Chance is the only game I play with, baby

[foxsays]

WHO: Araceli Bonaventura, Korrin Ataash, Anders, Fenris, Schrödinger's Teren
WHAT: The wooing of Capitán Gloriana Valdez by the Inquisition
WHEN: While everyone's adrift
WHERE: Llomerryn
NOTES: ooc post + full plot details

Gathering everyone together is the first bit of the easiest step of the plan. Settling them all at a table marginally more difficult considering who the company are (a Warden, two mages, a warrior, a rogue, not everyone best suited to liking one another but needs must) with less friendly, more curious eyes than Kirkwall on them as Araceli makes sure to keep herself between Korrin and Anders at the table when she comes back with drinks.

"Each captain is master - or aims to be - of their own destiny and of their ship but like everything it's about who you influence; is it your ship, is it a few ships, a small fleet, or is your word law?" Araceli leans close over her rum (watered, insultingly watered because she's a stranger and she hasn't earned the rights to the good stuff no matter how like them she looks without the hand or what she knows of a ship) with a smile as if she's telling a great story. That's what friends do in taverns. The people at the next table go back to their cards and Llomerryn Red. "I know the woman: Capitán Gloriana Valdez. A woman of reputation, three ships to her name, ties to the Felicissima Armada.

"Now," she pauses to take a drink, "what I'm proposing is that we go to her local - the Maker's Mark, what a name for a tavern, here of all places, "we need to woo her. So drink up, if you don't know the way we can all go, we look suitably roguish or fearsome or interesting to get in the door, some of us have faces befitting of reputation, no?" As plans go, it's a nice simple plan. Locate captain, woo captain, rewards. But she expects questions because you know, fearsome pirate captain, how does one woo a pirate captain, has anyone else heard tale of this dreaded woman and so on but it's a start at least.

(If anyone says what can go wrong she might try to sell you for kraken bait.)

Comments

[doneisdone]

People moving too carefully through a tavern might as well have signs on them that read either We Don't Belong Here or We're Up To No Good, and the former doesn't seem to be the case. Languidly sipping from her cup, Teren's eyes follow the pair, quickly darting away if they should look back at her. No need to give them any reason to avoid her, she's just a tired older woman having a drink.
Araceli is acknowledged with a glance and nothing more. Teren is poised to strike at a moment's notice, and isn't going to waste time with winks and nudges. She knows her duties and is good at them.

[foxsays]

When has anyone going for a captain ever been a good sign? (So many strange faces in the port, the thief reasons, to slip in and past and hide what they've found with one of them, disappear off - who'll be the bigger suspect? Strangers or someone you don't notice?)

Ascendant captain keeping something all hushed up like she's sitting there an empress, like she should be using the royal we like they do in Val Royeaux. No, doesn't sit right with them. Not at all. A few people come down the steps from the captain's seat, handy that for slipping in--

There are stairs from either side to make the approach but the captain went on the move, did she wear her coat, is it with her--

"Refill?" Araceli suggests, the bar being on the opposite side of the room to the thief which allows her to still see Teren and cut them off if needed. She doesn't know Teren's exact skills but there's a bit of reputation surrounding the Warden, gossip's given her that much.

[doneisdone]

"If you please," Teren replies, gulping the last of her drink to make it more convincing. She could've nursed it for a while, but lying only works when everything apart from the lie itself is feasible. She continues to watch the thief a moment, long enough to lock down their likely objective, then heaves a sigh and slips to her feet.
For all the world looking as though she's approaching the group to witness their revelry, Teren stands half a step behind the thief, who will suddenly feel the sharp tip of a concealed blade poised at their lower back.
"Consider carefully," she says in a low voice, only loudly enough for the person in front of her to hear.

[foxsays]

Is it to their credit - shorter than her but who isn't here save a precious few it seems - that they don't start hissing and cursing immediately? Maybe not, they're living in Llomerryn and this close they look human enough but shorter than might be expected. Elf-blooded perhaps. Plenty of folk out of Rivain live down this way too and if you've ever wanted to be an elf and treated same as other folk, word usually is to go to Rivain.

"Get that out of my back old woman," a male-sounding voice if not very deep coming out of them as they turn, all smiles. "Not going to like where you or it go if you don't."

