faderift | [Open] Another pirate arrives at Skyhold

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[Open] Another pirate arrives at Skyhold

WHO: Balthier and OPEN
WHAT: Balthier poking around Skyhold
WHEN: End of Drakonis
WHERE: Around Skyhold, mostly the merchant stalls and the tavern.
NOTES: No warnings, fine with brackets or prose

Tavern
What little coin he did have on hand he needed to keep. In his business, you needed money to make money. But tonight the raucous conversations, laughter and music from the tavern had been a siren song he couldn't resist. Or perhaps he could blame the pretty barmaid who'd practically forced a bottle of wine on him. Oddly enough she'd disappeared after he'd given her the coin for his drink.

As tempting as getting drunk and wallowing a bit over his current situation was, he kept a keen eye open for card games or even the opportunity for a bit of conversation with someone interesting. One never knew when a simple conversation would turn into something more lucrative.

An empty seat catches his eye, wine bottle in hand, he saunters over, offering the stranger a smile, "Is this seat taken?"

Merchant Stalls
Balthier wasn't buying, or selling anything. Not yet. Wandering through the stalls, he was idly perusing the goods, taking stock of the kinds of things available. Although not ideal, the collection of merchant stalls was a decent place to look for business, to keep an ear out for anyone not finding what they're looking for.

Letting himself get a little too distracted by a particularly shiny necklace, which seems to be catching the midday sun just right, he nearly bumps into another passerby. "My apologies. I should be watching where I'm going."

[Wild card, anywhere else around or just outside Skyhold]

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Ellana looks up from a small booklet of songs for the lute to see that she is most likely in the man's way, and she takes a step closer to the stall to be out of his footpath.

"Oh, it's all right. I wasn't really paying attention either. No harm done."

He gives her a gracious nod, nearly a bow, and maneuvers around her without actually walking away.

"They seem to have just about anything a person might need around here," He comments conversationally, pretending to eye a wicked looking dagger.

"They do," she agrees. "Things I wouldn't have thought of, really. A lot of decoration." There are miniature decorative spinning wheels sitting out front and center on the table, and little figurines of religious figures next to them. Ellana assumes Andrastians hold them while praying or something. And though this stall doesn't have any, another has little carved halla made of wood or glass. If she didn't already have one carved for her by her clan mate, she would have bought one. From her metal necklace with a halla horn design in the center and the ring on her finger with tiny halla carved into it, it's easy to tell she loves them.

Her gaze shifts to the dagger, but she really can't tell a good one from a bad one, being that she's a mage and has never needed a dagger for fighting.

"Certainly a mix of items."

Like most of the people he's chatted with, his fishing gets him nowhere. Perhaps out in the open like this isn't the best place to hope for people to confess they're on hunt for something more illicit, especially not to a stranger, but he has to start somewhere.

"Mmhmm. A lot more trinkets than one would expect in an encampment filled with temporary inhabitants," He observes, turning his attention from the dagger back to her, "I hadn't expected to find much more than armor, weapons and basic supplies."

In Ellana's case, the object of her hunt is right there in her hands. She's here looking for lute music, and she's found some. Unfortunately for him, she's not part of some illicit Carta ring and is rather boring as a result.

"It is a little strange, but I think it's because many of the refugees have lost everything. These things can give them a sense of home again."

"Well, well, well. There he is."

After a bit of chit chat on the sending crystal, it wasn't hard to determine who he was speaking with. The accent is definitely improved, and considering how Twisted Fate has practiced his own he knows how difficult that can be.

Twisted Fate peers up from under his hat and grins. "Help yourself. It's been too long, Balthier. Though I must say, I'm surprised to see you here."

He thought he'd recognized that hat, it's only now that it's paired with a face and a voice that all the pieces click into place.

"The feeling's mutual. I hadn't expected to run into any familiar faces around here," He slides into the seat, taking care to set his bottle of wine down as he does, "How long has it been? A year... two?"

He takes a moment to get a little more settled and pour himself a glass of wine to work on. "So, what's found you this far South, aside from helping to save all of Thedas, of course."

The elf chuckles faintly. "Roughly about there, I'd say."

Twisted Fate leans back in his chair, absently tracing the top of his tankard. "I should be asking you that. I never thought you'd be so far without that ship of yours. But me, well, previous business ended a bit poorly. Figured I'd be better off in the hands of the Inquisition."

That's more or less the truth.

"Lo and behold, here I am, playing hero. It's quaint, really."

