faderift | Chance is the only game I play with, baby

Entry tags:

Chance is the only game I play with, baby

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.)

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

After a few weeks away, it's perhaps understandable that Korrin only has eyes for her kadan. She won't make a big display of it while there's work to be done, but that 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' line is definitely true for her. She accepts the drink with a warm smile and nods across the table to Fenris and Teren, but turns her attention back to Araceli as she speaks. How she's missed that voice. Listening intently to the overall plan, she nods and quirks a smile.

"It seems I've returned just in time for the fun stuff." Red lyrium krakens do not count as 'fun', she's so glad she missed that. "You know I'm in, kadan. Odds are she'll want the challenge of trying to outdrink a 'qunari', and I can give her that. Of course she'll try to cheat...but that's why I'm not doing this alone."

Edited 2017-10-02 20:07 (UTC)

It's an interesting group. He's amused by its makeup and trusts Araceli to be in control of it, which means he's mostly relaxed as he carefully sips his heavily watered down drink. The water he's thankful for; he can't outdrink most average people on the street.

"While I've wooed a pirate captain before, that day is effectively behind me." Anders smiles; he knows what she means and he's in a good enough mood to tease. "I'd like to go with the group. My reputation could be enough to get me in the door, but appearing to have backup is always the safest way to go when entering into someone else's territory."

It would help them not be underestimated and could bring respect. Possibly. Everything depends on what this particular captain is like.

At least he's had quite a bit to drink. Not enough to make him drunk, of course, since he wants to keep his wits about him... but just enough so he can tolerate Anders being involved. He hadn't counted on that when he'd come along to hear what Araceli really wanted, but, well... sometimes you can't choose. He'll deal.

He gives Korrin a friendly nod, then considers what has to be done. Is it wooing in the traditional sense? Or might there be other ways to handle that?

"I'm sure I could manage something. Even if it's simply getting her to sit down for a round or so of cards." Gambling is always a pretty good option when it comes to pirates, after all, and he's shown Araceli his skills with that. As for reputation... there's no problem there.

Well she's absolutely assembled the right team for this it seems and she downs her own drink, eager enough to be off and get things going though they might as well clear up as much as they can on the go.

"If someone can try to keep an eye on someone else while we're there? We're the strangers here and this is very much her place, leaving someone alone with her isn't a great idea. If you're playing cards? At least one of us can be dealt in. If you're drinking, we can all join in for a round or two?" She offers the suggestion out as she rises to her feet, nodding to the door before she smiles at Anders. "Don't worry, your husband doesn't need to come after a pirate, I wouldn't ask someone to do anything like that."

Flirting? Yes, that's usually part of the job but that can be passed off if it ever gets uncomfortable after all. "I think we need to actually see her, sit at the table - see what sort of lady it is before we start with the wooing, no?" At least it's not the longest walk to the Maker's Mark, just long enough for anyone who might've heard anything else to pass on more information otherwise they won't have trouble getting in and spotting the captain.

She's holding court after all, just get through the crowd and be ready to start making introductions.

Korrin nods thoughtfully after she takes a swig. Her kadan has a fair point, or several. "Some surveillance can't hurt, to be sure. We can alter our approach as need be, with what we find out from that. And I completely agree, this isn't the place to wander off alone. That's a great way to cut down on our numbers, so let's not. Keep the crystals handy, and keep alert even if you have a partner. Can't be too careful, there."

He resists a stupid urge and nods along, slightly proud of himself for not teasing. Maybe it would be harmless, but there's a chance telling Korrin he's flattered she doesn't want their numbers cut down could backfire so he won't. Araceli deserves better than sidetracks like that.

The walk is nice and easy, and getting in to the tavern itself is also easy. He likes easy. He also likes the look of a card game right near the captain they're trying to get to, mostly because it has low stakes and he has a habit of losing. Anders jerks his head toward it, glancing at Fenris.

