I hear endless noise and movement, even though we're outside the gates. Old Denny Rem, huh? Definitely smells like it has the most people. The guardsman gives us another look, now that we're at the front of the line.
"… Name?" he asks, still looking surprised.
"I am Sten, of the Beresaad" Qunie bluntly replies, barely looking at the man.
The man beside the gate writes something in his ledger, before stopping. "Your purpose in Denerim, Sten of the Bear… reside?"
"Beresaad. I seek passage back to Par Vollen."
The writer and guardsman glance at each other, before someone behind us voices up. "Get the big oaf moving! I've been waiting since dawn!"
"… Right." Frowning, the guardsman motions for Qunie to wait. "And is this your hound?"
Qunie sighs, and shakes his head. "It's been following me since the last town. Are all your animals so impossible to chase off?"
Chuckling, the men wave us past. "Sounds like you're stuck with 'im… imprinting, and all that. You'll figure it out… lucky bastard. Wish I had a Mabari." Of course you do. It's only natural.
We continue into the city proper. As both of us sniff at the overwhelming street smells, Qunie takes a map from his pocket. "Let us hope the merchant's directions are accurate."
I'm sure Shoe's father knows how to find his own house… unless you'd rather stay at this Bear Reside of yours.
"It begins from the local Chantry… we shall have to locate their building."
That's easy, just listen for the Fussy Women drone on and on about their Blessid and Draste gods. … I think I can hear them, now. This way!
We round a corner, and there they are. Babbling as always. "She shall know no fear of death, for the Maker shall be her bacon and her shield, her foundation and her-" A younger Fussy Woman interrupts the speaker, quite rudely indeed. Excuse you, lady! She's telling us all the sacred text of bacon!
"There's no veal in the Chant! … You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" Nooooo…. She's talking by accident! What a stupid question – no wonder you don't appreciate bacon's spiritual value!
I turn, hearing Qunie muttering as he follows the directions. Fine, I'm coming… but I'll be back later. I wish to hear more of your wisdom, Bacon Priestess.
Ugh… there's even more people here! 'Fine Dwarven craft'… we get it. Stop yelling that at everyone! Oh, shit. Qunie, let's… just go around this side of the square.
"… Trouble?" he whispers.
I'd just… rather not go near her! Habren the Dreaded, they call her in the South Reach kennels… she goes through puppies like normal people go through shoes. Some of the stories, they'd make your fur moult! … Well, you don't have any… but you get the drift.
I glance about, to see if she's gone. She's still there, caterwauling at her servant… hold on, wait. Is that Elf girl her servant, too? The second one walks away… I guess not. There was plenty of walking space, so I don't know why she slowed down to pass them. The girl gives us a brief glance… and turns back around in confusion for a second look. Don't mind us, lass… just a Mabari taking his 'Qunari' for a walk.
"Are you… looking for something?" she asks, noticing Qunie's map. "Maybe I can help?"
Please do – I remember coming here, once… but we were all in the carriage, so I didn't bother navigating.
"That would be appreciated" Qunie sighs.
Nodding, she quickly reads the directions. "Past the… okay, hang on. You want Gin Alley, yeah?"
"That was where he said."
"Well, he's given you the long way. C'mon, I can get you there much quicker!"
Qunie squints down at her. "Without walking us into an ambush?"
"Pfft, please! The gangs don't work this close to the gates… not now, with the new Arl having half of them in his pocket. That's what Slim says, at least." She looks at both of us again. "Besides, you're a Qunari and a war-mutt, ain't ya? Who the hell's going to mess with you two?!"
"… Very well. I'll kill you first, if need be."
"Yeah, yeah, Qunari temper and all that. I get it" she waves, leading us towards a side-street. "… Do all of you look like that?"
Hornless? Bored? … Like rotting apples flew up his nose, and he can't stop scrunching his nose at them?
"I don't know… do you excel at poverty, simply for being an Elf?"
"Not even! Pardon my butt for asking a question…"
… I like this girl. Can we keep her?
"See? Gin Alley, like I told you. Don't get too grateful, or nothing."
Qunie nods, and offers her a coin. "I didn't expect anyone in this city to keep their word… so I thank you."
"Well… great. You want-" she glances at the map, before handing it back. "Third on the left side… oh." With a glance at the house in question, she continues. "Those Dwarves, the ones with the odd kid? No offense to him, he's polite and all… he's just odd."
"Nobody could dispute that" Qunie shrugs. The girl shrugs as well, and wanders off. Qunie knocks on the door, with no response. And nobody's home… we'll have to wait for Old Dwarf to come let us in. I move over as he sits down to wait, and… hang on. Where's his cookie-bag? It was hanging off… Elf-Girl!
And her scent leads… around this corner. There you are!
