Entrance

[venhedis]

Another night getting drunk at the Hanged Man tavern, another prowling gang of idiot thugs taught a bloody lesson, another night losing at Diamondback or Wicked Grace with a braggart of a dwarf and a shameless pirate wench...

This is not the Hanged Man.Without a moment's pause, a muted *crack* like far-off thunder makes the stranger's body run

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[acts_of_gord]

A human pokes his head up from the other side of the couch near the fire, blinking through .... well, he's got something on his face, anyway; if spectacles exist somewhere in Tevinter no one's told us.

"Problem?" he finally says. He was pretty soundly asleep a minute ago. Might take him a bit to get his speech back.

[venhedis]

The stranger pivots swiftly and brings his sword to bear on the human.

"What fell magic is this?" he growls in a voice like gravel in a river of caramel.

[acts_of_gord]

Well. That's new. The Combine don't generally point swords at him.

"This is Milliways. It was an accident," Gordon says. "The first time people come here generally is."

He's not going to bother with put that thing down, there's no violence allowed on the premises. It's pretty clear that won't end well.

[venhedis]

The human seems harmless -- pathetically so in fact -- but that's no reason to be caught off guard.

"This place -- Milliways, you call it?" he asks cautiously, trying the word out on his tongue. "It is quite realistic for an accident. Is this magic?" He says it like a curse. "The Fade?"

[acts_of_gord]

"We call it a borderworld, where I come from," says Gordon. He pushes himself off the couch and stands up, revealing what looks like a suit of oddly-made orange and grey armor, and a length of metal at his side that couldn't be further from a sword if it tried. "A different dimension. I don't know what this Fade is."

He can guess, of course, but when you have a sword like that in play it's best not to make wrong guesses.

[venhedis]

Tentatively, still vigilant, he sheathes his sword and stands straight. But the eerie glow remains, seeming to emanate from the silvery -- are they tattoos? -- swirling along his skin.

He holds up his right hand like a claw, aimed at the human. His hand is covered in a gauntlet that is mostly sharp edges of metal. The fingers are elongated and as pointed as talons. The stranger still obviously considers himself well-armed.

"I know not of dimensions. The Dalish speak of different worlds, but they ..." one side of his mouth almost curls in a smirk, "are Dalish." Then, deadly serious again, "Give me your word you mean me no harm and I will spare your life. For now."

[acts_of_gord]

If they're not tattoos, they're the most fluid circuit-lines Gordon's seen in a long time. Not that Gordon's ever seen a cyborg that wasn't made by the Combine, but he can get the general idea- and regardless, it's pretty obvious that he's not dealing with a cyborg now, unless things are very strange on the other side of this guy's door.

"Don't know them either," Gordon says. "But all right. No harm meant or intended, I swear."

[venhedis]

"Very well." He takes a deep breath, and with a shout of very real pain that throws his head and arms back, the glow disappears. The tattoos remain, however, shining like painted mercury.

He looks at the human again, head held high. "I am Fenris," he announces. Then he takes a moment to actually look at his surroundings for the first time. "And this is... a tavern? In a world elsewhere?"

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon can't help but wince sympathetically at that. When the questions start, he nods. "Pretty much," he says. "Outside of the space and time you know. Or any of us. My name's Gordon Freeman. This place is called Milliways."

He'd go into more detail, but he's not a big speaker even at the best of times.

[venhedis]

Fenris nods politely, "Serah Freeman."

Now that he's not glowing and growling, his features are more easily made out. He is olive-skinned with grey-green eyes and pointed ears. His hair is pure white but his eyebrows are deep black. He wears a metal breastplate and armor that is mostly made of leather spikes, over skin tight leggings. His feet are bare.

"The only place I know outside space and time is the Fade, a land of dreams and magic, demons and temptations. This...is not where I meant to be. And yet it is not the Fade, and as you say, not magic." Once again he considers his surroundings. "If this is indeed a tavern, I would have a strong drink."

[acts_of_gord]

"There are people who will claim it's magic," Gordon says, grimacing a little at having to make the admission. "Where I come from, most of what people call 'magic' is just phenomena they don't understand yet. The bar, there-" He nods towards the fixture, which has no attendant behind it. "When no one is on duty, the Bar takes orders by itself. We have machines at home that can understand spoken words or move things from one place to another. Anybody can use them, if they get their hands on one. It wouldn't surprise me if that was what the Bar was."

"That, or the rats will take orders, but I'm not sure they're really rats. Some other intelligent creature, or devices made to look like rats, maybe."

[venhedis]

"I have no love of magic," Fenris says, as if that wasn't obvious already, "but I do know of animals who think." In fact, he now notices polite rats scurrying around carrying trays. "Perhaps this is a dream," he muses, then calls over one of the rats. "I would have a goblet of strong Orlesian wine."

[acts_of_gord]

The rat chirrups in reply and scurries off to the kitchen. Gordon notes, "Local policy is, the first drink is free. After that, you either pay on the spot or they run a tab for you."

He shifts a little from one foot to another, realizing that he probably should have changed out of his armor when he got here, tired or no.

"You might want to be careful with the sword, by the way. They have security here- guards, with badges- and they have rules against fighting inside the Bar."

[venhedis]

Fenris actually smiles a bit. Will wonders never cease? "This is indeed not the Hanged Man. The bloodstains on the floor there have soaked into the wood."

The rat returns with a goblet on a tray.

"Thank you, Serah Rat." He sniffs the contents, then drains the goblet. "To find Orlesian wine in such a strange place! Yet I can taste it, so this is not a dream." He gestures to Gordon. "You are a generous and hospitable man, serah. May I buy you a drink?" Then he frowns. "Does this tavern accept silver?"

[acts_of_gord]

"I've been a stranger in strange places too many times not to know how it feels," Gordon murmurs. "Thank you. I could probably use coffee. Yes, they take silver here. They'll take any currency."

Better, he figures, to be properly awake.

[venhedis]

Fenris reaches under his breastplate and removes a small drawstring purse. He places a silver coin on the rat's tray. "A goblet of co-fee for Serah Freeman, and more wine for me, if you please." A pause, and then he adds another coin. "Perhaps you should bring the bottle."