[doneisdone]

Teren, being elf-blooded herself, would hardly jump to the conclusion that one must be short to have an elven parent. For all she cares, they're half-nug.
As the thief turns, her blade remains trained on him, now poking lightly at his midsection and ready to puncture his gut. "Indulge me," she quietly replies, her gaze meeting his squarely.

[foxsays]

Don't confuse nugs and dwarves, they've been working through that one for years, it's why the nug farmers never get to go topside don't you know. (Look sometimes a family is part-elf, part-dwarf, and a bit of human that just stumbled in along the way through various generations because that's how humans do.)

Gloriana is climbing the stairs from where she'd been at the card table with Fenris - absent her coat and ah, there it is, right on her seat at a table of folk drunk of her favoured rum so strong it can burn a hole through a weak stomach so the story goes unless Andraste granted you favour - and the thief tries to jerk free from Teren.

"What? Friends of yours?" No madness in the eyes but a defiant set to a narrow jaw. "None of your business, you ain't from here, don't concern you."

(They don't have long, if the captain sits this is so much harder to try, convince her, distract her, make a break and run; Araceli slinks along the end of the bar to the bottom of the stairs at the opposite side but Teren has this well enough in hand that she doesn't want to be a distraction.)

[doneisdone]

Teren follows the thief's gaze and smiles, a cold and mirthless expression that doesn't reach her eyes. Her knife remains where it is, and she shows no indication that it will move.
"You'll find it concerns me a great deal," she languidly replies, "what are your intentions? We've got work to do."

[foxsays]

Setting their jaw, a hand goes to Teren's wrist. They've got some strength on them but desperation and determination can help to make up for what a person lacks in other moments of their life.

"Yeah, like your work's in her brig missus." Confident of that this one is, real confident from the tilt of the jaw and the little sneer creeping over their mouth. "Let me do both of us a favour tonight, drop the knife, let me get what I'm getting and she'll not know a damned thing."

(Until the Inquisition gets the blame because they're a very convenient scapegoat in this scenario.)

[doneisdone]

They made a mistake grabbing for her wrist. Not that they didn't successfully do so, which they did, but grabbing Teren is always a risk, and she doesn't take well to it. Twisting her arm out of their grip, she uses the other one to shove it against their neck, hoping to pin them against the nearby wall with her forearm. The free hand has the knife at the ready, preparing to puncture the thief's belly if they should get sassier.

"Clear out of here," she hisses, "you've got one more chance."

[foxsays]

The shoving causes a commotion that brings that sends Araceli up the stairs as the thief starts to snap at Teren. But before they can get a word in they freeze, not just from Teren's hold of them but because of who they lock eyes with, the manic glint enough to have the captain striding over. Bodies part even though she's smiling as her hand comes to rest on the shoulder of the thief.

"I would listen to her, she looks a woman who could gut you well enough that you'd be able to clean up your mess before you were ready for the Maker's side if he'd have you," she says low enough for Teren and the thief to hear, the smile sliding off her face into a snarl as she speaks. "Why don't I have some friends escort you…"

Inclining her head, a stocky elven woman and a taller man push through the onlookers to take hold of the thief who struggles in their grasp but they're strong enough to lift them off the floor, legs kicking but accomplishing nothing.

She sighs, shaking her head. "The audacity, in this tavern of all places-- I thank you, for the intervention."

[doneisdone]

Teren steps back easily, allowing the captain to take over. Pensive, she watches the thief being dragged away, the gratitude seeming to flow right past her as she turns to address the captain. "What will become of them?"

[foxsays]

"A time in the coldest, wettest, darkest brig has a way of dredging the contrition up from the depths." Not that she, personally, would own a ship with a brig in such a condition but Gloriana Valdez can always find one, borrow it with a careful smile. "Planning to bargain for their life? I thought you were ready to paint the floor for me with them from the look you gave."

[doneisdone]

Teren's wince is almost imperceptible, the tiniest twitch of an eyebrow, her face otherwise unmoved. "No matter," she brusquely replies, looking unsmiling back at Gloriana, "I'll be off now, if you've no further need of me." She's not going to go after the thief, likely instead planning to find another dingy tavern and brood in it, this time without ulterior motives.