faderift | [ OPEN ] One time love, take care how you use it

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[ OPEN ] One time love, take care how you use it

WHO: Zevran Arainai, Isabela, their audience
WHAT: Zevran and Company heat up a cold night with some steamy songs from up North.
WHEN: Current
WHERE: Tavern
NOTES: Bawdy songs, salacious dancing, coin being tossed- adult language and content.

It was cold, they were bored and a little tipsy, and Zevran had run through as many stories of the fifth blight that he could stand for the night, Isabela had run through as many suckers as she could get in her game of cards as would be lured in by her laugh and her bosom. Comfortably buzzed and not wishing to become maudlin Zevran began to pick out the notes to a rather saucy Antivan song- one he recited recently for Alistair. By the time he'd gone through the first verse with just the Lute Isabela was chortling. "You wouldn't actually-"

"Oh, mia Bella, I would. I truly would." Never one to step down from such a challenge, his plucking went from idle to strong with purpose, which only had Isabela throwing her head back and cackling.

Giggling, in her own way, warm and rich and turning a few heads. The atmosphere wasn't dire or dour but it could use a little spice. A little heat. Whether it was the sudden sharp strum that brought him back to the beginning or Isabela elbowing him in the ribs to actually start singing that got more heads, he couldn't say. by the time he hit the refrain and had nudged her enough to get her standing on the table, writhing along with the music? They certainly had the attention of most if not all of the tavern. When he hit the second call and response- half the women in attendance replied, egged on by Isabela on the table still- leaping onto another in time with the music.

As he had quite a few such pieces in his repertoire, they had all night to fill with song and dance and bawdy intent.

[ ooc: tag around and have a party, everyone's game! ]

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Zevran has others to charm, coin to collect- but the promise of a drink and a little longer spent in Garris' fine company is reason enough to linger. He idly strums, smiling at those that wander by until his companion returns. "After a fashion."

He is many things and has many talents. "Tonight? I am a bard. Tomorrow? I may also be a bard. It depends on what is needed of me."

Ah. "So a bard that isn't really a bard. Sneaky." A 'jack of all trades' kind of character then? "Well you didn't come here just to be playing tunes in a tavern. What brought you here to the Inquisition?"

"I have gone around the country doing the 'saving the world and solving problems' business once before- I thought perhaps the Inquisition would do well to have my input on such things." Kirkwall had been Kirkwall; he'd been there but had other things to worry about. This? This has his attention.

"Saving the world seems to be becoming a hobby of yours then. When was the first time?" He'd seen some stuff himself, but this would be the first time he'd consider that he was doing anything related to saving the world.

"The Fifth Blight in Fereldan." At this point he's not terribly bothered by anyone knowing or not knowing that detail. There are more important things at hand- like drink, coin, and life.

That- was a pretty big deal, the Fifth Blight. Course the only thing the Free Marches had seen of it was all the refugees. Along with it all the good and bad that a certain Ferelden had brought along.

"Well shit. I should buy you two drinks then."

"I will not say no!" He crackles a laugh. "Ah, it was a long time ago; but living through that seems reason enough to throw myself into the fray once more, wouldn't you think?"

"A decade ago," he says in agreement. Had that much time already passed? "That seems reasonable enough. Live through one great catastrophe, throw yourself at another. I suppose my reasoning isn't so different from yours. Course a distinct lack of rampaging Qunari would be nice. Mages and Templars not throttling each other in the courtyard is a pretty good bonus too."

"Ah, so you were in Kirkwall, I take it?" Qunari, mages and templars- with that accent? Definitely a Marcher, definitely from Kirkwall. "I spent some time there myself before everything became thoroughly horrible; but not enough to truly learn the city."

"Yeah, I was," he confirms with a small snort then a shrug of his shoulder before taking a sip of his drink. "I'd say you were lucky to have gotten out before everything went to Blight, but you already seen quite a lot of shit it sounds like; an actual Blight, too. So you were in Kirkwall? Guess we missed each other."

"For a short time, mostly I kept to Lowtown in order to avoid the Crows. Not that it worked all that well, but, it was a worthy attempt." He plucks through a few idle tunes, something sustained and sinister. "But I found my way back out again soon enough and back home."

Crows. Captain Aveline had mentioned something about that back then, but it was only recently he had heard more about that particular group. To be someone who was wanted by the Crows and able to elude them... he certainly did not want to get into any kind of tangle with Zevran.

"Lowtown. So you were in the Champion's neck of the woods, so to speak."

"The Champion is, in fact, who helped me with my small issue with the Crows." Ah, what a remarkable woman. "She and her friends were quite formidable and did not care to be tricked into turning me over."

That would have explained one of the many ties the Captain went into a torrent of sighs. "Not surprised in the least. She had a habit of doing things like that. A lot. A lot of influence she was."

"Still no word of her?" He knew the common assumption but- there was ever a part of him that held onto hope, if only for the sake of Hawke's companions. It is no easy thing to lose someone like that.

Taking a deep breath in then letting it out slowly, Garris shakes his head. "Oh there are a lot of words going around, just nothing solid to go off of." It wouldn't surprise him in the least if Hawke was alive out there somewhere, but at the same time he wasn't going to hold his breath.

"Mmm." What little he had heard hadn't been hopeful. With the world as it was, Hawke might have stepped forward to reclaim her dwarf if nothing else. The question of how it was she died was more worrysome than whether or not she yet lived. "What brings you to the Inquisition?"

What brought him to the Inquisition. Garris smiles a bit at the question, taking another drink of his ale before looking at Zevran again. "Not too different from your own reasons. Didn't save the world or anything as fancy as you though. Everyone wants to point fingers and not do anything themselves, and despite all the shit the Inquisition is getting they're still the only group that seems to be effectively doing anything. Politics ain't easy, but they shouldn't get in the way of saving people or even the world. Figured it was a worthwhile organization to lend some of my skills to."

"Also the pay is good." Noble intentions are all well and fine, but very few people he'd believe to do such things purely out of nobility. Alistair perhaps- but everyone has their motivations. Offering a noble one at first blush- it isn't dishonest. But it is a cover more often than not. "Still, that is terribly noble of you."

Taking another drink then lowering his mug slowly, Garris raises a brow at Zevran's words. "No ones paid for me to come or be here, and I do believe meals and a place to sleep are offered to anyone who's staying with the Inquisition." Course if anyone was interested in paying him to do a job, or hire him out that didn't interfere with the Inquisition he wouldn't be against it.

"I was under the impression they paid for work done with the Inquisition. It is not much- what with the state of things, but it is a fair wage." Perhaps not everyone is being paid- or not everyone knows to ask for payment.

"Oh, they do, but I hadn't come here necessarily expecting it. It'll be nice though, having something steady for a change. I'm going to need it with how often I'll be drinking here and probably throwing coin at you for the lovely entertainment." He chuckles lightly, taking a sip of his drink.

"We will be here often- most performances are not quite so spirited but I think we may make a point to do this more often...ah, Isabela, she beckons. I shall leave you to your drink, my friend. Enjoy the rest of the show!" Zevran dips a short bow and weaves his way back to the tables, striking up yet another tune.

Isabela. Now he's sure he's heard and seen the woman from somewhere before now; it's at the tip of his tongue.

"I shall." Raising his mug in farewell, Garris sits back to enjoy the rest of the show, making sure to send another drink Zevran's way at some point.

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[ OPEN ] One time love, take care how you use it

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