Can't spell 'fun' without cannibals!

[crowkiller]

Who: Zevran and you
Broadcast: Nah
Action: Arrival on the Hell Planet
When: Right now

Closed To Rowan

[A lot has happened in the whirlwind of him arriving. The oddly calming music, the strange and colorful paper that falls from the ceiling, and the pudding. It's doesn't really fit the burnt and destroyed atmosphere that this metal vessel is giving off. He didn't except to see a dead man walk up to him. He didn't expect his heart to surge with emotions as they kissed, touched, and spoke as only lovers would back to the bedroom.

The fact that Rowan was here made things a lot easier. Rowan knew some things about this place, but they were both learning together. Like right now, as they stalked through the dense forest, moving in the shadows trying not to make themselves out to be targets.]

Why do people eat others?

[Zevran is thinking out loud as he moves with careful footsteps. Maybe this isnt the best time to be talking about such a strange subject but...]

I mean-- I feel like humans wouldn't taste very good. Or elves for that matter. Most of us are so lanky to begin with, we must not have much meat on our bones. But do you think they just look at other people and instead of thinking 'wow, what a beautiful person, I want to fuck them.' Do they think 'I want to eat them'?


Fine elven crafts OTA

[Being an assassin, Zevran doesn't like it when he doesn't have weapons. While anything can be a weapon in his hands, he prefers his blades, his poisons, and his arrows. He doesn't have any of those right now, and the things on the ship were just not the best at what he needed them to do. Lucky for him, he remembered his time with the Dalish, even if it had been rather quick. He saw how they made their tools, how difficult could that be?

Turns out, very.

Zevran is struggling over some twine that he found. It's not the best bow string but its what he has right now. He takes a large piece of wood that he has found lying in the dirt somewhere, and with one end on the ground he tries to curve it by bending and trying the twine to it. It works for a moment, but then the wood breaks, the twine snaps in his face and with a yelp he falls back and holds his sting face.

New plan. Get his weapons back.]
 

Comments

[trudge]

[ Sneaking is not a difficult task for a pair of rogues, but Rowan has already seen these cannibals in action. The Vieziri are definitely not a group of hunters that should be taken lightly — and despite scoping out the forest a few times already, they still have the upper hand.

They should probably be quiet, but Zevran talks and Rowan — stupid, stupid Rowan — cannot help but reply. He laughs first, shrugging. ]

You mean you haven't looked at someone and thought 'I want to eat them'? Because I have. Just not to the extent that these people do. [ He winks. Gross. ]

[crowkiller]

[Zevran hasn't seen these natives. He doesn't know how dangerous they are, and honestly he has seen Darkspawn. They can not be as bad as them.]

Oh, I have seen a few people I want a taste of.

[His teeth flash as he grins back at Rowan.]

But they can only savour them once. I'm lucky, I can taste mine more.

[trudge]

That's true. Perhaps we should relay to them the pros and cons of eating people. We could change their minds and solve this whole issue with words.

[ OR, they could fight them. Because the Vieziri are hellbent on fighting them and no words, nor a strong leaflet campaign will get them to do otherwise. As he speaks, something whizzes past his head, a hunk of metal that he just barely manages to avoid. In an instant the good mood is gone, and Rowan is moving to cover Zevran as a group of Vieziri approach. ]

Care to give it a try? [ he jokes, adrenaline spiking as he reaches for the daggers he stole off a few of the hunters earlier. ]

[crowkiller]

You are more of a diplomat than I, my Warden.

[His grin fades at the sudden movement from the forest. He pulls the bow from his shoulder and a single arrow from his back. He didn't have time to make anything too fancy, and he only has 10 arrows. He needs to make these last, at least not until he can take something of use from their hunters.

He pulls the string back. The wood whines but luckily it doesn't break. It's simple, and nothing that can take the abuse he normally gives his weapons. It takes him less than a moment to pull, aim, and fire the arrow into the air. It hits a Vieziri in the chest and a guttural sound is heard as it falls. Zevran's eyes narrow as a more serious look appears on his face. He glances to Rowan.]

I'll cover you.

[veilstrike]

[ Leilani has decided that wandering around the forest can be quite nice, if she tells herself that the threat of cannibalistic hunters isn't quite as bad as it seemed to be. She's fought Darkspawn and Qunari warriors and demons and spirits and humans - cannibals are hardly the top of the list of 'awful things the Inquisitor has fought and survived'. All it means is that she's a little dirtier than usual with a few extra bruises.

The yelp is what attracts her attention and, frowning, she follows the sound. When she steps out and spots another elf she blinks, for a moment, as if it's some kind of illusion, voices in the back of her mind hissing at her in some language she has no hope of understanding just yet. When she realises what has happened... It's impossible for her not to laugh, her lips twitching a little as she tries to swallow it back. ]

Aneth ara. You should pick stronger wood.

[ Looking around, she frowns before she steps over and finds a new branch for him, moving to drop down next to him as if they're old friends and she knows exactly who he is. She has no idea, of course, but she reaches for his string and starts to make it for him, as if she was back with her clan and practicing what it meant to be a Keeper. ]

[crowkiller]

[Zevran tenses for just a moment when he hears that greeting. He's heard it before, with his brief time with the Dalish and then again when the Warden called for their assistance. He has no idea what it means though, only that it's normally used in greeting. he doesn't know what to say in return, instead he just smiles an embarrassed smile as she comes closer.]

