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.
"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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no subject
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?"