The Inquisition Reborn [llama]

[Benzo]

Nodding and leading you inside before then finding an empty table, Varric seated himself as a tavern-hand came by the table. "Get me a mu- Actually, bottle. Grab me a Dwarven Rock-Stout if you would. And is that nug stew I smell? A bowl of that." he says, handing the Elf a handful of golden coins before casting his eyes towards you curiously. "Got a preference, Azalin?"

Looking over at you, she studies you curiously before a look of sudden shock crossed the Elf's face. "It's an honor, Herald!"

(Jfc this RP got me targeted by Dragon Age ads, lmfao. I've gotten this DA RP site ad three times in a row now.)

[llama]

"Yeah, a quality beer should be fine.. stew would be good too." I really don't know the specific names of the different breweries and various styles of ales or whatever due to my past, but it seems like you couldn't go wrong with the aforementioned request.
I allow a cheeky smile to pass to the elf, putting on some charm, "And a pleasure for me to meet you, Miss..?"

(you cannot escape the grasp of personalized ads)

[Benzo]

(Haha, so it would seem. I'm actually rather impressed that it popped up without any direct 'Dragon Age' phrase anywhere until now.)

"Elifain, M'Lord." she introduces with a curtsy before then scurrying off behind the counter. Returning shortly later with two unnaturally chilled bottles, she de-corks them before setting down two wooden flagons.

"Renard, that is, the chef just started another batch of the stew out back; First bowl will be set upon your table as soon as it warms, M'Lords."

Leaving you two, Varric grabs one of the bottles and offers you a celebratory cheers before taking a sip. Pausing for a moment with the bottle in hand, he looks at you curiously.

"So tell me; How're you holding up?" he inquires. "I mean, you went from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the army of the faithful as their poster-child..." he goes on, pausing with a snicker before adding "Most people would have spread that out over more than a few days."

[llama]

"Hm. A pretty name to a pretty face." I say with a wink as she goes off to get the drinks. Once they arrive, I down a hearty swig with a nod as an answer for the cooking food.
I then take another drink to go along with his sip, feeling somewhat awkward about the first drink.

"I guess I handled the whole criminal part fairly well, due to crime being the only thing that kept me alive for so many years.. then again, I was never caught or really ever one to commit a terrible crime." It seems the alcohol has loosened me up a bit; it's also nice to have someone to console with. "As for the fame and current status, it's something I could get used to. The whole rapid progress thing is a perk. Better to enjoy this young than in old age."

[Benzo]

Laughing warmly with another gulp following close behind, the Dwarf sat his drink aside whilst rubbing his hands together. "So the Herald isn't morally just, eh? Then again, you'd be surprised what tales the Nightingale has, and knows. Not that she'll share, but my guess is that one's already dug up plenty on you."

Taking a deep inhale through his nose, Varric smirked and looked to the side just as Elifain approached. In each hand was balanced a decently sized bowl with thick steam rolling from within, carrying upon it the earthy aroma of roasted nug and potatoes. The Elven maid sat both bowls up the table with another professional curtsy before leaving you to eat.

"Well if you plan on getting old," Varric continued as he stirred his bowl to release more of the heat, "you may want to consider running the first chance you get. I've written enough tragedies to clearly see where this is going; Heroes are everywhere, but a hole in the sky? That needs a miracle."

[llama]

"Well, I mean someone who had a home with two people trying to kill one another can't be expected to have a spotless criminal record." I shrug a bit, gulping down some of my drink, "Whatever is 'dug up' is nothing that would be unexpected from such a background."
I go ahead and eat some, not minding the heat. "It's not necessarily the want to grow old," I counter, "it's the appreciation of success at a young age. Too often one is already too corrupted and lacking of energy once they get to the status that I'm at.. as for the Rift, I believe I'm miracle enough."

[Benzo]

Barking a short laugh in response, Varric looks at your hand with a shrug. "There's no denying that after your trip from the Fade. Quite literally, I'm unable to fully comprehend what you even did, lack of dreaming and all. But I've seen Darkspawn in my travels; The fact that you aren't one is miracle on its own, I suppose."

After taking a bite of his own food, he wipes his mouth on a small piece of cloth before continuing. "I'm more worried about who, or what, cause the Breach... I don't understand magic, hard to as a Dwarf, but I imagine anything capable of doing that is also capable of wiping a small refuge town off the map."

