faderift | We Were Born To Make History

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We Were Born To Make History

WHO: Adasse Agassi, Teren The Scary Mom Warden, and You.
WHAT: Entering Stage Darktown, A Thief
WHEN: Last week of Kingsway
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: The fight between Teren and Adasse has already been scripted, but feel free to have your character have 'been there'. There will be an open under that.

Teren and the No Good Very Bad Assassin - (The Letter Thief) - Closed

Getting on the wrong side of one of Kirkwall's many gangs was not something that Adasse had a habit of getting into - but he'd been distracted with the disappearance of Haelan and the worry that his best friend had finally hit the wrong side of a fellow but way older pocket by the name of Prickles. To that end, his head wasn't in the game when he took the job for the Dockside Harlots (seriously, what was up with these names? They just kept getting worse every year) - and so he dropped the parcel when on the run from the Kirkwall guard.

The Harlots were not exactly the forgiving types, and Adasse had to promise to take on a high-risk job. The Harlots wanted in on some Inquisition shipments that were going across the water to the Gallows, and so they needed to know the schedule for the next big shipment. Adasse was tasked to grabbing correspondence from an important Inquisition 'nob', because no-one really knew how the Inquisition managed to talk to one another over such long distances unless they had the fastest crows in the business.

So there he was, having snuck over with the rest of a smaller crew bringing over supplies, picking up a bale of something as he scanned the Gallows courtyard. He spotted an older woman, stern face and grey in her hair, holding onto a tight bundle with some sort of important seal on it, and he shifted his direction to run directly into her, and snag a few of the letters, muttering apologies all the way, "So sorry, serrah, so sorry, please pardon me..."

Typical down-trodden city elf, pay him no mind while he slips away with the letters in his shirt.

Or, at least, that was how it was supposed to go.

The Letter Thief - Scouting For Trouble (get it?) - Open

Well, here he was.

Adasse dropped his sack down on the stone of the Gallows, looking around the area with his mouth pressing in a fine line. Here he was. Inquisition promised, scout for ... whatever this thing was. Political movement? Army? Religious Cult? Did they even know?

He sighed, and that caused a chittering inside of his shirt, where an oddly shaped lump rested. He grinned, peering inside of his shirt itself to the chocolate nug nestled inside. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Could be worse. We could be having the Harlots remove all our favorite bits. Still ..."

Another sigh. "Wish we knew what we were getting into. C'mon, let's go find a corner to crash in, some trouble to find." Picking up his sack again, he started moving across the Gallows. Old habits die hard though, and he was already practicing bumping into people with a cheeky smile and a "So Sorry."

Nothing was grabbed. Yet. But it wouldn't do to lose the edge, now would it?

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Adasse leaned back, both eyebrows raised, before the dark look on his face melted into a laugh. He shook his head a little, rubbing one hand through his hair.

"You Inquisition lot - I get pinched for nabbing a letter and threatened within an inch of my life. I go to practice nabbing actual purses and I get asked to give lessons." He eyed her fancy face painting. "And by a Dalish no less, well well. All right there, first lesson is free."

He brought his other hand from around his back, where he was now holding her journal. "Always get in close as possible, even when they're grabbing you. You can make out like a bandit when they think they got you over a barrel."

Putting the journal back in her hand, he waggled his eyebrows. "Any further lessons will cost you a drink a piece at whatever tavern they got over here."

Her face falls a little at seeing her journal in his hand, but she nods and accepts it, putting it into her pocket once more.

"See, I need to know how you slipped your fingers in. Does gripping hard with the other hand help lessen how much of the pickpocket hand the target will feel?" If that's part of the paid lesson, she can tell him about the local taverns too, but Ellana is always full of questions.

"It's all about being quick and fast, and knowing your mark. You'll see that most thieves don't wear vest if they can help it - " he nods to her outfit - " - too easy for someone to slip their hand in. Their coin purses are usually tucked inside their clothes, as well. When you turned half-way, your clothes gaped open."

He tapped the side of his nose. "You're right on about the grip, though. Putting pressure on another part of their body means they won't feel the fingers, but like I said. Quick, and fast." He frowned at her hands for a moment, and then held out his, palms flat. "Squeeze my hands with your fingers. Hard as you can."

Ellana makes a bit of a face at that, because most of her clothes don't fit really well. It's not like the Inquisition was expecting a bunch of rail thin elves to join their ranks, so everything gapes open like that. Button down shirts are completely out. Way too much fabric and space between the buttons.

"I'll work on where I stash my things." She looks down at his offered hands and gives it a try, placing her fingers around his and squeezing down hard, which from the size of her, means it's not that hard.

"Yeah ... if you're going to be a decent pocket, we're going to have to work on your finger strength." He stated with a frown, shaking his head. "Right now you couldn't lift a candy off a baby with those fingers, not without getting caught out. Still, you've got the build for it. Light, small, can move fast. How are you at running away from trouble?"