"We could play a hand there, catch her eye and be invited to join her game? Or you can do the latter. I'd like to walk away with pants to my name." He pulls out a handful of coppers, the apparent ante to join, and grabs one of the empty chairs, in clear sight and hearing of the pirate captain... who he winks at.

This pirate captain is enough of an unknown that it's all a pretty sound idea. They don't have any sort of advantage here that they would in more Inquisition-heavy territory, so they have to play it safe. Fenris is willing to go along with this idea, keeping an eye on the others... especially those who might be attempting to out-drink her, considering how that could end up. Though he trusts Korrin to have some sort of trick up her sleeve for that.

There are a few looks as they enter the tavern, but nothing that indicates any suspicion. If anyone recognizes any of them, they seem fine with keeping it to themselves. All the better.

"And I'd prefer they stay put as well," Fenris remarks dryly to Anders, because there are some sights that he's just not eager to ever see, involving him. Pants are never optional. "That looks like it could work, though. I'm willing to start testing my luck." He's just glad he got back into the practice of playing again lately... Inquisition members seem always willing for a game, after all, and it's even been... fun, in some way, teaching the rifters the games that the others had once taught him. For now, he heads over, settling in and setting down the coin to join in the round. Ah, good, looks like they're playing Diamondback... an old favorite. He examines his hand expressionlessly, upping the bet when the time comes to do so.

Capitán Gloriana Valdez is an easy woman to spot. New arrivals into the Maker's Mark mean that someone informs her of them; a low whisper that travels about the room then drifts away as quickly as it came. Pirate taverns where business and pleasure sit at the same table quite comfortably since that's the only way to live after all, and her eyes settle upon them to weigh, to measure.

What an odd-looking company. A wave of her hand and people shift about her as the rest settle, one or two coming to join the card game to observe, to jostle, one ribbing the man next to Fenris for having so many aces up his sleeve you hear them blowing in the wind. Another isn't too far from Anders, seemingly determined to get everyone to laugh with the worst jokes anyone has ever heard all pointedly about the people present. Many of them are about belaying pins. And why is he waggling his eyebrows when he says spin a capstan while maintaining direct eye contact if you even glance in his direction.

No one is laughing. Well he's laughing? Honestly how no one has thrown him out is a wonder. Araceli mutters something about dad jokes under her breath but endeavours to try to ignore it as she keeps an eye out since someone should act like a lookout as a dwarven woman strides over to Korrin, sizing her up. She has to just about shout over the din but it's something about how it's been a while since they've had one of the grey folk in here to put up a challenge and if she's thirsty.

An odd-looking company, indeed, and Korrin's glad that it seems to work to their advantage. They wanted to be noticed and that has indeed been accomplished, with relatively little effort...so far. The real challenge is likely to come, and with that in mind though the Vashoth woman is sure to smile and nod and look social, she's never truly off her guard.

Diamondback looks entertaining, of course, but with Anders and Fenris having that covered, Korrin has little reason to join in herself. That holds doubly true when the dwarven woman makes her way over and, understanding the gist of what's said, she grins. Her own voice doesn't need much effort to carry, even given the ambient noise all about. "Hell yeah, I'm in. Bring on the good stuff, and let's do this."

Teren hadn't told them she was meeting them here, either because she's Teren and doesn't care, or because none of them knew. Either way, she looks not at all surprised to see them from her corner of the room, which seems to manifest a dark shadowy quality just by virtue of her being there. She doesn't find the shady corners: they follow her.
She's watching the company of pirates while sipping a glass of wine, an innocuously unattractive and unfriendly middle-aged woman in a tavern of similar faces. If things go south, she'll arrive out of nowhere with knives through throats. In the meantime, wine.

He's losing. Horribly. It's no surprise to him, and it's likely no surprise to Fenris either. Anders just doesn't have a good game face and he lacks luck. Within just a couple of hands he's out of what he'd been fine with losing and he stands, shaking his head and making room for someone else to sit down.