[llama]

Grinning, I scarf down some more of the stew. In between bites, still with some food in my mouth, I jest, "Seems like I'm just miracles upon miracles, eh?"
Upon is speculation, I shrug, licking my lips in thought. "Seems like it wouldn't be in the thing's best interest? Could possibly want someone or something here, even if this is where a force is gathering to destroy it. Fickle speculation but there could be some truth in it."

[Benzo]

"Or cocky enough to not consider you... Us a threat." Varric adds with a chuckle. "Let's hope that lasts." After a long moment, the Dwarf seeming to dip into a trance as Elven singing filled the tavern accompanied by a trio of lutes playing.

"I considered running. Once the Seeker got her hands on you, I was free to." he says, breaking the pause. "But something tells me I'd still be able to see the hole all the way in Kirkwall. If you really are sent by Andraste, or just happen to be the guy we need right when we needed you, Bianca and I have got your back until the end of this."

[llama]

I decide not to answer to his first speculation, listening to the music as well. Music has always been seen as a luxury within my mind, something to be fathomed and enjoyed.
"Well, I'm sure everyone has considered desertion in this situation. I sure was while they were still treating me like a prisoner.. or a child. I do appreciate your sticking around, though. Perhaps we'll go down in the history books as great friends." I say this with a small smile, looking over to the dwarf.

[Benzo]

Chuckling with a nod, Varric offers up his mug once more for a toast. "Here's to rising from the ashes like a bloody blessed phoenix and stabilizing the Breach."

After taking a gulp, he coughs due to a bad swallow and takes a moment to catch his breath. "Harritt, the blacksmith outside; While I'm thinking of it, he mentioned working on, I don't know, something for you. Afraid my mind was a bit wrapped up calibrating Bianca. You ought to poke your head in if you find yourself over there."

[llama]

"Here, here." I say, bumping my mug against his and then taking a swig that finishes off the drink.
I laugh a bit at his misfortune, but then quiet down to listen in. Afterwards, I nod. "I'll make sure to do that." If all's done with Varric then I rise up, grant him goodbyes and thanks for the meal, stop by for a bow to Elifain, and head out the bar to Harrit.

[Benzo]

Bidding you farewell with a what may be considered rather stiff posture, if you're not used to seeing Dwarven nobility, you leave the Herald's Rest after causing the Elven maid to blush and back into the mountain air. Following the cobble-and-dirt path back to the main gate, you proceed through and see a decent amount of men and women sparring in groups before you; Were there more than when you passed them just earlier? As some were caught stealing glances at you, it seemed rather obvious that you were a most likely the cause of the rapid arrivals. Word must travel fast...

Looking to your left as you hear the unmistakable sound of bellows being pumped, you see a small collection of active forges with a grizzled, salt-and-pepper haired man rushing about barking orders. As you approached, you could see that despite whatever his age may be, life as a blacksmith made his arms the size of warhammers. Occupied, he doesn't seem to notice you, nor anyone else in the area, at that.

[llama]

I don't mind the lackluster farewell from Varric, thinking it just his personality. As for Elifain, I reckon I'll have to stop by to visit her later.
I give a few flashy grins and snazzy double points in the direction of those who look at me, enjoying the attention.
Looking around at the forge, I marvel at the sight of it. An honest work, albeit it supplies one that is built upon killing. No matter. I walk up to Harritt, looking to his arms and then to the back of his head. I do an 'ahem' akin to that of a nobleman, attempting to get his attention.

[Benzo]

Holding up a hand without looking, the blacksmith eventually turns from his task and addresses you with a nod. Opening his mouth to speak, he pauses as he studies you with a 'You seem familiar' look on his face, then snapping with recognition as he bowed.

"Ahh, you must be Master Drex; Good to finally see ya up and walking!" he greets you heartily, offering his hand our to you.

"Good of you to come by. Took the liberty of preparing armor a little more comfortable for these mountain winds, as well as replacing your rapier. It's all inside if you'd follow me."

[llama]

I return the shake with a smile, "Of course. Varric pointed me in the right direction." I nod at the 'follow me', tailing behind him to get a look at my new weapon. I was missing my old rapier; there was a good story behind it and perhaps there would be a decent story behind this one as well.

[Benzo]

"Good man, I had asked him to send my regards." Harritt replied cheerfully. "Don't quite understand that... Can I even rightfully call it a crossbow?" he then commented, looking back at you with a shrug as he reached the door and swung it open for you. "Handheld ballista seems more fitting."

Looking inside, the interior seemed rather bare if someone was actually living there. A bed, a table and grindstone, and a few dozen pieces of weaponry lying about in several stages of completion. Sitting on the table, you see a neatly folded leather bundle, a long, narrow blade resting on top.

