"Honestly, I did not figure Stroud for the kind of man to - uhh", Alistair's mind locked up for a second as he tried to find the right words to communicate, delicately, his surprise and disgust.
"To patronize a whorehouse?", Bethany finished her companion's thought as she stood, arms crossed, against one of the support pillars holding the bordello's structure aloft. "I used to live here remember. Not that I ever, ahh, used the whorehouses' services."
"Brothel, would be the better word I'd use", Alistair said and offered the young Mage a crooked smile, to which she looked away from upon seeing.
"Sooo - Raleigh, have you ever been to Kirkwall, other than... today that is?" Bethany asked the short Elven man whom was eyeing one of the working girls who paced this darkened little corner of Hightown.
"I've not left Nevarra until Stroud saved me from my, mmm, 'early retirement', heh. No, joining up with the Order is first time I've ever gotten past the necropolis."
The waifish streetwalker finally met eyes with the leering Elf then scrunched her features at him before sidling up to a helmeted city guard. Dejected, Raleigh slunk over to Bethany, puffed out his chest, and put out his best pick-up vibe.
"And what about you, my little enchantress, you ever left The Marches? I'm sure any Templar would've tripped over their own greaves to personally escort you back to The Circle."
Bethany grimaced at the Rogue's implication, "Uhh... no, not - well, yes I have been outside of the Free Marches. We were... I was born in Ferelden, actually."
"Hmm, so not keen on the muscly armored fellows, huh? What about her over there, fancy that?", Raleigh pointed with his chin at the prostitute whom was most likely whispering naughty offers into the helmet of the stationed guard.
"No, no. Please don't mix me up in your personal - very personal fantasies, thank you."
Alistair stepped forward, "Yes, watch how you spea-".
"He can speak to me as freely as he pleases, Senior Warden", the Mage admonished while defiantly turning to face Alistair.
"I-I can?" the Elf questioned.
"Shut up, Raleigh!" the two arguing humans yelled in unison.
Shot down again, the Elf leaned back against the stone wall and slid down into a dice-thrower's crouch. If he couldn't amuse himself with the fairer sex he'd have to practice his other favorite habit. With a flick of his rather thick wrist three six-sided cubes appeared in his scarred palm. He performed for himself a few fancy dice manipulations making the Halla horn-carved gambling implements dance across his knuckles and pop into the air.
With the heated argument and its growing volume beside him, he felt almost at home there in the open as he faux-plied one of his old trades. His days as a low -to-mid level crony in the employee of one of Nevarra's many but nameless shadowy enterprises had him perform duties as anything from bagman to saboteur to even the occasional retirement "provider". He was nowhere near the levels of the Orlesian Bards or Antivan Crows in the skills of spying or assassinations but he could get the job done if subtlety wasn't necessary.
Raleigh snatched his dice from the ground as Bethany took a step back as she made to draw her stave. It was an empty threat but, from his time in the company of the two Fereldans, the Elf found that the lady Mage knew such a response would cow the older Warden. Whatever had transpired between them had driven a wedge into their relationship, and it entertained the Nevarran to no end to play with the duo's emotions with crude insinuation and untoward behavior. He meant no harm by it, mostly it was a way to relieve boredom between self important Grey Warden business.
With an exaggerated yawn, Raleigh stretched his arms out and let his hand catch the hem of his fellow Warden's lightly armored robe. He playfully lifted it and made as if he was going to peer up at the woman's smallclothes, when a bloodcurdling scream made the lascivious Elf cringe.
"What is - I don't sense it", Bethany cried out while tugging her uniform free.
"Its not 'Spawn, but it doesn't look friendly either", the ex-Templar quipped while drawing his weapons.
The rookie Warden slipped his dice back up his sleeve and slipped free a simple, fire blackened cudgel from his belt. He figured if it wasn't Darkspawn it wasn't worth pulling his shortsword. He let his eyes slip into the direction his companions faced and spied an unusual sight: a horned musclebound creature towered over a felled City Guard and the now cowering prostitute. A corona of blue flame surrounded its hulking form, in his old life he'd have quietly made for one of the many neutral safehouses that dotted Nevarra, but in his current life every so often the Grey Wardens would flex their combat prowess in certain situations to keep up their reputation as a possible recruitment tool.
"I think its a - uhhh - one of those Tall Bosh'tets, maybe?"
Bethany didn't take her eyes off the creature as it menaced the still screaming woman, "Why are you asking me, Alistair? I don't even know what language that even IS."
Raleigh rolled his eyes, "He means Tal-Vashoth. Kossith that have left the Qun. Mercs, basically."
Alistair and Bethany tore their eyes off the scene for a moment to stare at the Elf, who could feel their unsettling uniform gaze upon his person.
"What? I can know things. Now are we going to do something about this or are we going to stand around gawking?"