirkwall's Darktown and Lowtown for two years and no one's killed me yet? I can sneak into places. And... most of the time I don't get caught. And I'm really fast."
no subject
Beleth, for her part, neatly interlaces her fingers and rests her hands on her lap, patiently waiting for Haelan to finish fumbling for words. She listens carefully to what he has to say, and nods along a little. Thoughtful silence fills the room once Haelan finishes speaking, and it's only after Beleth has mulled it over a little that she begins speaking.
"Most importantly: How are you at combat? Both fighting, and defending yourself. I'll try to avoid sending you to places where there will be a great risk, but I'm afraid that it's all but impossible to avoid risk in Thedas these days. I'd rather you be prepared for it than not." He must have some kind of ability to defend himself, if he's survived this long, but will it do any good in open combat? Beleth wasn't going to wait until there was an Incident to find out.
"I think for now, you'll mostly be dealing with small things--sending along classified messages, delivering important items. I'll also be asking you to keep your ear to the ground--gossip and rumors are the lifeblood of a city. To know the former is to know the pulse of the latter." She drums her fingers on her lap thoughtfully. Instinct says to coddle him, he's still so young, and life is so harsh. But common sense says that anyone who's lived in Darktown already knows that lesson.
"As I get a feel for your abilities and you begin to train them, you may be called upon for more. But I won't throw you into the deep water and hope for the best."
no subject
She's looking at him. Looking st him like she can read him like a book and that's intensely worrying for a young man. He fidgets a little, but tries to keep looking back at her, at least until she breaks the silence.
"Mostly I avoid it, Messere. But I can handle a knife if I have to, and as long as you got someone watching out for you when you're watching out for them, it's normally okay."
He shifts his weight a little. He knows Adasse is better at fighting than he is. He probably wouldn't be here if it weren't for the sly, skinny elf. "I appreciate not being thrown in the deep water. I could... probably do with some more training with blades."
Especially as if she is thinking of spending him on anything more dangerous that courier work, against mages or men with sowrds, he's going to need all the help he can get.
no subject
She nods again, glad that he's had at least some experience. "Handling a knife is a start. But I agree, you should have more training, especially as our goals progress, and hopefuly, you progress as well. However, I'm an archer, and not particularly skilled in close combat weapons, either. I'm actually taking lessons for it, as well." There's another moment of thoughtful silence, but this time, it's directed at the shelves of files off to the side, rather than Haelan. After staring at the files a bit, she seems to come to a conclusion.
"Kithan Gandir would best serve as your trainer, I think. He's a dwarf, a member of the Legion of the Dead, if you know much about that. What is particularly important is that he's volunteered to train anyone who needs it, and he has more experience than either of us put together."
She turns to Haelan, a polite smile on her face. "He's not a hard man either, if you're worried I'm sending you to someone who'll work you to the bone. He can be found in the training area most days, but you can also use your sending crystal to contact him--you have received that, yes? Did someone explain how it works, and everything?"