milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Everyone's heard this one before: an elf walks into a bar...

It is a joke with, as they say, very little class and as such does not bear repeating. He steps in, dusts off his armor, looks around, and shrugs.

Ferelden is a very strange country indeed. But, this is of little concern to him. The room is ripe for conversation, pockets ripe for picking, and drinks ripe for consuming. Where is the harm in any of these things? It makes for a thirsty day's work, almost getting killed over and over, and even assassins (and especially those sworn to serve their former enemies) deserve their fun.

It might take a moment or two before he appreciates that this is not, in fact, the tavern he was expecting.

[OOC: Rebooted character, different player. If you have questions, see this post.]

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"They do that in Megaton too," Ellen says, "which is where I live these days. It's not the best meat, but if you can't get better there's really nothing wrong with it as long as it's freshly killed, you know?"

Mirelurk is infinitely better. Iguana and squirrel fall somewhere in between. Yao guai meat's tough but not so bad if you pound it properly before roasting it; it's all down to preparation.

"Anyway, you don't have to order from them, just remember they work here and they're not actually vermin. If there's a person behind the bar, it means the bar's gone idle for a few hours, so talk to the bartender instead."

So many town names to learn. And he thought it was bad in Antiva. Megaton it is, or so she says.

"I must thank you, my well-informed friend. You have the measure of this place and are under no obligation to share your insights with me, and yet you do. Tell me, is there something I might do for you in turn?"

Very much, he believes in the power of all things being equal, although in his experience they rarely are.

"Nothing's coming to mind at the moment," says Ellen, who understands the need to pay a perceived debt. "I do this because when I first came here, other people who found this place did the same for me and helped me get used to how strange it was. If you find yourself coming here again, and run into someone else who's new and unaccustomed to the place, you can introduce them to what you know of the place as a favor to me."

"That much I can do, my friend." He uses the term lightly, but he also uses it with sincerity. She has been most helpful, and her dog has been well-behaved and so, he has no complaints. "But I do have a question, if I may: you speak of this as a place people return to often. Is there an expectation that I will find my way back here, perhaps more frequently than I intend?"

He already knows the place bears the stench of magic, however pleasant that might be. Still, it does not mean he has to trust it.

"It's not uncommon for people to walk in here by mistake," Ellen says. "If you carry something from the place with you- a napkin or something with the bar's name on it, for example- and concentrate on coming here on purpose every so often, it's much less likely to grab you by accident. at least, it's always seemed that way to me."

Now that is perhaps the most fascinating piece of information he's received all evening.

"Luckily for me, I have room in my pack for such an item." And room in his ridiculously awesome brain for that level of focus, but he need not brag about such a thing. "And if I do what you say -- take such an item, I assume hold it and focus on this place -- I will simply... find myself here?" That is entirely preposterous. Just the sort of detail he likes to know.

"And were that to be the case, would I find you here again as well?"

One can always hope, can they not?

"It mostly seems to work if you think about the place while opening a gate or walking through a door," Ellen says. "And I might be here, or not. I come in here when I can, but I've got a lot of duties back home- this place just makes them a little easier to pursue sometimes."

Thinking about a place is something he is certainly well-equipped to do. He thinks about his home in Antiva City all the time, as well as the likelihood that he has seen it for the last time. He won't miss the corrupt politicians or the stench of fish chowder, but he will miss the leather factory and the whores.

Such is life.

"Then I will hope to see you again the next time. You and your friend." He would never be so remiss as to neglect such a handsome dog.

"Perhaps I should not keep you from your duties?" Perhaps he would love to do just that, but he is not so bold as to foist himself on everyone walking by, and the day has already held a great deal of change for him. At least, he thinks, he is still alive. He hadn't expected that to be the case when he awoke this morning.

"If you like," says Ellen. "I was just looking after my things. Come and find me next time, if you want- if I'm here and haven't got this or one of my other weapons out on the table, I'm probably available."

"Other weapons?" So many questions, so little time. "Perhaps one day we can sit down together and compare weapons of choice."

There are so many varieties of daggers in the world. That alone could eat up an entire evening and leave nothing to spare. It might not be his preferred way of passing time, but it would definitely be interesting.

"That would be interesting," Ellen says. "Sure, I'd like that. Although I have a feeling our areas of experience are probably really different- but that's what learning is about, isn't it?"

"Precisely, my friend." He tips his brandy glass to her in solidarity, in understanding. In thanks as well, although he rarely puts thanks into words more than once during the course of a conversation. No, no: he prefers to express gratitude in other ways, but there is the small matter of the dog and the curious blade, and while he has never subscribed to the concept that discretion is the better part of valor, he knows its use.

"There is much at this place to explore. You have provided me with an excellent introduction." There are some things, though, that a person -- human or elven or even dwarven -- must do for himself, and acquainting himself with the layout, the surroundings, these are things he has yet to do. With a bow, he gives a final pat to Dogmeat and when he stands, he nods to his companion.

"Until we meet again."

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