"Well, it wasn't exactly part of the plan," The briefest flicker of regret and sadness cross his face, but he's quick to push the thoughts of his ship, and more importantly his crew... his life, out of his head, quickly coming up with a more convenient reason to be here, "These -I guess, they're calling them rifts- are affecting everyone. They're impossible to ignore. Even off the coast of Rivain."

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he takes a sip of wine, surprised that it isn't completely horrible, "And I was hoping there might be some coin to be earned."

Well, it certainly seems he's missing something. Curious as Twisted Fate is, he isn't going to be digging into questions just yet regarding that. It does strike him as suspicious that Balthier isn't on his ship, but something clearly has had to have happened.

In due time, maybe.

"That they are, I'm afraid. Let's not forget the red lyrium and the rampaging Templars and the groups of Venatori around. Not a fan of it myself."

Twisted Fate laughs softly. "I assure you, there's always an opportunity. Though it doesn't run as well as I'd like, but your purse won't be empty. Hopefully things will be back to normal soon so we can get back to our lives, hm?"

There's an unfortunate reason why the seats next to Anders are empty, and it's entirely Anders. He's nursing his one drink of the night with care, off to the side, and the question gets a surprised look before he's nodding and gesturing. Someone who doesn't look angry is a nice break.

"I'll allow it." He gives the newcomer a small smile, gesturing. "Are you new?"

It's a pretty safe assumption, really, considering the guy's come over to sit next to him.

That Balthier is new is a reasonable assumption to make, though he tends to fall on the side of turning a blind eye to past transgressions in the name of opportunity and necessity.

"I'd say so," Balthier confirms his suspicions with a nod as he eases into the chair beside him. He might be new, but it was impossible not to take notice of the constant stolen glances in the blonde man's direction. He's starting to second guess this decision.

"You seem to be causing quite the stir," He observes quietly, busying himself with pouring a glass of wine. "I'm almost jealous."

"It's the hair. Grow yours out a little longer and everyone will give you looks too." There's no seriousness in his voice as he sips his drink. A moment later he's reached the decision that he should probably help the newcomer out.

"I took some actions a few years back that were... extreme. The common opinion is that I should have died for them, and that didn't happen. Instead, I was shown mercy and given the chance to atone through helping others." Anders shrugs, trying to make it look like he's entirely unbothered. "Sharing a drink with me is not the popular option. If you... If you choose to move, I'll not hold it against you."

Almost self consciously, Balthier reaches up to run his fingers through his hair before giving the mage a roguish smirk and shaking his head.

"Mm, no, I think not. Besides, it suits you, I'm not sure I could say the same," He flirts, equally as light-heartedly.

Seemingly unconcerned over Ander's admission, he takes a casual sip of his wine. In reality, the wheels in his head are spinning. Of course, he's dying to hear what the man's done and even more curious as to why, if so many people believed he should have been executed, that he wasn't already buried in a shallow grave.

"I'm sure I've shared a drink with better men... and worse. And I'm sure you could say the same. I think I'll stay put, if it's all the same to you," He says with a confident smile.

Kain is focused on a stall nearby which has quite the array of dragon-themed trinkets. He's looking over a statuette closely, trying to figure out if it resembles the high dragon they'd fought... it's a very fine resemblance, he has to admit.

"Huh-" He looks up, and over toward the other man who'd sort-of-almost bumped into him.

"It's fine... I didn't realize you were there." He sets the statuette down. It's much too impractical an item, he decides. "I probably shouldn't be wasting my coin anyway."

He tilts his head slightly, peering at the small dragon carving with a discerning eye. Trinkets were probably an impractical thing to consider purchasing while your most permanent living arrangements consisted of a bed roll and a backpack, but what was life without knick knacks?

"I can think of worst things to waste your coin on," He says with a shrug, "At least it looks like a dragon... it is supposed to be a dragon, isn't it?"

"Truly, there may in face be more frivolous items out there... it just happened to catch my eye."

Kain narrows his eyes to critically look at the object. It's a pretty good resemblance, and the colors is nice and eye-catching, but perhaps they might have done a better job with the spines along the back.

"Apparently... though it's hard to tell what species of dragon they're going for." He glances over at the other man. "There's certainly a lot to look at here."

"Hmm," Balthier narrows his eyes to better examine the little dragon. "Or you could save your coin and get something that came off a real dragon... a scale, a tooth, a claw."

He shifts his weight, turning his attention from the statue to the man beside him, "Have you fought many dragons?" The stranger certainly had a look about him like he might be capable of doing such a thing.

Balthier had done a lot of stupid things in his years, but fighting a dragon hadn't made it onto that list yet. Honestly, he was more than content to keep it that way.