Casually he winds up near Fenris, keeping in mind the partner comment from earlier. They're watching each others' backs here and the mission is far more important than history.

"Do you know what a pirate's favorite letter is?" he asks the listeners at large, a small smile on his face.

"...R?" asks one after a beat. "We've heard that before. We're not really running around saying arrrr all the time."

"The C, actually," Anders replies, glancing over to see if Araceli will comment about bad jokes again. Or was it dad jokes? He's pretty sure she said bad, and he enjoys his bad jokes.

The woman scoffs when she hears that, as if she's heard it half a hundred times before and another half a hundred before that again because she has. You don't get to be a dwarf in Llomerryn working for this captain if you don't see all that there is to see in life so she inclines her head respectfully towards her captain, other sailors turning; one sporting a truly impressive moustache to the left of the captain, next to him someone with tattoos where hair might have been and ears too damaged to tell if they were ever elven or not, and next to the vacant seat left for Korrin another woman with braids to her hip.

"Capitán," the dwarven woman grins and takes her leave as the hand waves her away.

"The guest of honour is here," Gloriana Valdez has a low voice for a woman but the commanding tones of one that draw every ear, tell them to listen close. "I am Capitán Gloriana Valdez, it's been too long since we've had one of you at the table for very long. They were, well, there are tariffs in every port and if I say the maraas-lok is to be paid then it is to be paid. Unfortunately the last one in that seat couldn't handle what we like here, something you won't get anywhere else."

A snap of her fingers and a barman strolls over with a bottle, two small tankards but when he makes to pour she interrupts-- "I have a guest. Inquisition," she tells him and he leaves. As she pours it out, she continues. "This is Andraste's Mercy, I'm sure you can guess why we called it that."

"Fly away birdman!" The call is aimed at Anders as he leaves the table from someone who looked like he really needed to piss but just really wanted to play cards. (For the sake of his purse, let's all hope his skills or poker face are better than his wit because that's a dull edge there sir.)

Anyway, no one seems to mind Anders being a spectator because cards are just as much fun for those watching - indeed, there's a whole lot of betting on the side about the bets on the table and the winners, at least one person has decided to throw in for Fenris being an unknown element as he is - until he speaks. And then there's a lull. It stretches for just long enough for them to parse C and sea before they laugh uproariously, a pint being sloshed over a bosom that gets a 'friendly' punch to the face. "Oh- oh another, let's see...why couldn't the pirate play poker?"

Spying Teren means Araceli can make her way over, a small smile on her face until that joke hits - yes, Anders she groaned because her dad is a pirate so bad jokes are dad jokes and dad jokes are bad jokes to her, this is the dad zone rule - and she hides it behind her drink. "Warden," she greets carefully, "I'm glad of an extra set of eyes tonight in here."

Edited 2017-10-13 18:29 (UTC)

ooc; drinking contest is continued here
cards and puns is continued here
thief stoppage is here

Edited 2017-10-15 20:57 (UTC)

There's always some posturing and bragging during drinking contests, if not outright trash-talk, so Korrin just grins at the scoffing dwarf. Perhaps she'll be bested, but that won't be from lack of trying or talent. And she trusts Araceli's sharp eyes and wits, as soon as her own.

As the captain introduces herself, she responds with a polite nod. "Korrin Ataash of the Valo-Kas, and something I can't get anywhere else is definitely worth a taste." Maybe she'll regret it later...but that's later. She inspects the drink with interest, then smirks at the name. "I can guess, and I'm still interested."

Nope, no backing away here. And with that, she's ready to drink when all have their own.

"Nothing else to turn your hands to? Mercenaries or hired muscle," she knocks back half her drink after that without any reaction but a smile. "Is that what you are? You and the Inquisition?"

Rumour of course comes this way but what person comes out and says it, that's why they're here isn't it? She knocks back the other half. One down on her end.

