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[byblow]

crystal • notes • drop-in visits • etc.
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[byblow]

Aw, poor old Zevran. Are there any evil witches in the evil swamp? Find one and try to make her so angry she can't talk. That's how I got by, anyway.

[ombranera]

Alas, there is a distinct lack of sneaky witch thieves in the bog. Or handsome chantry boys for me to oogle. Or disapproving old women to tease about their bosom.

[byblow]

I don't think you're looking hard enough. Or you need to be more flexible. Try looking for a disapproving Chantry thief or a handsome, sneaky old woman.

[ombranera]

Or perhaps I might play 'I spy'. That seemed to work for you well enough.

[byblow]

There's an idea. Do you have anyone to play with?

[ombranera]

Not at the moment. Everyone else is trudging along, trying to ignore the rain and the mud. I am seriously beginning to miss the dog.

[byblow]

We could get you a puppy. [ Surely being a veteran of the Fifth Blight is worth a puppy. And in the meantime: ] I'll play with you. I've seen bogs. They're all the same.

[ombranera]

I already have one. He's a lovely shade of copper and has a fondness for cheese. [ It does earn Alistair a faint crackle of laughter. ] Ah, well then. I spy something that starts with...B.

[byblow]

Heeeey.

[ Because pitiful whining is the best way to convince someone he isn't a puppy. ]

Bog? Do you see a bog? You can't use the whole bog, Zevran, that's boring.

[ombranera]

He is housebroken and everything- or at least he was when I left him. [ This is much better than walking alone and bored. ] No, it is not a bog. But it is in the bog.

[byblow]

That won't last. He'll be wild before you get back.

Is iiiiiiit. A bullfrog?

[ombranera]

This is what I get for letting him run loose in the yard. Next time I shall have to leash him.

[ Now that was a pitiful image, staked down just out of reach of cheese. ]

Alas, no, not a bullfrog.

[byblow]

[ File under: excuses to think about Alistair in a collar. ]

Ha. Try it.

Boat? Or—if it's buttocks, I'm going to be very—

[ Not surprised. Not particularly disappointed, either. In addition to being better than silent trudging, this is much better than listening to Old Gods try to lull him underground. ]

—something.

[ombranera]

If he's very good and sits still for the leash, he will get a special treat.

[ Mmm. Alistair in a leash. ]

Not a boat, and not buttocks. Everyone is wearing their cloaks, it is hard to see. I must use my imagination for those.

[byblow]

You're starting to sound weird, Zev. [ But. ] How special a treat?

I'm sure your imagination is better than what they're hiding. Hmm—buttons? Blood?

[ombranera]

Took two favors and a blood debt to find special. But he is worth it.

[ Dying makes a lot of things worth it. ]

Close on the last, but no.

[byblow]

What have I told you about blood debts?

Blood...y noses? Blood brothers? Oh, blood lotus.

[ombranera]

Not to do then while you're about? And that is correct. Blood Lotus. Quite a bit, actually. The healers and scouts are ever so pleased.

[byblow]

Or at all, Zevran. Someday you'll get entangled in the wrong personal feud.

[ And on that day who will he hide behind, if Alistair is too dead to tank? ]

Ha. I win. Now I spy--something that begins with H.

[ombranera]

After the one that brought me into your ever fine service, I think I'll take my chances.

[ He sighs, half fond and half weary. Learning the truth of that had been...well. Difficult. ]

Hmm. Could it be Hay?

[byblow]

That's the thing. You probably used up all your good luck getting to meet me. Now there's none left.

[ And--Maker. ]

Nnnno.

[ It was totally hay. He doesn't sound very convincing. But there are three other things in this stable that start with an H, so there. ]

[ombranera]

I have been plenty lucky since we last parted ways, Alistair, and I've more luck yet to spare.

[ If only he could pass it along to the Warden. ]

...You are still a terrible liar, my friend. Please tell me you are not seriously sleeping in the stables.

[byblow]

You might not be lucky. You might just be good.

[ And here's the rustly shift of someone who is definitely lying in hay.]

I never seriously do anything.

[ Of course he does. But let him have his joke. ]

[ombranera]

Mmm...there is that.

[ Bastard Prince of Fereldan and Commander of the few sane Wardens left- and he is sleeping on hay. This will not stand. Zevran looses an intensely disappointed sigh. ]

If you promise not to lick anything or drink anything you find- the rather warm room with a somewhat proper bed is empty at the moment. Someone may as well be using it.

[byblow]

Promise not to lick--you're asking too much, Zevran. You know me better than that. [ Honestly. ] Anyway, I like it here. There are horses and hounds snuffling around all the time. It's a Fereldan lullaby.

[ If you're the kind of Fereldan who didn't have a mother and slept in a stable as a child. ]