She looks up, tossing the bag from hand to hand. "… He dropped it?"
You know what… let's pretend he did. We can divvy the bag between the two of us. You're skinnier, so you won't eat as much as him – that's more for me!
"Not going to call for him? … All right then, let's see what a Qunari carries." She opens the bag, with a smile. Which drops as she looks inside. "Cookies? … Aw, piss! Stupid, shitty cookies. What are the odds?!"
You… don't like cookies? How come you don't like cookies?
She tosses the bag aside. "… You have 'em! Or take it back to the Qunari, whatever. At least that screechy bitch in the market had something." Producing a shiny tiara, she slips it onto her head. "I'm Lady MacPompous! Bring me a fresh set of pants, I seem to have soiled mineself!" Mid-laugh, she flinches from her movement … Ow, stupid thing! The edges keep jabbing me. Should have known only an idiot would wear something like this."
I guess that's why Mistress never wore the ones she had in her big shiny cabinet-box... hey, what do you think you're doing?!
"Here, your head looks round enough… I reckon, if I sit it just there." Elf-Girl lifts her hands away, giggling. "Dog jewellery! … Daft. What's it say about that posh freak, that her head's the shape of a mutt's?"
I don't know what you were complaining about, it's not poking me at all… does it match with my fur?
"Max? … I'm sure he went down there" I hear Mistress call, further up the main alley.
Hey, Mistress is here! Come on in… we've got dress-ups and cookies!
"Who's that?" Elf-Girl asks, sitting up. "… She a woman Qunari? Always wondered what they look like."
No, it's Mistress – my other favourite person. She was on the list before you. I think you'd like her.
"There you… are. Nice tiara, Max" she says, noticing us. "Hello."
"Hi there… I was just seeing if it would fit 'im. Because I found that thing already here. Someone else must have pinched and dropped it." Straightening up further, Elf-Girl looks at me. "… Is he yours? He was following a Qunari around, earlier."
"He tends to wander…" Mistress replies, looking carefully at my new friend. "… Come on, Max. We've got things to do."
Everything alright, Mistress? … Well, I hope to see you around later, New Friend. She points at the cookie bag. "Don't forget them… the big guy dropped that bag, and we retrieved it" she adds, turning to Mistress. "… Have we met, before?"
Mistress shakes her head. "I don't think so… unless you're in the fish trade?"
"The what? No."
"Hmm. Maybe you met one of my sisters, when they came here for business… the Bentons, out of Higheverport?"
"Thought you sounded northern… don't think I know any Bentons."
"Hmm… guess I've just got that kind of face" Mistress shrugs. "Nina."
"Sera" New Friend responds, getting up. "Well, it's been fun talking to ya, Dog… but I've got things to do." She takes the tiara off my head. "… Useless, but pretty. Bet I can get something for it."
I'm afraid we must be off, too… but I'll keep an eye out for you. Hopefully we meet again before we go.
As we leave, Mistress quickly glances back. "Well, she's not in a hurry to find a guard… I guess she didn't recognise me. Of all the people you had to cozy up with, Max."
Huh? Did you know New Friend already? … And why don't you think we can trust her?!
"Your friend there, I met her two years or so back… I'm sure that's the girl Lady Taraline took in. Even brought her to a few of the salons that summer. Went down splendidly, from the gossip afterwards. 'The poor old dear's mind is going, taking in that elf to play mother' and so on…"
Ah, the clucking of the hens. New Friend is great, so they can shut up! Benton, huh?! Let me guess… 'Benton mayhem'? Sounds like a joke Furgus name. Ah, whatever. Let's go.
We go into the Dwarves' house, where everyone's crowded around a table. Qunie, here's your cookies. "… So you tried to take them" he mutters, glaring at me.
… Not even! Pardon my Mabari butt for bringing them back!
"Why would he give it back to you, if he took it?" Ally asks, receiving another glare in response. "… Just asking."
"As important as that bag might be" Mistress interjects, "let's focus on this. Bodahn?"
"I strolled past the house earlier, Warden. It's rather big, so they could have a few fighters hidden in the back-rooms. But I didn't see anyone on watch outside."
"How careful were you? You may have been noticed… I should have been the one."
Oh yes, a big fat cookie-hoarder is much less obvious!
"Since that party we dealt with hasn't returned, they'll be prepared anyway, Sten" Mistress tells him. "I'm guessing they know what we all look like… but they wouldn't have paid much mind to a local Dwarf."
"Quite right…" Old Dwarf nods. "I was simply delivering a letter of condolence to that poor woman, who lived in the same street."
See? People in Denny Rem would be seeing the same thing happening every day, so they wouldn't care… huh. That's a depressing thought.
"The wagon's in the carriage-house" Ally comments. "Should we retrieve our gear off it now? … When are we doing this?"