Lighting a lantern as you entered, Harritt walked you over to the table to get a better look at the items. Looking more closely at the blade, you notice the hilt is shaped in that of what seemed to be the Maker's Eye, with the blade piercing the center. Inquisition propaganda at its finest...

Lifting up the leather heap for you, you hear an odd jingling sound as the blacksmith worked the bundle until it's function as an overcoat became apparent. "Dual-layered cured leather with fur insulation for warmth, and a thin plate of chainmail resting inside for added protection." he explained with a satisfied nod. "It'll suffice and keep you alive for now, but I can always add to it; If you find a set of pauldrons, a better hilt or pommel, or anything like that; Just bring your equipment here, and I'll swap out what I can."

[llama]

I shrug as well, not bothering to add insight on the subject.
Walking over to the blade, i inspect it with a smirk; it should suffice as a fine replacement for my earlier sword. The whole aesthetic of the Eye on it does kinda put me off, but if it's a fine piece of weaponry then I'll be able to get by.
"Yeah.. do you think this'll be too heavy for a person who has never worn armor?" I ask with uncertainty, my mind weaving through the parts of the armor and the amount of weight it could put on me during combat.

[Benzo]

"Hmm..." Harritt pondered, scratching at his chin as you asked the question. "Perhaps a bit of weight on the shoulders where the iron links come together, which I could cut out for you should you wish it." Tapping a knuckle against the hardened leather, he looks at you with a half-hearted shrug.

"Truth be told, if you had asked me that two months ago I would have laughed. But after, well, this-" he said, motioning at the stabilized Breach. "Been trying to figure out a good substitute for inexperienced... Pilgrims."

Striding over to a nearby helm as he spoke, he picked it up and began spinning it in his hands, as if studying every close angle of it. "Chainmail tends to be the obvious answer for light and durable, but that doesn't work as well in the cold without insulation. Can't put inexperienced fighters in stiff, full plate, as if I even had enough metal for that. Most leathers are rather soft protection, but a few species have iron for backs..."

Turning back to you, he set the helmet down with a defeated sigh. "Ah, but those are troubles for me. For you... Druffalo hide might be your best bet. Durable enough to replace your chainmail.

[llama]

"Well, I apologize for putting all that hard work to naught. Perhaps someone else could wear it?" I ask with a bit of uncertainty, looking back to the custom fit piece of armor. Man, this guy must have gotten really excited for this. "And you do have this hide here, right?" Then again, this was on the subject of my performance in battle.. only the best for me seems to be the attitude of everyone here. Well, almost everyone.

[Benzo]

"Nay, someone will find it a fit, I'm sure." he replies, taking the leather bundle and setting it aside. "Aye, I've a few bundles, enough to fashion you something."

Walking over to another desk, this one covered in yellowed schematics of various designs, Harritt rubbed an index finger against his temple while making an audible hum-like thinking noise. Stopping, he then turned back to you with a smile.

"Now that you're up and walking, I suppose I should get some input from you; Spare a moment answering a few questions, Herald?"

[llama]

I find the nearest wall to lean against, nodding to his comment about giving away the armor. Some grunt was going to be really happy.
"Of course." My newfound insightfulness sure has been nice.. I'm not sure if I just never realized it was there or if it's just assumed by everyone.. huh. Hopefully it's the first.

[Benzo]

Leaning over the desk and grabbing a blank parchment, Harritt then uncorked a nearby inkwell and dipped a white-feathered pen into it. Looking up at you, he began;

"You said you've never worn armor, aye? Does that mean you prefer to be light on the feet, or are simply combat ignorant?" After asking the question, a quick frown crosses his face as he adds "I mean no offense, of course. You may be surprised how many of those 'soldiers' out there are... I simply ask so as to gauge where you'll need the armor to allow more slack."

[llama]

"Well, I've spent a good bit of my life on the streets so I have been in a couple scraps so I mean, I know how to fight, but maybe not soldier fightin'." I shrug a bit at this, not really sure what else to add to this. "I don't think I've killed a man in a fight. So uh.."

[Benzo]

"Never killed a man?" the blacksmith inquires curiously. "Surprised you survived that charge a few days ago. But, back to the subject at hand," he quickly adds, hitting down a few words before looking back at you.

"Your rapier; Strange weapon, but not the first I've handled. You're a flanker, I warrant?" After asking the question, Harritt makes a short humming noise in thought, tapping the feathered-end of the pen on his palm.