I will admit, I am more skilled with shooting the bow than crafting one.

[He watches as she picked up the piece of wood and makes it look so easy. His eyes looks at her face. His eyes narrow for a moment. She spoke Elven, and she clearly knows what she is doing, but she didn't have the tattoos that he was use to seeing on the Dalish. How odd.]

Beautiful and skillful. [He watches as she does what he could not.] It's impressive.

[veilstrike]

[ She notes the way he guards himself, just a little, and she doesn't judge him for his lack of greeting in response. She's been around Sera and Solas long enough that she doesn't expect it, despite her heritage. She might be the most Dalish person in Skyhold but it doesn't make her quite as judgemental as some of her clan had been in the past; she doesn't have the time nor the energy to do it.

They get enough of it from humans, anyway, don't they? ]

It was the same for many people in my clan. I was always interested in how to craft, however.

[ His eyes burn onto her face and she knows, without even questioning him, what he must be thinking. She speaks of her clan, of crafting, of making things, but she has no vallaslin to prove that she was ever part of one. It's a question no one has really broached, yet, and she wonders if this stranger will be the first. At least his idle flirtation makes her smile. ]

It is simply what I was taught to do. I wished to be a hunter before I became First. [ Handing out the bow, she nods her head. ] I am Leilani of Clan Lavellan.

[bryces_pup]

[Boy that's a way to see an old friend again. By coming around the corner just in time to see him get hit in the face with some twine. It's shock, nostalgia, and amusement all hitting her at once, leaving Riona standing and staring for a few seconds too long. That is most definitely Zevran, but the question is, does he remember her?

Chances are, probably not. She knows better than to assume Atroma will be that kind to her. She shoves all that down; she needs to make sure he's okay. Which, he appears to be as she steps closer. Probably a cut on his cheek. His pride probably took more of a hit than anything.]

Ah, I don't think that's... quite how that works.

[crowkiller]

[He rubs his cheek with his hand as she comes near. Well, that is one way to make a first impression on a beautiful woman.]

Damn, it seems I have had it wrong this entire time.

[He chuckles and smiles to her.]

I'm use to weapons being just given to me. This is a bit much.

[bryces_pup]

[Damn. That's a no, then. Riona of course didn't expect anything else, but it doesn't soften the sting much. But that doesn't mean she's going to just give up. Though it will mean starting things over from scratch, but that's to contemplate on at another time.]

Atroma doesn't like letting us arrive armed, sadly. Which normally isn't a huge issue, but it is given our current circumstances. [She reaches behind her and pulls out the dagger she keeps on her. She holds it out to him.] Here. It's only one, but it's better than nothing.

[samahl]

[Before he had settled into life as a Hunter, Cyril had been up for an apprenticeship with the Crafter. He had learned quite a bit from her during those early years, and had mastered a lot more of his stills as an Artificer after he became the Inquisitor.

He's out in the woods setting traps to try and catch some of the more murderous of the raiders when he hears the yelp. Worried that it's someone who has been attached he quickly moves to the sound and finds an elf. Surprised, he pauses, just out of view for a moment as he tries to figure out what exactly made Zevran cry out.

When he realizes it was a broken weapon, Cyril carefully moves into a space where Zevran can see him.]

Do you need assistance?

[crowkiller]

I need a ready bow.

[He chuckles and rubs his poor cheek. His pride hurts a bit more than his now bruised cheek. He's surprised to see another elf here of all placed. Guess more people from Thedas were kidnapped than just him and Rowan.]

Are you a Crafter then?

[samahl]

I was once almost one. I chose to be a Hunter instead.

[A small smile.] And the fact that you knew to ask means you're from Thedas? Antivan?

[He comes closer and holds out his good hand - the other is very noticeably made of wood - offering to take a look at the bow for him.]

[wolfuncaged]

[Fenris was absolutely not expecting to run into Zevran of all people out here. He wondered when the other elf showed up, probably during all this mess. He approaches with some caution, always hard to tell at what point in the sprawling Thedosian timeline people are from. ]

...I think you would be better off sticking to blades.

[crowkiller]

[If Zevran knew exactly Who Fenris was, maybe he wouldn't expect him either. But he doesn't. So he's wondering how this man knows his skill with blades. He must know the Crows or at least heard of Zevran in some way. He shrugs with a smile on his face.]

I definitely can't make a blade.

[wolfuncaged]

[Ah the lack of recognition is somewhat comforting. Fenris can live with that- it's a little easier to deal with than trip around the minefield that is their world and all the facets that exist of it. ]

It is a shame- the Iskaulit has a forge- unfortunately it is up there. [He points skyward.] What ship are you on? If you have a security officer, they may be able to offer you a blade or two from their armoury.

[whatisright]

[Justice doesn't mean to be so quiet when he walks. He's just a spirit, so it happens naturally. His footsteps are silent as he approaches the elf, and he passes through the brush leaving it practically undisturbed.

