so an elf and a witch of the wilds walk into a bar....

[elfroot]

Characters: Zevran Arainai, Morrigan, Alistair I hope, and anyone else who might be interested...
Setting/Location: One very lucky inn!
Date & Time: Day 0, morningish
Warnings: Do not disturb a sleeping witch.
Summary: In order to leave town, you must first choose your party members.

Comments

[dissentive]

"Quit your incessant rambling, elf," Morrigan snaps unkindly, lifting herself up to lean on the back of her elbows so she could glare at the elf more properly before sitting up fully. "They are my rooms because I have woken up here," she began, but her voice trailed off as she further listened. "Why would I bring you here? I have little use for your organs. T'was clearly you who has done away with our other companions." She threw the covers away from her form, rising from the bed to hobble over to where she had seen her staff propped up against the wall in the far corner. Hobble, yes - she had received a harsh wound upon her leg during the scuffle at the landsmeet, and while Wynne had been so gracious as to (reluctantly) heal it, Morrigan still felt the phantom pains (which she thusly blamed the old woman for).

"Very well, if I am so inclined to believe you - you did not bring me here, and I certainly did not bring you here, then..." She paused. She was unused to having much say in the matters at hand - the Warden was the final

[elfroot]

Zevran glanced at Morrigan, perhaps sensing her curiosity. This was a strange thing for anyone to say--a strange thing for even Alistair to say. Most curious, indeed.

"'Who is Oghren?'" Zevran repeated. "Even I will be the first to admit this is no time for a joke, no matter how much poor taste it is in! And you know how I feel about jokes, especially dirty ones."

He returned his focus to the curious device, turning it over in his hands very gently--best not to break it before one bought it, and certainly best not to break it before one found out how expensive it was!

"Alistair, I know that this will be very difficult for you, but try--just for a moment--to think. Try very, very hard. Your name is Alistair, as I hope you know; you are a Grey Warden, so they say; and Oghren is a loud, compact, and entirely unforgettable dwarf. The stench alone is enough to remember him by! Have you been knocked one too many times about the ears by darkspawn? I am...beginning to be worried about you."

[righteous]

Alistair rolled his eyes. "Yeeees, we all know about that, I'm pretty sure you won't let us forget."

And forget Alistair could not, he remembered all the uncomfortable moments when Zevran would make said dirty jokes. The guy couldn't go five minutes without it seemed.

"Andraste's flaming sword Zevran!" He scowled. "I know who I am, why do you think I want to get back?" Alistair was furious at the very idea that he had forgotten his duty, his main responsibility. He would never forget he was a Grey Warden! Besides, he wasn't the one making people up.

"A dwarf? We haven't even been to Orzammar yet. Are you sure you haven't been knocked about a bit?" He tried to stop himself from saying it, he really did, but it just rolled out. He closed his eyes in anticipation and sighed.

"Actually, don't answer that, it'll only lead to another joke, I'm sure."

[dissentive]

"Unfortunately," Morrigan could not help but comment to Alistair's initial statement. Zevran did have the rather annoying ability to keep his mouth wide open.

His words made Morrigan's brow furrow deeply. Alistair did not remember - to the point, indeed, that he seemed to have forgotten a large portion of their journey, and was so certain that he had not yet experienced them. 'Twas most curious. Perhaps whatever spell that had brought them here - or had them think they were brought here - had affected Alistair's mind more than Morrigan could imagine. Or maybe, indeed, he had his head hit far too much. This was much more likely.

Though, to be honest, she would have much preferred had they skipped Orzammar all together. She was certain she had lost the majority of her scarves to the dwarf to roll his fish in and wipe his nose with. Indeed, had she known Oghren had such a fancy for women's accessories, she would have even fetched him some so that he stop using hers.

[elfroot]

Of all the people who wished to forget Orzammar--and its particular indecencies, not to mention the truly haunting events they had encountered in that place; not just the Broodmother herself, though she was fodder enough for nightmares, but the truth behind her, and what had transpired in those Deep Roads--Zevran believed himself uncommonly high upon that list. But he had not forgotten, nor would he ever forget. Likewise, he was certain beyond a doubt that Alistair had been there. Daydreaming, perhaps, but he had helped slay the beast, and had made comment enough regarding that particular little excursion that it seemed quite unlikely the man would have forgotten it completely. If only because it was so simple to complain about it, really

[righteous]

Alistair was sure he heard the faint voice of Morrigan coming through the device. He was probably just hearing things, or maybe...he shook the thought from his mind; being swooped up by a Witch of the Wilds wasn't something he wanted to think about.

"Riiight, I'll try to keep that in mind." He was of course oblivious to Zevran's clever stalling, but then Alistair had never been one to pick up on these things; perception was a rarity he'd only enjoyed a handful of times.

Zevran was so adamant about what he was saying though, and Alistair tried to process it - to work out what it could all mean - but nothing.

"Nope. I had nothing on my mind. I'm Alistair, I don't think. At all." Well it was one way of getting the point across to Zevran, a joke would surely fare better than just arguing about some dwarf.

The mention of Morrigan suddenly put the thought of being swooped came back into his mind. He had tried so hard to push the thought out, really he did. He groans.

"I'd rather not be stuck, much less with Morrigan of all people." At

that is wayyy fine with me haha

[dissentive]

Morrigan scowled. 'twas not as if she had any desire to be stranded with Alistair, neither - she would have indeed preferred Oghren, of all people. But beggars cannot be choosers, and she would be foolish to deny that though she would find enjoyment in drowning Alistair alongside a bag of kittens, their particular talents did complement eachother well enough on the field of battle. And Zevran, well, at least he could pick locks. While she quietly goaded Alistair and his supplemental amounts of stupidity, she knew at least that there were more pressing matters at hand.

"Perhaps 'twould be wise to inquire as to where the toadstool has managed to hovel himself," Morrigan prompted languidly, though she had had quite enough of all their idiotic banter. They were wasting time - indeed, twas certain that they were wasting Morrigan's time, above all else. In the time it would take to remind the fool that Cousland was male, they would surely all be dead! Or perhaps bored to thus.