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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.
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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"Most do not ask, to be honest. They hear my name and Crows and tend to put one and two together. My desertion is well known as it is tied to a larger story."
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If most people don't actually ask, then Zevran's reputation must be even more formidable than he's thought - and for a few seconds his expression doesn't change one whit. Even if he was aware of how pleased Zevran is by the whole thing, that wouldn't change - because the whole thing really is impressive.
That look on his face does wind up shifting slightly after a few moments, however, simply because that mention of a larger story gives him the idea that...well, there's a larger story there. Which is fairly obvious, all things considered, but doesn't change his curiosity when it comes to wanting to know what happened.
"Ah...don't suppose you'd care to fill me in on what that story is? I'll admit I'm a wee bit curious to find out what that sort of thing might be."
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He pauses to sip his drink, drumming his hand on his leg for a moment. "They are warriors and mages without equal, they only take the very best of what they find. It is to be an honor to be a Warden. Their sacrifice is what ends blights. Now there were no many in Ferelden as before the fifth blight? They were not certain this Darkspawn activity actually was a blight as there had not been one in well over a century. Hard to keep such things in perspective when time rolls on, yes? So there is a battle. The army is split in two. Half with the Grey Wardens and the King of Ferelden, half with his lord councilor Tyern Loghain waiting to flank the oncoming army upon a signal. The signal was shot- the rest of the army? Did not come. They retreated, seeing no reason to lose the whole of heir army. As such all of the Ferelden Gray Wardens perished in the slaughter- save two. Jonas Cousland and Alistair. They were spared but sought aid in rallying against this blight and Tyern Loghain wished them dead. Or was convinced to wish them dead- it was a difficult time for all, back then."
Now he gestures to himself with a smile. "Enter the Antivan Crow. Contracts on the Grey Wardens are normally not taken, it is impolitic to kill them as they are vital to the larger scheme of things. But I was in the area and thought it would be good money. I take the contract, I am sent to kill them- I fail." Here Zevran crackles a low laugh. "I fail miserably. But they show me mercy as failure in the Crows? Means death. I could wait and die or I could join them on their quest to save Ferelden."
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And it is. He listens with wide-eyed interest, occasionally bringing his tankard to his mouth to absently take a sip, the ale almost completely forgotten as the Zevran spins his tale. Only once it appears that there's going to be a pause long enough does he pipe up again, taking the chance to interject with a quick question.
"So you'd not succeeded in killing them, but they'd know you'd tried, surely. The Grey Wardens were still willing to let you join them, even after all that?"
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