That earns something of a pleased look from Kain. Already been there and done that. The figurine forgotten, he glances over to Balthier and reaches for the dragon scale he's taken to carrying with him. He holds it up.

"I fought plenty of dragons back home... as a dragoon, they're my specialty. Though this scale comes from the high dragon I fought here, alongside a small group of warriors... I kept a claw as well." He smirks a little bit. "I suppose in that regard, I've already gotten all the dragon artifacts that I need. Though if I had another chance to face another, I'd definitely take it."

The challenge they pose is unreal, and being a dragoon, it's fully in his nature.

Or rather, Balthier nearly bumps into Korrin's chest, given the height disparity. The Vashoth woman crosses her arms, looking amused rather than irritated. She temporarily forgets her own search in light of seeing a familiar face, and one who's company she enjoyed earlier.

"Tsk, you really should. Hello again, Balthier."

"I should, but if I did that, I might risk not running into you," He says with a roguish smirk.

"Looking for anything in particular?" He asks out of idle curiosity, half browsing the array of objects in the stall beside them with disinterest.

"A token of affection for my girlfriend. She has an affinity for the sea, so that kind of imagery is a bonus...but not strictly necessary." If something's eye-catching enough, she'll consider it anyway. Just because Araceli deserves nice things. "Maybe a nice collar for her fox, too. He's already a spoiled little prince, might as well look the part."

"Ahh, very romantic," Balthier gives her a sly grin with the compliment, though the revelation wasn't about to deter his playful flirting. Not in the least bit. "I saw a few bottled ships at one of the stalls back that way, but I'm not so sure that's really what you're looking for. None of those large shells around here that you can hear the ocean in sadly."

Flirting is just flirting; Korrin's not offended by its presence, taken or not. She echoes the grin, then glances where Balthier indicates, thoughtful. "A bottled ship might be just the thing to cheer her up, actually. It's been tense in Skyhold lately, even more so than usual, and as a rifter she's more or less in the middle of it. A reminder of where she's from could be just the thing to make her smile."

So far, Kirk had found he felt most at home in the tavern of Skyhold. It was warm, full of people with murmured conversation and raucous laughter. It felt like something he would find on Earth. The beer left something to be desired, but beggars couldn't be choosers and he was betting the beer was safer to drink than the water. He wanted to live, after all, and there wasn't a good reason to see how well his immune system worked against foreign pathogens.

He looks up when he hears someone speak to him, used to being somewhat left alone, especially when he came in wearing his uniform. Still, the man was good looking and some company would be nice, so he kicks out the seat in question and flashes him an answering smile in return.

"Now it is."

Balthier gives the man's odd clothing an openly curious once over as he slips into the seat beside him and sets down the wine and glass he'd brought with him.

"Forgive me, but are you one those -what are they calling you?- rifters? What I mean to ask is you're not from Thedas, are you?" And if the man was, he'd feel nice and embarrassed about the whole thing. He'd heard talk that there were people here who were from some other world somehow, but Kirk was the first he'd run into who actually looked it. Honestly, it was fascinating.

Kirk had become used to the question, and he knew he stood out like a sore thumb in his uniform. He'd managed to secure a couple other shirts to wear along with his pants, but he tended to use those during his day labors rather than when he wanted to be comfortable at night.

"Hmm, you'd be right - a Rifter, originally from the land of Iowa, but more recently from San Francisco," he nodded to him, because arguing the fact wouldn't win him any more points than just admitting to it outright. He'd gotten the idea that opinions were split on his kind, so might as well see how he felt about it right up front. The fact he was sitting down he thought was a good sign at least.

"Captain Jim Kirk," he introduced himself, holding out his hand to the other man.

There isn't anything in particular that he is looking for, but at the time Sam's attention is focused on a few rings and trinkets. There is a design on one that has him picking one up, but before he can really get into it he feels someone brush against his back, followed by an apology.

Setting the trinket back down Sam raises a brow and turns around. "No harm done, it happens. You alright?"

"Not my fault." It isn't, for the record, his fault this time. It's the damn dog's. Not often that the mabari wanders about and tries to make off with pouches or boots or gloves or bits of shine instead of foodstuffs. Or in this case has attempted to make off with a pouch still attached to a man's belt. Jayne's still got his damn mouth on the thing while he looks piteously over at Malcolm where he's leaning against the haft of his spear. "Don't look at me, dog. You done this to yourself."

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[Open] Another pirate arrives at Skyhold

merchant stalls

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Tavern

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Tavern - some night after Drakonis 25

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Merchant Stalls

Wild Card, courtyard.