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.
"No. I'm simply familiar with the work there-- with the horses anyway." The more exotic mounts (and that awful mummified thing lurking in the dark) fall beyond the realm of his expertise. "The mare will be fine."
And if she isn't, if there is some change in her temper between now and the morning, there is a boy sleeping in front of her stall with strict instructions to resume walking her. What else can be done? To ask Andraste that she look after the well being of a sweet horse with a gassy belly? What a silly thing to request. These things are at least in part a matter of luck.
"Yes we've quite the variety - dracolisks! I've been meaning to make more of a study of them and I did hear stories about nuggalopes at one point so being able to see any up close would be a boon for selfish reasons. Scholarly but ultimately selfish." Mostly so he can tell certain lecturers to go suck an egg if they haven't died in the interim since, you know, war and being old and the hazards of the field or the library or a slice of toast.
Also dead horse. Or possibly dead horse. Mortalitasi relatives prepare you for too many things when your mother is reminding you to ask corpse grandma how she likes her tea when you're six and still new to all of it.
But with a sigh that borders on ashamed Tavin answers. "Adalberto. Very tall black horse, too much mane but if I cut it then that would somehow summon my sister who loves to braid it. He...kicks. And screams. Mostly when I ask him to do anything that might hinder him standing and trying to inhale food." He is a Bastard Horse (TM).
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And if she isn't, if there is some change in her temper between now and the morning, there is a boy sleeping in front of her stall with strict instructions to resume walking her. What else can be done? To ask Andraste that she look after the well being of a sweet horse with a gassy belly? What a silly thing to request. These things are at least in part a matter of luck.
(He did it anyway. But the point stands.)
"Which horse is yours?"
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Also dead horse. Or possibly dead horse. Mortalitasi relatives prepare you for too many things when your mother is reminding you to ask corpse grandma how she likes her tea when you're six and still new to all of it.
But with a sigh that borders on ashamed Tavin answers. "Adalberto. Very tall black horse, too much mane but if I cut it then that would somehow summon my sister who loves to braid it. He...kicks. And screams. Mostly when I ask him to do anything that might hinder him standing and trying to inhale food." He is a Bastard Horse (TM).
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Get it? Because the horrible animal is big and black and likely to take someone's head off.