WHO: Fitcher, Marcoulf, Bartimaeus (+) & YOU WHAT: Ye Olde Catch'all WHEN: Nowish WHERE: Kirkwall, The Gallows, le Misc. NOTES: Starters in comments; if you want something/someone who isn't here, just hit me up and I'll scrape something together.
"So I'm unscathed, but you've hit a snag in your business. Seems a sorry state of affairs to me, regardless."
Unprompted, he takes the seat across the table from her. He doesn't look at her papers. Instead, he leans over to pluck at one of the cards and flip it over in his fingers.
"As it just so happens, yes." After one or two pulls on the pipe, she adds: "I cannot swear the games are good or that the drink isn't sour, but the company is almost always reliably entertaining."
"Ah, now there is a sentiment I can sympathize with. In fact I believe that I expressed something similar to Messr, Rutyer before I started the game up. There is nothing quite like prolonged solitude meeting a crowded place to inspire melancholy in the unfamiliar, hm? One needs friends in places where they ought to have them."
With one hand, she removes the pipe from between her teeth; the other she extends across the table to him. "Fitcher."
"I've acquired more than if I'd have stayed shut up in my rooms," she says, not laughing but with the impression of good humor regardless. "And I believe there is something to be said for a sense of structure. Even reprobates such as ourselves like a day where we know 'If nothing else, there will be cards to play in the evening tonight.' I rather enjoy the semblance of routine."
Same food, same wine, same stakes, same deck of cards (the wear on the backs of which she has largely memorized, but that's beside the point).
"Aye, it makes sense. This isn't like any outfit I've been a part of, but people far from home working to end a war likely feel the same fatigue as Grey Wardens, or any other soldiers."
Ellis' opinions on how Riftwatch members comport themselves notwithstanding, he recognizes certain types of stress. Fitcher's providing a useful service in allowing people a way to alleviate that.
"Here? Oh, a few months only. I arrived soon after the split from the Inquisition proper. I'd meant to join that, not Riftwatch, but--" A soft tip of the head as if to say, What can be done? Circumstance is a funny thing.
"Anyway," she continues. "I suppose at the end of the day that one is very like the other. And Riftwatch doesn't make me sleep in a tent. I hear they're rather big on that sort of thing at Skyhold."
"The goal's the same," Ellis agrees. "And there's nothing keeping us from moving on."
Which Ellis is counting on, just in case.
"Assuming we ever find a reason to move on, to Skyhold or otherwise."
As long as Riftwatch is doing what it's meant to do, there's no reason to leave. Ellis had come here to be of use, until he could go back to doing what he'd devoted his life to. He assumes it's much the same for her.
"Then it seems we're of a similar mind, Messr," she says, teeth clicking on the pipe's stem. The smell of the burning tobacco is rather pleasant as far as smoke goes - something sweet lingering in the tang as she exhales.
"Would it be inconsiderate to ask what brings you to our fine company? And don't say 'the war.' Such an answer may have worked four years ago but it holds rather less water today, doesn't it? It's not as if you're Orlesian."
"Fereldan," He tells her. "But I don't think I have much of an answer for you."
He's hardly made up his own mind to stay just yet. But he does consider, leaning his elbows on the table, careful of her papers when he folds his hands.
"There are Wardens here. I wanted to see what aid they were providing, and whether or not it was a service I could lend myself to."
And if he'd be tolerated. Jury's still out on that, though Riftwatch at large seemed content to utilize him.
There's a lot in that tobacco tinged sound - something in her brightening even as her focus narrows on him through the veil of pipe smoke. How very fascinating.
"And how have you found the work thus far, Warden?"
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Unprompted, he takes the seat across the table from her. He doesn't look at her papers. Instead, he leans over to pluck at one of the cards and flip it over in his fingers.
"I hear you hold regular nights for gaming?"
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A page is turned.
"Are you much of a gambler, Messr?"
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Being in civilization again is weird.
"I'd put in a bit to take in the company. Who am I to pass up reliable entertainment?"
He's here now. Acclimating to being around people, to being part of an organization again, he'll need to do that one way or another.
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With one hand, she removes the pipe from between her teeth; the other she extends across the table to him. "Fitcher."
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"And a company like this ought to be made up of friends," he agrees, before chuckling. "Or at least people familiar enough to work together well."
Even having spent just over a month in the Gallows, Ellis has already realized this isn't any kind of force he's used to being a part of.
"Has it worked for you? Have you acquired friends in the places you'd hoped?"
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Same food, same wine, same stakes, same deck of cards (the wear on the backs of which she has largely memorized, but that's beside the point).
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Ellis' opinions on how Riftwatch members comport themselves notwithstanding, he recognizes certain types of stress. Fitcher's providing a useful service in allowing people a way to alleviate that.
"How long have you been operating here?"
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"Anyway," she continues. "I suppose at the end of the day that one is very like the other. And Riftwatch doesn't make me sleep in a tent. I hear they're rather big on that sort of thing at Skyhold."
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Which Ellis is counting on, just in case.
"Assuming we ever find a reason to move on, to Skyhold or otherwise."
As long as Riftwatch is doing what it's meant to do, there's no reason to leave. Ellis had come here to be of use, until he could go back to doing what he'd devoted his life to. He assumes it's much the same for her.
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"Would it be inconsiderate to ask what brings you to our fine company? And don't say 'the war.' Such an answer may have worked four years ago but it holds rather less water today, doesn't it? It's not as if you're Orlesian."
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He's hardly made up his own mind to stay just yet. But he does consider, leaning his elbows on the table, careful of her papers when he folds his hands.
"There are Wardens here. I wanted to see what aid they were providing, and whether or not it was a service I could lend myself to."
And if he'd be tolerated. Jury's still out on that, though Riftwatch at large seemed content to utilize him.
no subject
There's a lot in that tobacco tinged sound - something in her brightening even as her focus narrows on him through the veil of pipe smoke. How very fascinating.
"And how have you found the work thus far, Warden?"