"In the morning" Mistress says. "With any luck, the commotion of the market setting up will mask a fight. Plus we could hide in the crowd, going there and back." She drops a coin-bag on the table. "Now, we need to decide who's renting a room and who's sleeping on the wagon tonight. We can't all block up Bodahn's house."
"Well, it's only fair to let the ladies pick first" Ally says. While Qunie glares at him again, Biddy and Chirpy both agree.
"Right – you three go. Al, we'll take the wagon" Mistress waves. "Meet back here nice and early, and we'll deal with that house."
"Nothing to do now, but wait" Ally comments, as Qunie and Biddy go off to find inns. Nice, warm, food-having inns… with soft beds. Bastards. "… Do you think, maybe, we could-"
"I was waiting for you to ask" Mistress grins. "Got that address handy?"
"Right here" he holds up some paper.
"Let's go find this sister of yours, then" Chirpy beams, as the four of us get up.
"Back here again, Dog?" a familiar voice asks. Hey, New Friend! What are you doing here?
She drops down on a box outside the building, where the others went inside. "You lot might not want to wander about in the evenings. Less crowds mean you might get spotted."
… I'm not sure what you mean. I'm just a humble stray, and the others are equally non-interesting. Yes.
"Oh, I don't give two shits about those posters, but others might. I knew I recognised that woman, from them. Lord Regent Man's just blaming away his own piss-up failure, but he's paying well enough for people to not care." New Friend glances about, still keeping her voice low. "Treasonous plot to kill the King… please. If the Wardens were smart enough to con the bloody King and everyone else into a trap, they'd be smart enough not to get themselves killed in it. Even the nobles realise that… that's why the only one on his side is that bloody new Arl. All sorts of rumours, about that man. Sure, he's not all rapey like the last one, but still. Someone needs to sew razors into his breeches… too bad he probably has his own household washers. I bet Goldie here would let me put itchy stuff in a bastard's pants." She looks at the door. "… Are your lot getting washing done? Goldie's alright, not like Gnatty Natty… I bet those kids drive her mad, but."
… Who's rapey? I'm lost, now.
"… Ha, I knew that 'smart' business was bollocks! You don't understand people talk at all, do you?"
Yes! You just talk way too quick… and jump about mid-conversation.
"Genius dogs… yeah, right" she scoffs.
If you're going to be like that, forget it! Your name is Rude Girl, now!
"Huh, you got enough of that to make you sulk, didya? That's a start…" she rubs my head. "Of course, you could say I'm the dumb one for talking to an animal."
Not dumb… just a bit rude. But I forgive you.
This 'Goldie' door opens with a loud smack, and Mistress comes storming out with her murder-face on. Ally and Chirpy follow her out, just looking depressed. "Well, that don't look good… see you around, Dog" Rude Friend whispers, slipping back around the corner.
… Mistress?
She shoots a look at the house again, before shaking away her expression. "Al…"
"… That's what I've been wondering about, all my life?" he murmurs to himself. "I guess… well, I hoped she'd accept me, without question. I… I'm just an idiot for that, apparently."
"No you're not!" Chirpy croaks, hugging him from behind.
"Forget her" Mistress frowns. "The bitch only cares about her own misery… you don't need that. She'd be a shitty sister, anyway. Only out for herself… there's enough people like that, you don't need another one."
"Yeah… I guess everybody is that way, in the end" he sighs. "Let's just go…"
"… Can you get him back to the house?" Mistress asks Chirpy. "I'll get us some supplies."
"Of course" she replies, leading Ally away.
"Let's find a tavern, Max… boy's gonna need a stiff bottle or two, after that."
That big building is one, by the smell. Oh no… Mistress, wait! That jerk in the armour's staring at us!
"… I recognise you!" Aw, crap. "From Ostagar. You're that Grey Warden apprentice!"
"Do I look like a Grey Warden?" Mistress hisses. "I don't even have a sword." Lucky for you, jerk. She'd carve you up, the mood she's in!
He looks closer. "No, I'm sure y-"
"I'm sure that you're drunk, idiot. Go home!"
"I… yes. Forgive me, my lady – perhaps the drink has affected me." We watch him stagger off. Good call, Mistress.
I'm not sure how Habren manages to comfortably carry a tiara in her pocket, in Origins... but it's not the strangest thing you can pickpocket. I got a shield off Bhelen's stooge, once. Surprise extended cameo - I thought about a quick Sera reference, and then realised Max would instantly fall in love with someone on his own mental wave-length, like she seems to be. 'So many neat people in Denerim, so little time' for a curious Mabari... Sister Theohild had to be acknowledged, as a fellow bacon-obsessive.
As ever, thanks to everyone reading, fav'ing and so on. Melysande for her review. BioWare for creating the fun toys to play with.