"I'm great at it. Very good at not being seen." Because, you know, she cheats with magic. At least she has something to do with this whole stealth thing that she's actually good at. The rest has taken a lot of lessons and practice, with this being the newest thing to add to the list. But it keeps her busy, and especially now more than ever, she needs that. Breakups aren't easy, and without filling her day with things like lessons, she ends up moping too much.

"All right, good. Then we'll work on your grip first, then on the hand-slip. You'll need to get a small water skin, and some sand. Put the sand into the water skin, and spend at least thirty minutes a day just squeezing it with both hands."

Thirty minutes? Her hands are going to ache so much! But he's the expert here, so she'll do it; or rather, do as much as she can before the ache gets to be too much and she'll have to quit. With time, she'll eventually get up to thirty minutes.

"Right. Sounds like that's going to hurt for awhile before I get used to it."

Thirty minutes. It's what he did when he was ten, to make sure he had a solid grip. It was a method his father taught him, when he was a wee elf boy, for learning how to grip a horse's reins tightly. It worked pretty well with thievery.

"It will, but it'll be worth it. You'll be able to lift anything without dropping it in the middle of a slip. Next thing we'll have to work on is hand speed - you say you're quick so you should take to this part easy. But! That is another lesson and definitely a drink in the future."

"Yeah, all right. So I should work on this hand exercise for awhile, and when I feel I've got it, I come find you for that drink and lesson number two? Oh, what's your name, so I can track you down?" Ellana nearly forgot that bit and he'll be easier to find with a name attached.

"That's exactly right. I'm sure they'll have me on grub work all over the place to start - " Considering the circumstances in which he came here, after all. " - so just ask for Adasse at the Scouting headquarters or whatnot. They'll know what drudgery I'm up to."

"That's the way it goes," she says with an understanding smile. "You have to work your way up." And stop on the ladder rung you want. Ellana knows what it's like to be on a council, and how she was completely in over her head. Being between a grunt and a leader is fine by her.

"Ellana Ashara. Pleased to meet you."

"Like all things in life. It takes hard work and a little bit of charm, I'm guessing. Or at least not being charming at people who do not want to be charmed." Liiiiike Teren.

He stuck out his hand, with a smile. "Adasse Agassi. Huh - you're one of those in the Dalish clan, right?"

"I'm thinking you know about the latter, huh?" At least it sounds that way.

She shakes his hand firmly, and then puts her other hand forward to poke at him with a wink. She knows that he knows she can't outplay him, so she'll make it obvious and not even pretend to try and lift something from him.

"Formerly Dalish, I guess is the way to put it. But I'm keeping the name because I've earned it, and I think it might piss off certain people." Look, maybe Beleth doesn't care one way or the other if someone from her clan leaves and keeps the clan name, but Ellana thinks there's like a 85% chance she does, so Ellana will keep on flaunting it.

"Well let's just say that I got into your lovely organization by forgetting that particular lesson -- so I will remember it thoroughly in the future." He smirked faintly, before he laughed as she poked him. All right, this Dalish was all right.

Except she wasn't. He tipped his head to the side, surprise and amusement in one. "I didn't think you could quit being a Dalish. Isn't that just what ... you are?"

"I personally feel that you can leave your clan and still call yourself a Dalish elf if you want, but I prefer not to. The vallaslin will always mark me as one, though." She shakes her head. "It's a lot of issues I have with the way the Dalish view things that's long, involved, and probably something you don't want to hear. I'm just me. Ellana: an elf." An elf who is curious about the world and it's people, even though plenty of its people aren't curious about her. But she's way past the point of caring what others think of her. She speaks for herself, and no one else.

"So you don't believe in the Creators and all that?" Now he's giving her a more intent, thoughtful look. "How about city elf culture? You know much about your people behind walls? We got our own ways of doing things -- and it ... tends to be a bit more sensible for elven folk."

For example, if you could find one, most city elves liked roofs.

"I still believe in the Creators," she says with a shrug. "They have nothing to do with why I chose to leave the clan. And I've been getting to know people in the alienage here. Before that, I only knew city elves in the Inquisition, so I couldn't see them at home. But I'm learning." She's learning that they have just as much fire and pride within them as Dalish elves do, but they've have to stay put and let humans walk all over them while the Dalish poke at a few shems before running away.

Ellana loves roofs. And beds. And doors with locks! She wants to forever have the option to be alone behind a door she locks.

"Well ... then you're ... probably full Dalish except you know, clanless. Like that lady Merrill when she was living in the Alienage." He said slowly - because that was how it worked, right? If you didn't get kicked out you were still Dalish.

Still he brightened, "Well I've got lots of friends down in the alienage - so you ever want to come with me, just ask."

Still Dalish if you want to be, which she isn't sure she does.

"Oh, thank you! I have been visiting with Saoirse, but I'd like to come with you too. The children are so sweet and it's been fun getting to know them. But for now, I should probably let you get back to what you were doing."

Hey, Adasse never had any problems with anyone being Dalish, as long as they wanted to be and weren't you know, being forced into it and stuff.

"Well that sounds like fun." He grinned, before he gently tapped Coco's nose. "We'll see you later."

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We Were Born To Make History

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