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"Git yer lazy, good for nothin' arse out of bed and answer the sodding door!" her mother's drunken rant shocks Rainne into wakefulness.
"Why don't you do me and Rica a favor and go drown yourself in the nearest lava flow, you pickled hag?" the young duster bellows in retaliation as she rolls from her lumpy pallet and stretches her weary muscles, "That way, we could actually spend our hard earned money on some food instead of that sodding rotgut you suck down day in and day out?"
"You shouldn't say those things sister," Rica-her stunning and brilliant older sibling-gently chides as she breezes into the room and regards her via the hovel's sole mirror as she adjusts a few wayward strands of hair, "You are better than that."
The rogue brushes her coal colored bangs away from her silver blue eyes and scoffs, "You mean that you are better than that. I'm just another faceless goon of Beraht's. No thanks, I'll leave the proper manners to you."
Rica's aqua taffeta clad shoulders quiver with a wave of revulsion before she is able to suppress the reaction, "Speaking of, he just stopped by. He said that he's found a job for you and Leske. Something about missing lyrium. You should probably hurry, you know how he hates waiting for anything."
"I hate how that nugfucker pushes everyone around," the duster seethes even as she dons her leathers and straps on her trusty daggers, "One day he will get what's coming to him though. I just hope that I'm there when it happens, that way I'll finally get a chance to repay him for what he's done to you...and every other duster."
The hug from her flame haired sibling is swift, but heartfelt, "I completely agree, but until that day comes-or I find myself a wealthy patron-we have to keep our heads down, our hopes up, and play nice with Beraht."
After her sister relinquishes her surprisingly strong hold on her, Rainne slumps out of their shared bedchamber and passed their inebriated mother.
"I should have fed you to the deepstalkers when you were born, you worthless brat!" the bitter woman wails as her youngest child walks by.
"Maybe that's what I ought to do to you so I could finally get some peace and quiet around this dump!" she screams over her shoulder before stepping outside and slamming the door behind her.
A swarthy dwarf with hair plaited into short black braids nudges her after she closes her eyes and takes a dozen or so deep breaths to calm herself. "Your mum sure started early today. Did she rob a drunk client or something?"
Rainne opens her eyes with an annoyed roll and shrugs, "Or something. She and a few of the other washed up whores have taken up snorting crushed lyrium with a couple of clients who enjoy orgies and whatnot. That crap keeps her crazy as a rabid bronto for days every time."
"If they start eating each others faces for lunch, I'm exiling myself to the Deep Roads," Leske quips, ignoring the odd look a beggar aims his way, "Anyways, we have bigger problems than some face eating whores. The boss thinks some surfacer named Oskias is making deals topside and is refusing to share the wealth. Wants us to have a talk with him."
"I'm not going to kill some guy because he's not bowing down to Beraht," his friend growls as they slip through a hole in the wall that separates Dust Town from the rest of the city, "Then again I might just say sod it and ask him to take me and Rica to the surface with him."
Her fellow rogue gapes at her, a scandalous expression writ across his features, "And leave Orzammar behind? Me?"
Oblivious to the undertone coloring his words, the female duster gives a vehement nod, "Anything up there has to be better than this dung heap. You could come to, be my sister's bodyguard or something."
"And take the chance of falling into the sky? No thanks," he points a thick finger at the door to Tapster's Tavern, "Boss said that Oskias has been hiding out in there. Time to get your game face on."
To Rainne's utter dismay, Oskias turns out to be more of a sniveling coward rather than the dashing lyirum smuggler she'd envisioned, considering how the guy had braved the surface world. So much of a coward in fact that not only did he refuse to escort the other dwarves to the surface, he happily handed over two large nuggets of lyrium before vowing to never to return to Orzammar again and running off.
Utterly spineless.
The only upside to things is that by the end of the day, she and Leske are both fifteen silvers wealthier and still have a chunk of lyrium to placate Beraht with.
Such is a day in the life of a duster.