action ♪ we like to party

[merchantprince]

Who: Varric and maybe even you.
Broadcast: Communication is pretty spotty, but you're welcome to pick up the occasional words/phrases.
Action: Anyone on the way-station
When: Early January? I'm not looking for a specific date, just 'before he goes to the forest'.

[Varric appears to have an enthralled audience in this restaurant. He's got some Floot Loops cocktail thing in one hand, with a cute little fruity straw, and he's gesturing wildly with the other hand while he describes something or another. There are more drinks and plenty more food on the table behind him.]

—and then the thing exploded! Right in her face! She just reached up and wiped the blood across her nose, like facepaint. The rest of them turned tail and fled. Why the hell would they stay? Their leader was dead, and they had a pretty pissed-off mage wearing its blood like a damned war trophy.

The rest of that's in my book. Tale of the Champion. I don't want to spoil the whole thing for you all, so you'll have to wait until I find a publishing company out here. I'll take suggestions. And donations.

[He sips his drink. The aliens appear to be clearing out, however reluctantly.]

[ooc: Come have a drink! Or... a non alcoholic drink... with Varric.]

Comments

[got_it_memorized]

No, no you can't. [He's actually not even sure who survived the fall of Radiant Garden and who didn't. He knows the crowd that wound up in Traverse Town is still around, but he hasn't really spent any time in Hollow Bastion, and he doesn't mean to.

[He clears his throat, shakes his head, and takes another sip of his drink.]

Enough of that sort of talk, though. I think we're supposed to be having fun here, aren't we? So what do you do in your spare time? Besides write books, that is.

[merchantprince]

[He lets the topic drop, not wanting to spoil the taste of his drink any further. There's something nice about-- about that acknowledgement, about not being alone. Usually people say Kirkwall is shit but they have no real idea what it's like without Hawke.

He waves a waitress down for a fried snack of some sort, then returns his attention to Axel.]

I like telling stories. But I guess you're sharp enough to know that's not really much of a day job.

[He tilts his head.]

House Tethras is part of the Merchant's Guild. Imagine a whole bunch of dwarves arguing over the price of steel for fifteen hours, and that's what I have to deal with. It's cutthroat business. Literally. Sometimes they hire other people to kill each other.

[got_it_memorized]

House Tethras, eh? Sounds important. [Is he a nobleman back home? How interesting~] There were no dwarves in my hometown, so I must admit to a bit of ignorance here--are you blacksmiths, then? Or do you guys deal in the raw materials only?

[merchantprince]

We were, kinda, about fifty years ago... until my father pissed someone off and got exiled. Dwarven nobility is like that. Up on the surface we're all basically the same. I get a nicer chair in the Guild and people trying to lick my boots so they can get a chair, too. That's about it.

[He could really do without the boot-licking.]

We learn what our parents did, which can be just about anything. The more useful, the higher rank you have. [He doesn't look at the communicator.] Some clans really adhere to the family occupation thing. Some don't. Either way, it doesn't mean shit when we're all technically peasants on the surface.

[got_it_memorized]

'The Surface'? So dwarves live underground usually? I wouldn't have expected a stratification like that, between a subterranean race and the people who live topside, but I guess people will take any reason to look down on others. [He makes a bit of a face, then waves a hand.] I don't mean to be nosy, I just find this kinda stuff interesting. I never got to travel much as a kid so... now that I have the option to learn about other people, I really like it, you know?

[merchantprince]

Yep, they do. There's a good population of surface dwarves now, but there's a sort of-- a schism. It's stupid. Orzammar has to import some things to keep going, since it's the last dwarven city left. But then they look down on the people who do it.

[He takes a drink.]

Anyway, that's life. You don't change with the times, you get left behind.

It's not really nosy though. I know I'm the only dwarf here; it's hard to miss me even if I'm half your size. [He chuckles.] Besides, I like hearing the sound of my own voice, so thank you for indulging me.

[got_it_memorized]

You do have quite the presence, despite your diminutive stature. [Axel grins and takes another swig of his beer, then laughs softly.] I know how that goes--it's nice to have an audience, after all. I'd be happy to listen to more of your stories sometime, honestly. Unless I have to wait for the book; I'm not sure I've got the patience for that.