And then the elf hits himself in the face with a piece of twine.

Justice's brow furrows in mild concern, but it may not be easy to read his expression because he always looks like he's glaring.]

Are you attempting to make a bow?

[That's what it looks like he's doing. He's doing it really badly, but that's what it looks like he's doing.]

[crowkiller]

[The sudden voice makes Zevran jump from his seat. If he had a dagger it would be out right now, but sadly all he had was this sad excuse for bow.]

No. I'm knitting.

[He says sharply as the sting makes his face burn. His eyes narrow as he looks over to the new comer and-- it's a corpse? His eyes narrow slightly as he looks at the man up and down once then twice. Yep, that was a dead man.]

And....you are?

[whatisright]

You are not-- [Wait. Justice remembers that rule for when mortals say something blatantly ridiculous.] You are joking. Of course.

[Justice shakes his head. He will probably never understand mortal humor, but at least he will learn how to recognize when it's being used.]

I am patrolling the woods. [He cocks his head, his perpetual frown gaining a small furrow in his brow.] Are you lacking weapons?

[wolfehawke]

[Hawke's been improving a bit. The weariness from calling on unpracticed magics is finally starting to subside as time passes and his leg is coming along healing naturally to where he doesn't have to lean so much on his makeshift staff unless he's been walking for hours. Granted, he's had to walk for hours back and forth to the signal tower and scavenging materials between crashed ships, but right now his limp isn't so bad that he can't use the stick instead to brace across his shoulders and balance two bags of scrap salvage he intends to take back to the Tourist to aid in her repair.

Or that's the plan anyway, until he hears a yelp. Being the heroic type he is, of course he rushes to investigate. There's cannibals about, after all, and he's not going to leave anyone to fight that alone.

Instead of cannibals however, Hawke finds a familiar elf in the dirt with his hand on his face.]

Zevran?!

[People do turn up in the strangest places.]

[crowkiller]

[Zevran is fine being alone in the woods when embarrassing things happen to him. His pride doesn't get hurt as much, but then when he hears his name. It's an unfamiliar voice and when he turns to see the man he doesn't recognize him.

This isn't the best first impression, but it seems this may not be their first meeting. He wonders just how drunk he was when they encountered each other. Very if he can't recall a handsome face like that.]

Yes?

[Play it cool Zev.]

[wolfehawke]

[Right, well, that response doesn't give Adalwolfe any clues as if whether Zevran remembers him or not, leaving the question of when and which Thedas he's from still a mystery. Though, considering the absolutely savage flirting that went on before, Wolfe is willing to bet that a simple 'yes?' means Zevran doesn't remember. Still, can't be too sure with rogues.]

How long have you been in the Fleet? Atroma sure does seem to be happily plucking people from Thedas lately.

[He puts the stick with the scrap attached down in order to rest for a moment, the metal shards and bits of random electronics rattling in their nets.]

[ofkirkwall]

[ Truly it is a poor decision to wander the forest alone, there is all sorts of cannibals and other terrible monsters (most likely) wandering about. But Marian Hawke has never claimed to be an intelligent individual and so she wanders alone, through the forest in search of something she hasn't quite decided on yet. A cliff, a camp full of cannibals, something.

The yelp stops her in her tracks, frowning she narrows her gaze and takes hold of her staff. Could be a trap, or someone in trouble, or trouble in general, either way she creeps forward expecting something terrible at the source. What she finds, however, is a familiar face making a rather pitiful attempt at crafting himself a bow. Lowering her staff Hawke finds herself smiling, half wanting to simply stand and watch this display for a moment longer. ]

Maybe a larger stick will suffice.

[ In the end she can't help but announce her presence, head tilting to the side as she steps forward. Maker, it is good to see him again. Of all the people she met during her time in Kirkwall she liked Zervan the most, outside of her companions of course. It was always a shame he didn't stick around, things would have been interesting if he had. But she doubts he remembers Kirkwall, or her, or the way Fenris bristled as Hawke laughed and flirted with the other elf. ]

Or forgo the bow entirely and find yourself a blade.

[crowkiller]

[His eyes narrow when he hears someone near him. Great. Someone saw that pitiful display. When the stranger steps out his eyes are still narrow in suspicion, but there is a lighter look to them because well....it's a beautiful woman. His weakness.]

The large stick was the idea behind this.

[He smiles as he stands from his spot on the ground. He looks down at his sad excuse for a bow and just tosses aside.]

I am better with blades, but I had a thought that a bow would be best for this situation.

[ofkirkwall]

[ There is a fondness to her expression she can't seem to hide, or want to hide, watching him stand from his place on the ground laughter forming on her lips. She glances at the stick he had tossed away, then the staff in her hands. ]

Well, you can't go to wrong with a big stick.

[ She might use it to bludgeon someone were it not for the deadly blade on the end of it, very useful when one finds themselves unable to cast spells. ]

If you're intent on a bow perhaps we could steal you one, if not... [ With a single motion she pulls a blade from her belt, a souvenir from one of her pursuers - its a little larger than a dagger but still sharp enough to kill a man. ] I'd be more than willing to gift you this.