TFLN overflow.

[questionablewit]

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[nobroth]

The last time I went somewhere rocky, there was a dragon.

...Fine.

Poor, poor Alistair. And poor, still naive Marian.

[questionablewit]

I should be so lucky. I've only seen one dragon, and I'm not sure she counted.

Anyway, I suspect all we'll get are rocks and a lot of justifiably disgruntled refugees who hate their boss. And more rocks.

At least it's a threat he knows. And has been chewed on by.

[nobroth]

I'll bring my good shield, anyway. Fereldans are good at throwing rocks. I should know.

A straightforward one that can still be solved with stabbing. Also, small.

[questionablewit]

You have a good shield and a bad shield? Why would you bother to have a bad shield? Or is one of them just more polite than the other?

"Oh, this is much smaller than the last one."

[nobroth]

I have a good shield and a standard Kirkwall-guard issue shield, which isn't bad but it's not for my fellow Fereldans chucking rocks at me.

"How many have you run into?? Are you some sort of dragon magnet?"

[questionablewit]

It's true, we are all remarkable rock throwers. I'm amazed no one talks about it. We all smell like dogs, eat turnips, and throw rocks. It's the law.

Lives far too interesting, these two.

[nobroth]

It's because no one wants to wade through Orlais to get to us. That's the only reason they don't mention it.

So when do I need to come to this mine? Now?

In any AU. BTW, who was the Warden in this one?

[questionablewit]

Well, can you blame them?

This afternoon? In all seriousness, I want to check this out sooner rather than later. The workers are all Ferelden refugees, and there aren't many people willing to hire us these days. Call it wanting to look after our countrymen. Those of us who eat turnips and throw rocks need to stick together.

I'm thinking Mahariel.

[nobroth]

This afternoon is fine. I've been putting in extra hours for the sake of boredom, so I should be able to switch out without a problem. Should I bring Aveline or is one shield enough for the trip?

Male, female, previous romance, sacrifice/dark ritual?

[questionablewit]

One shield should be enough. I'm bringing my sister and Varric, four of us should be plenty. Five, if you count the mabari.

Speaking of which, I hope you got the drool off your boot and I promise he's very, very sorry.

Male Mahariel, did the dark ritual on his own, romanced Zev.

[nobroth]

This boot has had worse on it than drool. So long as it doesn't leak in the future, there's no problem - I get a new pair every year now, thanks to being in the guards. One of the benefits!

Awesome. Also I'm assuming Aveline isn't Captain yet.

[questionablewit]

Ooh, I see regular employment has its perks! I should find some, the best I manage is the occasional pair of torn trousers I find in a barrel in Lowtown.

At any rate, between Teo and this favor I owe you a meal or something, once I sell enough torn trousers to be able to afford one. Thanks.

That works!

[nobroth]

I'll take you up on the meal on one condition.

Please don't ask me to eat fish. Please. I'm so tired of fish.

[questionablewit]

Don't worry, I wasn't proposing it be a condition of the meal that I order for you. But how is it that you've been drowning in fish? As it were. You know what I mean.

[nobroth]

Drowning in fish is a horrible mental image, and yet it's accurate. Fish is the cheapest thing to get here, and they shove it at the guard pretty regularly. At this point, I'd almost kill someone for some good Fereldan beef.

[questionablewit]

Someday when I'm rich and famous I'll get you another meal with good Fereldan beef, but in the meantime will you settle for pie? I promise no fish. Though probably not beef either, most likely pigeon. Or cat.

...kidding. That'd be if I took you down to Darktown for a meal, which I definitely don't suggest as I want you to like me. I do know a good pie shop in Lowtown, though.

[nobroth]

I will absolutely settle for pie. I will even eat pigeon. I am not an uppity Orlesian. But I do draw the line at cat and dog.

But you don't have to worry, Hawke. I already like you.

[questionablewit]

You wouldn't if I fed you pie in Darktown. Trust me.

Pigeon's not bad, actually, with the right sauce. Though I miss chicken. I can't believe I just said that, I grew up on a farm and would've sworn I never wanted to see a chicken ever again. Even as food.

[nobroth]

Okay, if you're paying and you miss chicken, I know exactly where we should go. There's a place off Lowtown, heading toward the northern city exit. They get a cartload of chickens every day. I've had the pleasure of eating ONE since I got here.

shall we time skip to after the dragon so they can complain about it on their way home?

[questionablewit]

You're on. One probably uneventful trip out to a mine filled with rocks and turnip-eaters in exchange for one meal of chicken and absolutely no fish. Everyone wins. We'll meet you at the city gates.

Can do!

[nobroth]

"Rocks and turnip-eaters," Alistair muttered as he watched Bethany and Varric go on ahead. Varric had promised "Sunshine" a good meal and a place to rest. Alistair was pretty sure he needed the same. His old-but-good armour had a few dents in it that it hadn't had before, but it had stood up to the punishment better than his Guard armour would've. The silverite was a bit hard to hide, though, and harder to explain if anyone had asked. Thankfully, they'd somehow taken him as some sort of foreign dignitary and no one had said a word.

Hawke probably would. But that would have to happen after the coming conversation about, "I'm pretty sure dragons don't eat turnips."

[questionablewit]

"I said I was sorry," Hawke groaned, for perhaps the fifth time. Her head hurt. Actually her everything hurt. Thank the Maker Alistair had come with them, that was for sure; his armor was much, much better than theirs.

Suspiciously better, actually, but she was holding that thought for later. Whatever the reason, he'd been able to take a number of hits that would have knocked the rest of them off their feet, and done worse damage besides. In those circumstances, she wasn't going to argue.

Not about the armor, at least. "Though technically the Orlesians call us turnips, and that dragon certainly wanted to eat us, so..."

[nobroth]

"So you think it was an Orlesian dragon? I suppose that would make sense, given the thing's attitude toward our fellow Fereldans."

It might not have been the best advised thing, but he still started unbuckling his gauntlets. He wanted air on some part of him, at least, and getting rid of those would be a start. As he flexed his fingers, he sighed. "Damnation, I hate dragons..."

And he hadn't even had to ring a gong this time. Just show up and bam, dragons.

"They're more forward in Kirkwall."

[questionablewit]

The armor she'd let pass, but this? She shot him a speculative, slightly incredulous look. "How many dragons have you run into?" she demanded. She'd already guessed the number was non-zero, given that he'd shouted out useful tactical advice at the time. "I wasn't aware they were such common household pests. Should I be ordering some powder or something to deter them?"

[nobroth]

"I, uh." It wasn't prevarication. His eyes were narrowed and he was trying to count just how many when he ended up shaking his head. "I couldn't tell you. A few, anyway, but I don't know if there's a way to deter them. What I can tell you is where there are little ones, there's a High Dragon somewhere nearby, and the one we fought today wasn't a High Dragon. So, we've not found the mother just yet."

Buckling his gauntlets together, he hung them from his belt, opposite his sword. "So we'll need to keep an eye on that quarry. She's nested around there somewhere."