"It's no surprise, I'm sure." Korrin shrugs, knowing Tal-Vashoth as anything other than mercenaries or bandits is practically unknown to most folk. She knocks back half of her own drink, feeling her throat burn a little but controlled enough not to sputter it back out.

"As for the Inquisition, I'm sure you've heard the story by now. There's a powerful asshole out there who thinks of us as ants and reality as we know it a stepping stone to godhood. He punched a whole into the Fade and he'll do it again, unless we stop his ass. Not to mention that fucking pet dragon of his, which looks as nasty as I've heard that archdemon during the Blight." She knocks back the rest of her drink, feeling it burn less this time. "That might seem far away...but the red filth changing the sea creatures and sea floor isn't. A kraken alone is bad enough, but a tainted one? The stuff of nightmares."

The captain pours a more generous refill this time, lifting her cup to gesture over to the rest of the tavern; some of the patrons are laughing with Anders, others are deeply invested in the playing or watching of the same card game as Fenris, most eyes have passed neatly over Teren save when she went to get her drink and Araceli as she joined her.

"In Llomerryn, everything reaches the ears of the captains. We knew when the Inquisition arrived in Kirkwall, that doesn't pass us by no, not at all, nothing will pass us by like that. They say a man can find his heart's desire for the right price in Llomerryn but we don't know you or yours, what you bring here," she leans forward as the rest around the table get on with their drinking; they know what they're needed for, blades should the captain need it, witnesses for a bargain because what else can this be called? She finishes her drink, pours another, starts on it with the bottle left so Korrin can start pouring for herself as she sees fit. "What red filth do you bring clinging to your ships that our shipwrights might touch? A kraken? A kraken touched by that-- corruption?"

A prayer to Andraste, to the Maker, all of them follow suit with a flourish and down their drinks (her third) after that news; the woman with the braids pushes her cup away in surrender.

Eventually they take their chance.

The captain's been drinking Andraste's Mercy with that horned one, an eye on the other two a half-level below her preferred drinking spot where the card game with the tattooed elf and feathered mage looking fellow is making folk laugh are. There aren't just as many ways to go about past everyone else to get where they want to go, practice though they might be.

This is Llomerryn, there are two kinds of red available all day and night on demand.

So past Teren and Araceli do they go, face kept from as much of the room as they can which by necessity means facing more of that corner - damn that woman for taking it - as they move. A thief's gait, a don't look at me gait, nothing to draw the eye or to lure it away, just careful steady progress and shifting with the shadows as needed. Araceli looks to Teren with a very soft dame paciencia under her breath. Can they not have shady drinks in a corner? For one night? Is that too much to ask?

Fenris pauses in looking over his newest cards to give Anders an 'really? type of expression. But its effectiveness is the part that matters, and the pirates are laughing. So that's a good sign. Maybe Anders has one use. One alone. For the sake of the mission he's trying to make himself believe in this idea. So he sighs and shakes his head, returning his eyes to the cards.

"I'll see that bet... and raise it." That serpent he just drew looks mighty good in his hand at the moment.

That leads the next player to toss his cards down in a huff. "I fold."

The next one after that meets the bet, and that ends the round. "Let's see 'em, then." One of the remaining players, one who's been eagerly upping the ante himself is definitely holding good cards... which are revealed soon enough.

Fenris almost looks disappointed at first. "All I have are..." He pauses, but then the barest hint of a smirk finds its way to his face for just a moment. Ah, Varric, he'd taught him so well. A shame he's not here to witness this. "These." There's astonishment all around as the elf takes that round.

Korrin does her best to keep at least passingly aware of where everyone else is and what they're up to, but her main focus naturally has to be the captain...and the drink. She pours herself a more generous amount for a refill as well, showing herself willing to keep up. What kind of challenge would she be if she skimped on that?

