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[igetthatalot]

Not that the Hanged Man isn't a fine, cozy, positively homey kind of place for a dwarf in Varric's position, but once you've discovered Milliways you're more or less honor-bound to investigate it. What kind of a man would he be if he didn't seek out new opportunities, after all? Consequently, when the door opens this morning it admits a dwarf and

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[theunsmiling]

Michael's raised eyebrows are as likely to have much to do with the dwarf himself as they are with the crossbow on his back.

She swings around on her barstool, slouching to rest her elbows on the bartop as she watches him approach.

Her T-shirt is gray. Her jeans are ripped, and her dark hair is short and flyaway.

"There's a lot of things it pays to remember. Shockingly."

Her words have a dry twist to them. Her expression is a little more somber. It happens.

[igetthatalot]

"You know? I've noticed that myself," Varric says. "One more for the list, I suppose. Along with the fact that they don't seem to water down the drinks here, which is a refreshing change."

[theunsmiling]

"Maybe you need to change the kind of establishment you frequent. Or change the color of your coin."

She flicks the fingers of her left hand in a swift, dismissive gesture.

It goes well with the briskness of her words.

[igetthatalot]

"Possibly. The Hightown taverns don't generally mess with the drinks too much, at least not according to my brother," says Varric. "Then again, they're all controlled by the Merchants' Guild. I think I'll take my chances with the Hanged Man at home, and the rat things here."

[theunsmiling]

"Cheerful options, all," Michael observes dryly.

Tavern names are so distinct that way.