So she takes a hefty swig...wow, that's strong. How long can she keep this up? Korrin isn't sure, but stubbornness and experience will have her in play for a bit longer. "Yeah, actually. We took pieces of those creatures we could defeat, for study and for evidence. You want to see just what that red shit has done to them, we can definitely provide...though touching it without some sort of protection is a bad idea. When I say the stuff fucks you up, I mean it. Even darkspawn taint isn't as bad a way to go, by comparison."

Here in the Maker's Mark, it's a mix of candles, lamps enchanted and not, and sweat is beading on Gloriana's brow. Andraste's Mercy is to be drawn out after all - didn't she wait for it, didn't she burn on her pyre before the archon thrust his blade through her? - not slammed back like rotgut you could scrub the decks with. Damn but she's a robust one.

"Not one of us wants any of what you've scraped off left in these harbours. Think the City of Chains is busy? Try the docks here when we're all back from raiding, ships heavy with plunder." Her eyes are bright, brighter from the drink rushing through her now but it doesn't have her relaxing, no, if anything it makes her tap her fingers against the tankard. Strange how even loud as the tavern is, the sound of her rings striking metal isn't swallowed up. "This red...what would it do to a man?"

For those watching, there's some muttered cursing as the ones who had money on other players end up tossing coin over for those betting on Fenris. What better way to regain yourself after some heavy drinking than to come mingle; why else would the crowd part so easily but for Gloriana Valdez, coming to see what the commotion is about between those betting at the table and those betting on the table.

"Ah, someone who knows Diamondback and not just Wicked Grace - put me down for my usual bet," she calls out to whoever's recording it, a low excited murmur passing through the crowd before she leans by the table long enough to speak in Fenris' ear. "Don't make me regret it, I do so hate to waste my hard-earned coin on a man."

With that, she moves back to watch, ends up nearer to Anders where she touches one of the feathers with a sharp grin. "Did you kill any crows for that?"

He grins back. They're so very close to Antiva which means she might mean more than just birds, and he doesn't know her take on the Crows, new or old. It's best to play it safe when they need an ally.

"I'd tell you the whole story but I doubt you'd beaklieve me." The last joke had gone over well. He'd even gotten a groan from Araceli, something he considered to be a great win. If he can actually help with wordplay this might be one of the best days of his life. Or at least one of the most fun ones. "I'm a very talonted man."

His eyes go back to the table as he tries to follow where all the coins are going. Some to Fenris, some being paid out on the side. Bets on Fenris? Bets on something else? She's a pirate, and Isabela always had a dozen things going at once. He leans forward on the back of an empty chair, returning his gaze and smile to her. His heart is taken. That doesn't mean he's forgotten how to smile at someone attractive.

The man at the head of the table is dealing again, and Anders wonders if he should be trying to distract her so Fenris has a better chance of winning or not. Maybe not. She'd probably figure it out. But he will provide commentary and jokes; it could get them what they want.

Korrin is grateful that the lighting and her darker complexion means her increasingly flushed cheeks aren't easily detectable, though increased consumption will make itself known in other ways as they continue.

"The red eats them from the inside, more or less. The Red Templars have called it 'growing a crystal garden', and that's what happens. The red lyrium fuses to the subject's bones, overgrows their lungs, spreads like a fungus to the brain, and grows into their flesh. Eventually they become the stuff, but even before there are signs. Their eyes glow red, as do their veins, even as their skin become sickly pale. They emit this reddish haze, and their voices have this distorted, dual tone to them. Mentally, they become violent and paranoid, above and beyond what's normal for them. They begin to hear a "song", which makes them try to force others to hear it. And all the while, they're in agony.

That's the fate of anyone who ingests the stuff, but even those who don't will eventually lose their marbles. Ser Meredith of Kirkwall is a prime example of that." She reaches to pour herself some more, this time more interested in keeping pace rather than showing off for the hell of it.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 3

Chance is the only game I play with, baby

no subject

no subject

no subject

skipping teren for now with cami's permission!

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Teren is both alive and dead, you heard it here first

Schrodinger's Teren

drinking contest;

cards and puns;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

nab the thief;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject