Kirkwall, the city of chains, the once crown jewel of the Tevinter Imperium's slave trade known as Emerius, the former symbol of the elven uprising against their Magister oppressors, but regardless of the numerous names the city may have had the most important one that it is currently dawning is that of the starting place of a yet another group of would be adventures quest for fame and glory. The city was alive with the hustle and bustle that always spread through out of it during the day. The noble lords and ladies of Hightown basked in the sun and traded gossip about the latest scandals and affairs. The merchants in Lowtown beckoned passersby to browse their wares while pickpockets preyed upon the coin purses of the oblivious. While the unfortunate souls that called Darktown home would be half way through their days of begging and being extorted by petty criminals and unjust employers alike. Despite how dazzling or appalling some of these sights may have been anyone who had been in Kirkwall long enough would know that these are common events that might as well be as old as the city itself. If one wanted to find a truly interesting sight they would not have to look any further than the ever so luxurious establishment of The Blooming Rose, or better known as the whorehouse of Hightown.

"Another round Lusine!!" A booming voice full of cheer rang from the head table that sat in the middle of the brothel floor. A rather annoyed looking snowy haired woman gave a roll of her eyes before complying with the voice's order and retrieving a tray of freshly poured mugs of what the house had on tap and hoisting it to the table, spurring quite the hearty cheer from the same voice. The owner of the voice filled with such mirth was quite the sight, a towering individual whos size matched the volume of his voice and his appearance matched its lively tone. He was one of what the Fereldens would deem a oxmen, if his horns didn't give that away, but the air that flowed off this man was anything but that the usual Qunari would give, by the Divins knickers this one was actually grinning. His attire was also quite the marvel, he dawned what looked akin to something one would catch a bandit wearing but what was even more eye catching was the detailed markings that were painted all over his body. Without a doubt he was attracting quite the slew of attention, especially from quite the grouping of young maidens, though they may have been more interested in his coin seeing their place of employment. Indeed this scene was quite the sight and served as the perfect example of how this man lived his life, full of scandals and reckless indigents, but there was no better way to describe Vat-Katari.

Despite what many thought he was setting up shack in a whorehouse for Vat-Katari was there for a much more serious reason, though he would be a liar if he said he didn't partake in some of the business's... services. Indeed he was there for more personal matters for this loud mouthed oxman was actually what many would consider a no good pirate, though he preferred calling himself a sea faring adventurer, who was on the look out for his new crew. For the past few weeks since he had been staying in Kirkwall Vat-Katari had been putting out the word that there was a new captain in town who was looking for anyone that was able body, knew how to sail, and weren't complete nug shite for brains. He also made it known anyone who was interested should meet him in the Blooming Rose so here he was, awaiting those who would eventually make up his new crew. The way Vat-Katari he might as well enjoy himself as he waited, polishing off his glass and turning back to the white haired woman. "Another round!"

"I despise Kirkwall."

"Oh come now, Evelyn, you haven't even been here for an hour. Give the city a chance."

"Adrianne, how many piles of shit have you stepped in since I arrived?"

The lack of a response prompted a grin from the older Orlesian. Evelyn knew the younger woman liked the city no more than herself, but Adrianne had always been more tactful with her words. The two had met a decade prior in Denerim; it was the classic story of bitter rivals settling their differences and discovering a long-lasting bond. Being that Evelyn was about twenty years her senior, Adrianne took to Evelyn much as a student would a mentor. In recent years, Adrianne found herself spending more and more time in Kirkwall, keeping the two apart until Evelyn's path brought her to the City of Chains.

"At least I'm not wearing anything nice. I had to part with all my clothes from Orlais when I left Denerim," Evelyn lamented, glancing down at the simple leather armor she was wearing over a deep green cloak. "Where the hell is this Blooming Rose, anyways? All these buildings are starting to look the same." Everything was so plain and colorless in Ferelden, though Evelyn had to admit, the people were more interesting. Spending forty years in a country built on facades and deceit wore thin quickly, and the culture of Ferelden, as initially off-putting Evelyn found it, was ultimately intriguing.

"We're just about here. You can see the sign from here." Adrianne pointed in the distance, and there it was: the all too yonic insignia of the Blooming Rose. Evelyn was simultaneously amused and disappointed.

"Will you be coming in with me? Or do we part ways here?"

"This will have to be it, I'm afraid. I do have my own business to attend to, you know," Adrianne responded with a smirk. What it was that Adrianne was doing these days was far beyond Evelyn's knowledge, but knowing that her young friend was successful in Kirkwall warmed her heart.

"Of course. It was good to see you, Adrianne." The two shared a hug before Adrianne disappeared into the Kirkwall crowd.

As Evelyn pushed open the door to the Blooming Rose, she was met with no less than three well-endowed women and chants of "Another round!" being shared in the main room. At the center of it all was a massive Tal-Vashoth, relishing in the seemingly endless supply of drinks. Evelyn pressed her way through the Blooming Rose, politely rejecting the offers of its employees as they came.

"Excuse me!" Evelyn shouted as she found herself in front of her presumptive captain. "I believe you have a job opening available, and I would like to make my services available. My name is Evelyn, of Orlais."

"And don't come back unless you want your head up your ass, you little nugshit!" Vincent bellowed over the sudden still air. He glanced at the cut on his hand and grunted. "Damn thieves... got no honor." He looked at everyone and fell silent, those furrowed brows and twisted nose betraying the scowl beneath that thick red bush of a beard. "How can you trust a thief who can't thrust straight?" he said before smiling as the door slammed and chattering filled the tavern once more.

"Nug, eh?" said Leoric. "Didn't take you for the adventuring type."

"I met a share of dwarves in my travels, most of which involved protecting lyrium traders," Vincent replied. He rubbed his shoulder. "Wish lyrium could heal a few bones."

Rili finished his mug of water. "What made you settle?" he said. Vincent reached for a dry rag on the countertop and pressed it against his hand. "A few nugs of my own," he replied. "I figured I'll be no good to them dead, or rotting away in some dungeon. Besides, I made enough coin to open my own little tavern, as you can see."

"And what about you?" Leoric filled his mug with ale. "You're still young and full of bad choices waiting to happen... I suspect you have a few you'd like to share." He leaned closer and grinned. "Some windows you had to leap from? Some guards you have to evade? Some ale you decided was best in your belly?"

"Ale? I don't drink ale. I try to avoid such substances."

"You know what we Fereldans call a man who doesn't drink ale?"

"Fereldan?" Leoric remarked. "You were born here."

"Piss off. My grandparents were Fereldan... so, you know what we Fereldans call a man who doesn't drink ale?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Not fit to rule."

"And here I was thinking Orlesian."

"There's a difference?" said Leoric.

"Could be worse," Vincent responded. "Could be Qunari, blasted creatures."

Rili narrowed his eyes. Qunari. It would seem they were destined to intertwine, one way or another. "That reminds me," he said, "I need to follow up on that offer. A Qunari has been looking to put together a crew, ship and all."

Leoric pushed his mug forward. "This is why we shouldn't let sober people have the ideas. Have some of my ale. Working under a Qunari... what sort of madness has taken you?" Rili gave a dismissive wave. "I'm being serious," he replied. "There is always need of a good crew. Packages need delivering, people need transporting. Always need for that."

"Why do you want to sail with one of them? What if you are dragged back to their lands or something?" said Vincent. "You have to be jesting."

"Because the coin could be good." He sighed and looked down at the scroll. "I could stay here, or I could go back to... I could go back home, to Rivain. Either way, I could have enough to put a roof over my head."

"But how do you know this Qunari won't try to force you into... into... into whatever they call it."

"Because he wouldn't ask for an appearance at the Blooming Rose."

Rannon strapped on his sheathed sword to his hip, and patted his chest plate. With his brown hair, and hard boiled leather over his metal armor, he gave an imposing sight. Tall and strong, with his youthful look and fierce scars, Rannon was a Ferelden man through and through. "Well, let's go." he said to no one in particular. Or so it seemed, for just behind him, a massive Mabari Warhound picked himself up and barked happily. "Who knows, maybe you'll meet a girl dog." he assured his friend.

The soldier lead his truest friend Gideon out of their small apartment, not bothering to keep him on a leash. The City of Sails was bustling, with people of all different races walking about under the shining sun and the summer heat. He took in a deep breath, Gideon already panting behind him. After a moment to get his bearings, they headed off towards the Blooming Rose, making their way into Hightown.

Rannon had to admit he was very unused to such a place. He was a rough and ready infantryman, with the marks to prove it. His best friend was the kind of guy to rub his ass on the carpet if he'd eaten something wrong the day previous. This was a place for haughty lords and ladies to spend their wealth without thought of repercussion. As soon as he entered this side of town, he heard melodic laughter and the high accents of wealthy people pouring out of open windows. The Blooming Rose was up the street, and they stepped in.
Like a sentinel, Rannon's eyes immediately fell upon his new Employer, recognizing the description of he who called him here. There seemed to be a red haired lass speaking to him just now. Gideon panted audibly, taking in all the smells of the food and scents of the people around them.

Rannon was just about to step over to them when he halted in his tracks, his eyes now drinking in the well endowed women surrounding them. Gideon gave a grunt, and Rannon glanced at his companion. "Yeah yeah, I'm not getting back into that shit." he promised his friend, and stepped forward, hand on his sword hilt out of habit. He decided to step to the side of them, showing he was here for the summons, but he wasn't going to interrupt either.

Sliding three bits across the dirty bar counter and receiving some piss-poor ale in return, Feri regarded the murky liquid for a moment before downing it in one go. It tasted like shit, but it got people drunk - surely that was the only reason people came to the Hanged Man?
"At least I'll never have to drink this swill again - pirates deal more in shit-tasting rum than shit-tasting beer." Thought with a somewhat sardonic smile, Feri left her mug on the top and slid from her chair, leaving the inn for what would hopefully be the last time. She had no plans to revisit Kirkwall - or, at the very least, not for a prolonged stay, anyway.

"And now onto the whorehouse. What better place to pick up a crew?" Feri muttered under her breath as she headed towards Hightown, tightening the sash around her waist as it came undone.

She'd heard plenty of rumours on the street in the past few days about someone looking for a crew, but at first, she'd ignored such stories. Half the time she did pick up on rumours like that, it turned out to be some piss-poor sailor boy who thought he could move up in the world by owning a cutlass. But as more tales surfaced, that of a Qunari Captain, with a decent boat and a decent mind for leading, her interest became piqued. Even moreso when she found out the place of hiring - the Blooming Rose. From what she'd seen of the Qunari squatting in the docks, they be more likely to raze the place to the ground than put one horn inside a whorehouse. But apparently, this one didn't follow the rest of his herd. And that was intriguing enough for Ferirev to go and take a look.

Upon entering the establishment, it didn't take long for her to find the Qunari - despite all the distractions around her, the guy really stood out. She could tell even from where he was sat he was one tall bastard - she'd probably reach just above his waist, if she was lucky. Feri walked forwards, halting beside a man who was obviously waiting for the Qunari's attention. She regarded him with a shrewd, sideways look, taking in his scars and the steely look in his eye - he seemed both younger and older than herself, in some ways.

And then she saw the dog.

Her first, natural reaction was that of happiness; she loved dogs. Partly because she'd never seen many in her life, especially not a Mabari war hound like this one. And then logic kicked in, and she looked back up to the man, one eyebrow cocked quizzically.

"A brave man, taking a war hound on a pirate ship. I've heard bad things about people who cooped up their Mabari's for too long." Feri said this with just a hint of a wry smile, but certainly not a full one. Didn't want to give the impression she was the cheerful sort of person, after all.

Naveen had paid a lot of coin to get a nice room with a nice man as far away from the main hall in the Blooming Rose. He had gained that coin fair and square by killing bandits and doing a few odd jobs for odd people. After having an excellent night with the man and drinking decent tasting ale, he'd expect to wake up with a minor hangover. He had planned to go out and get paid for the jobs he had done a few days before for some wealthy pissy noble. Instead, he woke up that morning laughter and shouting coming from down the hall and the man next to him gone. So much for morning cuddling and lazy lovemaking, now he would have to take care of himself.

After finishing his business, the elf got up from the bed and washed his face and combed his hair thoroughly before getting dressed. He usually wore armor during the day. Kirkwall wasn't the safest place during the night or the day. Even Hightown had a problem with thieves. He liked showing off his armor and the large war hammer strapped to his back. It usually did the job on keeping unwanted people astray.

"Why would they let some blasted shit eating patron be so loud at this time?" Naveen was sure that it wasn't morning, but he didn't care. He liked waking up to quietness and stillness. Being irritated made him break out sometimes, and he'd rather avoid that. He hadn't been able to buy any lotions for his face yet.

After gathering his belongings and strapping his war hammer on his back, he left the room and headed downstairs. The sight in front of him was something like out of a dream. He'd seen one of those massive people with horns and weird colored skin before. They ended up close and personal with swords clinking against each other. Naveen was surprised he had even won against someone as big as that. Their large form did slow them down. Naveen had painted an image of them as humorless warriors. What he was witnessing right now was the complete opposite of what he had thought. The people around him seemed to be having fun, or at least pretending. The man probably had the money to be as loud as he wanted and drink as much as he wanted. He almost wanted to join.

"I heard he's a captain." Naveen overheard some men talking behind him. "Said he was looking for a crew." The elf arched a perfect blond eyebrow and examined the so-called "captain". He wouldn't mind joining. He wanted out of Kirkwall one way or another, and he had made the mistake of wasting some of his coin last night.

In the end, Naveen decided to stay back and put up with the loudness of the whole place. He noticed a few people already waiting to talk to him. The elf joined them but stayed back to observe them and the captain.

In the red rose in, a door opened and out came a rather fat nug waddling as fast as it's hand-feet could take it down the hall followed by an amazed dwarf sticking her head out from the archway of the darkened room. "Wow, we always make jokes, I never thought someone would actually do it!" She looked back to the one taller than any tevinter lacing up this leather leggings. Well that was fun, what now?"

"...Work. Where is the other Qun?"

The maiden of the mountain canted her head to the side with mock confusion. "You are the only one of you here." she paused dramatically before brightening up as if just struck by an idea. "OH! You mean the Qunari in the blooming rose."

The Qun looked about as he raised his hands in exasperation. "This IS The Blooming Rose." She crossed her arms with a wry smile and cocked her hip as she rested against the doorjam. "Nope, this is The Red Rose of lowtown, The Blooming Rose is in Hightown and The Black Rose is in Darktown.

Vash rose to his full frightening height as he groaned in frustration and started to stomp out the door when a waist high hand grabbed him by his moneypouch. "Here now, ten silver for what you've done." His halted frustration turned to confusion and back to anger. "I already paid." She shook her head as she clucked her tongue. "Half upfront, half in the morning. And if you don't like that answer then it's ten for telling you where to go.

Anger gave to resignation as he put five silver in her palm, but closed his hand over hers like a fist until one of their knuckles started popping. "You're no nug." And with that he grabbed his bag to take off from lowtown.
***
Some hour or so later in came the most unhappy man to ever enter a whorehouse as he marched his way yo to the man declaring free drinks for all, he grabbed a bottle of west hill brandy and took a pull as he stalked up the steps to lean up against a wall and wait While both the same species, they were of entirely different builds. Vash had a worker and archers build, he dealt in repetitive motions and thus developed the muscles that come with it only in certain places. The other across the way seemed to have a warriors build, holistically large as he has had to bend and swing in every direction so every muscle is strengthened and enlarged.

He didn't introduce himself yet, for now he watched and waited. Sucking on his tongue to make his mouth well and wet before taking another pull on the brandy with closed lips as he swallowed his own spit. He still felt the burn of brandy on his lips and would lick the wetness away while he observed.

His toned arms crossed across his chest, Rannon let out a breath as he waited. The scent of alcohol filled his nostrils, and he felt Gideon make an odd 'weeeooorgh' sound below him, shifting and leaning against the soldier's leg. "A brave man, taking a war hound on a pirate ship. I've heard bad things about people who cooped up their Mabari's for too long." he heard from his right. He blinked, and glanced over that way, before looking down at a rather short but attractive woman. He wasn't sure if she was a Dwarf or not, and it'd be best not to ask. He could tell just by how she stood that she wasn't one to trifle with, which was a trait he could respect.
He was the same.

"Giddy gets kind of restless, I'll admit." he told her, his iron eyes glancing behind both of them to the Elf and hulking mannish figure standing in line. He took it all in stride. He'd had to deal with worse things than odd companions before, if they too were signing up for this venture as well. "But," he continued, his gaze falling on Feri again. "He knows I'll kick his ass if he gets too riled up."

Gideon gave a snort, and nuzzled Rannon's leg to get his attention. "What?" the man asked him. Gideon sat down, large enough to be almost as tall as Feri. Gideon tilted his head and barked, drawing the attention of a few patrons across the Tavern.

"Hey I was kidding. We're in this together." Rannon chuckled. Gideon gave a pleased yelp, and his stubbed tail began to wag. Rannon gave his truest friend a grin, before nodding towards Feri. "Gideon, say hi."
The Mabari paused for a moment, and then tilted his body a bit closer to Feri, his ears perked up as he sniffed her shoulder.

Kirkwall, the City of Chains, the biggest shithole Mikal has ever laid is eyes on in his 33 years of living, and he has seen dust town in all it's shit covered glory. At least Kirkwall has less drunks walking around since all the damned spikes everywhere would kill any person who wanders the stupidly complex layout of the city, Kirkwall's streets made a forest look organized and at least in a forest you're least likely to step on human shit which Kirkwall has unreasonable amount of in the back streets.

Mikal was minding his own business walking to the Blooming Rose where supposedly a Qunari was looking for a crew to make his own, and Mikal wanted nothing more then to leave the shit covered hole that was Kirkwall, it was nice not being noticed by the overly enthusiastic because of his Dwarfyness but the Drama that surrounded this town like a Nug to a piss filled pond was reminding him too much of his old dear home of Orzammar at least Orzammar has less Blood mages and in general crazy humans who think they are hot shit because they believe in a god who married one of his creations which is like incest, Humans are fucked up, at Least Dwarves believe in the stone which while still bullshit is still more relatable then a grandfather who married one of his many great grandchildren, but back on the matter at hand on why he has to leave; he may have blown up an Chantry mother and a bunch of Sisters, at least nobody knew he did but he deiced to leave just in case, don't need to stay around while a finger could be pointed in his general direction.

Mikal finally reached Hightown which didn't even garner any attection since many Drarves come into Hightown and do business either selling their wares or selling lyrium when the Templars were too busy looking Crazed Blood Mages. Mikal didn't even give anybody a second look as he walked past the stalls and vendors, he was here for business and hopefully he gets to leave this city and only look back when there's money in this damned place.

Mikal has finally arrived to the blooming Rose, the cities most famous Whore house, a place where a person can lay with a woman, or man if that's up your alley, Mikal's was willing to go with either but he shamefully never used the utilities since money has been scarce since he arrived and while sex is good, hunger is always a major mood killer.

Mikal walked though the door he had expected to be barraged by Whores of all sizes and races instead he was barraged by the smell of cheap beers and the smell of something that would linger in his nostrils for a good few days. But he walked past the entry area and he sees a bunch of people surrounding an as expected large and yet unexpectedly bombastic Qunari. Mikal walked next to the group and simply watched what will happen next. He wants to make a good first impression by not overwhelming the drunk oxmen, also he may leave with fewer headbutts if he didn't over excite the Qunari.

It is astonishing how many drinks one man can go through in order to stave off his boredom. Vat-Katari had practically drained a whole keg one his own as he continued to order round after round of drinks, each time as before declaring a new wave of liquor for all willing to partake. Indeed the towering Tal-Vashoth was still causing quite the scene with his boisterous behavior, but there was a method to all the chaos he was bringing which there usually is when it comes to Vat-Katari. The way he saw it the best way for him to weed those who were just looking for free drinks from the actual applicants was to give them just that, those who were to shite faced by the end weren't looking to get into the business in the first place, besides it always did Vat-Katari's ego good to know he could drink everyone in the room under the table. So as the alcohol flowed and the fools did what they did best and drank Vat-Katari's mind stayed tuned on the faces of those around him, though all this may have been different if the Blooming Rose was serving something like Maraas-Lok that was strong enough to even put the strongest Qunari warriors on their asses.

Vat-Katari had just slammed back another back another drink and ordered yet another round when he noticed quite the auditable disturbance in the revelry that he had been creating. "About time..." He murmured to himself before he turned his head to be greeted by the sight of slender fiery haired woman, or at least it was fiery at one point in her life, quite forcibly making her way through the crowd that formed around him. Vat-Katari couldn't help but let a smirk form on his face as the woman introduced herself, just as he thought people were finally showing up to look into his offer. It may have been a moment that Vat-Katari gave Evelyn a quick look over, but it was only a moment. "Finally! I was starting to think that no one in this blighted city was looking for work!" He exclaimed with a hearty laugh. "You can call me Vat-Katari, though I find you non oxmen can say Vat a lot easier so that can do for now. And no need to be so formal Red, the kind of work I deal in doesn't call for many formalities." He said before gesturing to one of the vacant seats at his table. "Besides you wouldn't be here if you had a problem with being a little informal." He said with another smirk before taking a drink from the fresh cup that was handed to him. "So tell me Red, why are you interested in signing up with me?"

As he waited for a response from Evelyn Vat-Katari made sure to take of the new arrivals that had appeared right after the ginger haired older woman, though it wasn't exactly hard to notice them. First was a young looking, but battered looking fellow that just screamed Ferelden, by the Divin's holy ass he even had a Mabari! The next was what Vat-Katari only could assume was a Dwarf with a real like for the sun judging by her tan skin, and was he losing it was she a tall dwarf? He had to make sure to double check later that he wasn't becoming a light weight and letting the drinks get to him. He then noticed a Elf with a war hammer that had to be as tall as he was and maybe even twice as heavy, not something one saw everyday. The person to enter next gave Vat-Katari a small uneasy feeling for a moment seeing as it appeared to be another Tal-Vashoth like himself judging by his shaved horns though this wouldn't be the first time the Qunari tried to send an assassin after him, but setting that instinctual distrust aside he allowed the man to go unscathed for now. Lastly he saw what he had no doubt was a dwarf brandishing a bow. There were one of two possibilities as to why all these heavily armed folks would all show up around the same time while he was here. The first being that they were actually here for his job offer, the second someone was trying to have him killed and hired this lot to do the job. If it was the latter of those two options... Vat-Katari had to hold back a smirk at the thought. These would be the most obvious assassins he has ever met and he had met a lot. Deciding to watch how everything plays out Vat-Katari returned his gaze back to Evelyn, though he did keep everyone who he had noted in his side view, whatever the case was this was going to be quite entertaining.

Evelyn found Vat-Katari's demeanor amusing, if a little headache-inducing. Damn it all, she groaned internally, I really am getting old. She relaxed her posture slightly, though she remained as formal as ever. Her mother had gone through great pains to carefully refine Evelyn's poise and presentation, and Evelyn was not about to disrespect the old Comtesse in such a way. She took the seat at the table Vat-Katari had motioned to.

With a smile and a slow nod, Evelyn replied, "I am Evelyn, adopted daughter of Comtesse Lémieux in Orlais. I was once a bard, and assassin, though as you can see I am older and no longer able to keep up with some of my... younger associates."

She hated to admit it, but there it was. It became immediately apparent to Evelyn that she was no longer the masterful bard of years past during her most recent tenure in Val Royeaux with the Red Jennies, when Evelyn began to be repeatedly outperformed by a snarky young elf with an addiction to bees and stealing breeches. Painful as it was to accept, Evelyn recognized when it was time to move on.

"However, I am still fully capable for duty, and am eager to take advantage of the opportunity you have presented. I am more than skilled with a bow, and have found ways to compensate for my aging body, so you needn't have any concerns regarding my usefulness in a fight. And besides, I have decades of experience in deceit and murder, much more than you will likely get from any other crew member you may take aboard," Evelyn motioned knowingly at the queue of various rogues and mercenaries that had begun to form behind her. It was a rag-tag bunch, for sure, but that was the cliché with pirate ships, wasn't it? Evelyn noted Vat-Katari had ever so slightly tensed up while examining the ever-growing collection of vagabonds. She had no clue what could unnerve a man of Vat's stature, even if only to the slightest degree, and prepared to react should this meeting go south.

"The Blooming Rose... quite the name." Rili sighed, rubbed his fingers through the curls that draped against his ears and neck, and continued in a soft tone, "Doesn't sound like something you want to catch."

He took one step and stopped to look at his tunic. It was not moist with a day's earnings but it was stained with oils and dirt nonetheless. He shrugged his shoulders and entered the brothel. His eyes darted in all directions, his hands went from each other to his shirt without rhyme or reason, and his torso twisted aimlessly as looked for the Qunari. Indeed, he may as well have entered a brothel for the first time.

"Damn it," he muttered. "Get yourself together. A bipedal bull. How hard could it be to—ah."

He spotted the Qunari, and another, along with an elf, two dwarves, and humans, one of them plump and small. Adorable, he thought with a jest, I always wanted a little sister. He cleared his throat and advanced, though not without maneuvering around patrons and the scantly clad, a couple of whom momentarily stole his attention. He recollected himself and made a quiet addition to the group.

Each time another round was ordered, Vash took another bottle from a serving wench. He tried to make himself as sullen seeming as he was sober and somber to portray further drunkenness. Mostly that involved leaning on the wall more and more from shoulder to flat on his back as he waited for the invitation sender to get to an actual point beyond having a crowd watch him play with his horns.

Finally he speaks up, and does a great job at saying nothing. So Vash listened and waited. Measuring everyone else up as he pondered his own response. At least he learned already that this was clearly no holy warrior of the old ways...That fact alone set him more at ease for reasons he did not know but dug at the back of his head.

Feri's eyebrows tightened together in a light frown as the dog - Gideon - sniffed at her, leaning away slightly at first, but then allowing the action. The dog was nearly as tall as she was, but she'd learnt to not be frightened by things bigger than her. Which... was kind of necessary when you were only slightly taller than your average dwarf, and most things were taller than yourself.

"Only a man from Fereldan would introduce his Mabari before himself." She said dryly, gently and somewhat awkwardly patting the top of Gideon's head - he seemed pleased with what he sniffed at, anyway. Her eyes then turned directly towards Gideon.
"As for you, if you get aboard this ship, I hope you enjoy eating mice. There's no way we'd get a mouser on board with a Mabari bounding about." Any cat in it's right mind would avoid the bloody ship like the plague with this great Fereldan beast on it, and she couldn't blame them. Gideon could probably eat her in one swallow.

Seeing that the older human was sat down and finished, Feri stepped forward. She would have allowed the Fereldan to go first, what with her having arrived after him - but she wouldn't take long in her own introductions.

"I'm Ferirev Kobald - most call me Feri. I'm a Duelist, and haven't lost a fair battle since I was but a whelp learning the trade. I grew up among pirates - if you want somebody with experience being your right hand, I'd be happy to offer my services." Naturally, Feri was after a high ranking role like First Mate. There were many things she'd be willing to do to get back on the open waters - but starting off with a job like cabin girl or scullery maid? She'd sooner take this monstrous Captain on in a fist-fight.

With that done, she took a seat by Evelyn's side, sliding a mug towards herself and tasting the liquid.

"Huh - this is better than the Hanged Man's swill. I should have come to Hightown more often." She thought to herself, downing the remainder of the ale before filling the mug back up again.

Rannon couldn't help but smirk slightly from Feri's wry manner. Gideon stopped his sniffing once she looked and spoke to him directly, and it was his turn to lean back a bit, tilting his head slightly as she spoke. The Mabari looked back to Rannon as if to ask 'is this true?' The soldier nodded to his friend, and the Mabari let out another 'weeeooorgh' as he turned back to the now seating group.

Rannon sat down across from the ladies and took a sip of the offered Ale. Gideon trotted over with him, and plopped down next to his master's feet, big tongue lolling out and brown eyes gazing around curiously. In fact in the small moments of quiet in the Blooming Rose, they could hear the 'heh heh' of the Mabari's heavy breathing. The soldier's sip turned into a few gulps, and he set down his mug audibly, wiping his mouth with his forearm. He'd been listening to the lovely red haired woman's explanation of her abilities, tilting his head much like his Mabari as he watched her. She had a kind quality to her, he could sense. She'd at least not be unpleasant to work with.

Next up was the Queen of dry remarks, and he had to hide a second smirk. She was going for first mate already, he realized. As a soldier he was a bit wary of rogueish individuals in high places, but then again, he was signing up for what could very possibly be a pirate venture and had no room to judge. As a warrior though, he was curious on how good she was with her blade. His iron eyes flickered to the Elf and silent Quanari, as well as what appeared to be another Dwarf, though it seemed odd. He looked more like a short human, unlike Feri who's ancestry he couldn't pinpoint.
Enough of this inspection, you're not a sergeant any longer. He sat up, arms crossed atop the table as he spoke. "I'm Rannon Bryceford. I am-... well I was a soldier back during the Fifth Blight. I survived my fair share of shit encounters, and for the past six months I've been a guard for the city. I can both lead and follow orders, though I admit I've only been on a ship a few times in the past. But I know how to keep my cool in the heat of bad situations and help others react that way accordingly, though if first mate isn't available, I can keep track of the weapons on the ship and keep guard, maybe serve as quartermaster." he explained, then patted the table. Everyone close heard some claws scrabbling along the floor, and then a large Mabari head pop over the side of the table, still panting.

"This is Gideon. Where I go, he goes. He's well behaved, for the most part. But he knows his way around a fight, and he knows his way around people better than you'd think. He's saved my life more than once." he said. "Just letting you know that if you have a problem with him joining this venture, then you'll have a problem with me."

Vat-Katari had to admit when he asked Evelyn to give her reasoning as to why she was interested in his offer he wasn't expecting her to be so... forthcoming, especially given his understanding of Orlesians knack for deceit and concealment. The fiery haired lass seemed to have found a way to condense the events of her life into a short enough burst that she could present them all to Vat-Katari without missing a step, but the towering Tal-Vashoth shouldn't of expected anything else from one of Orlais's fabled bards. He even found himself buying into her words, he had seen many a good warrior's sword arm fall weak do to the ruthless bitch that was time, and he had to admit he was liking them. Vat-Katari often boasted his keen tactical mind but he was never one for subtleties so having someone like Evelyn around who could handle a situation with a sharp tongue rather than a sharp blade could be priceless, though his bravado would never allow him to admit it. "I have to admit Red, that's quite the résumé you have. So I guess all I have to say is as long as you don't mind getting your hands dirty, and by the sounds of it you don't. I'd be happy to have you aboard." He finished with a rather wolfish grin.

As he was officially, or rather as officially as one could be while discussing the constructed of a pirate crew in the middle of a whorehouse, welcoming Evelyn aboard Vat-Katari couldn't help but notice yet another new arrival. "Vint." The word rang through his horned head like an alarm as soon as Vat-Katari laid eyes on the man. The would be captain had seen enough of Tevinter's people, and fought even more, to be able to spot one a mile away, it was all in the way they carried himself. His assassin theory from earlier was starting to make more sense to him now, especially seeing the Tal-Vashoth he had noticed earlier still hadn't said a word to him. But rather than jump to conclusions Vat-Katari remained focused on the folks in front of him and waited to see what these two would do, hopefully they would speak up soon.

Before his suspicion filled thought could run any more wild another person finally approached, the young possible Dwarven lass that he had noticed earlier. Unlike her older redheaded counterpart this young lady, who apparently dubbed herself Feri, was a lot less restrained and seemed to fit their current atmosphere. She also had quite the faith in her own abilities and the Tal-Vashoth had to admit, his interest was peaked. "Well you made yourself right at home now didn't you lass, I like it. Incase you couldn't hear from over at your little perch by the door my name is Vat-Katari, but Vat will do fine for now." He said with a laugh as he watched the raven haired woman partake in one of the drinks he had been supplying to the table. "Good to see that I could find someone in this city with a little taste of the life. I'd hate to have to introduce a whole crew to the life on the sea." Vat-Katari said as he finished yet another of his own drinks. It was true though he had spent years aboard a ship and had become quite adept to it Vat-Katari knew that he as going to need someone else with some experience with the life, and it seemed that that very someone had just came and fell right into his lap though he would have to admit that she wasn't what he was expecting. "As for being my right hand... you have to understand that I can't just hand out that position, anyone can claim to know the helm of a ship from their ass end. But who knows, you might just prove to me that you deserve it." He said as he was handed another drink. Just by looking at this girl Vat-Katari could tell she was more than just words, but he also knew that with a formation of a crew there would be a struggle over positions of power so he decided to reserve his judgment for now.

Just as he finished with Feri the warrior that he had pegged as Fereleden finally made his way over to the group. It turned out Vat-Katari was right on the money with this one. This man, Rannon by his accounts, was a former solider for the Fereleden army and knew his way around a battlefield, though he was a bit surprised at the news of Rannon having fought in the recent Blight. He had to hold back a smirk at the insistence that the man's Rannon had to accompany him on this venture, though Vat-Katari had heard stranger things in his life. He also had to prevent himself from patting himself on the back when his guess that many people would pine over the slot of first mate as soon as they began. "Well Rannon good news for you I have always found it wise to have a skilled warrior at my back, well one that wasn't trying to put their blade in my back, so I'd be happy to welcome you aboard. As for your four legged friend I have no problem with him, from what I've seen Mabari are quite the smart beasts, but I give one warning like I give to all my crew..." He said before turning his attention to Gideon. "Don't expect me to deal with your shite, because if I step into it it will become a lot worse for you." Vat-Katari finished with a laugh before looking back to Rannon. "Like I was telling your pint sized friend I can't hand you my right hand spot, for all I know you can be lying and not even know how to handle that blade of yours, but you can try and earn it." He said before taking a gulp of his drink.

He eyed those who talked already before looking to those who yet have and maybe it was his natural impatience but he was inclined to speak to them. "I'm guessing you lot either really like free drinks or are interested in what I have to offer. If it is the second choice say something now because I'm closing the tap." He said as he waived off the busty lass who was just about to lay down another round of drinks, spurring quite the collective groan from the crowd. "So you drunkards looking for a hand out can get to moving and if not... I have no problem with leaving you tits up in a gutter in Darktown." He said before giving quite the fiery glare which practically forced the crowd out the door. He then looked back at those who remained and gave a wicked smile as he beckoned back the young lady from before with the drinks. "Can't be too chartable you know? People will start getting ideas." He said with a smirk as he claimed his latest drink.

"Sir The Best in Thedas of House Better Luck Next Time," he said as he straightened his posture. Blasted, he thought after briefly pausing. If his skin was a shade lighter, the red in his cheeks may have shown. "Ahem. M'name's Rili, and I am here for your offer."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial filled with a red liquid that held a faint and swift shimmer, an accidental shimmer to his annoyance. He placed it on the table and nodded once.

"Elfroot, spindleweed, blood lotus, rashvine... I know my way around herbs. I do not claim to be an alchemist, but how many people can say they know someone who can stop that itch, or give some bandits a bad case of explosions?"

He may have overstated his skill in brewing potions—he never gave full attention in his herbalism lectures—but revealing his magical abilities so soon, proclaiming to be a mage in an establishment full of sleepers, soporati as he shamefully used so often, and before the crew's lives depended on it, it was a risk he did not wish to take. Lies are distasteful, he thought to himself, as would giving people reasons to fear mages.

As Vat-Katari directed his attention towards the more recent arrivals to the Blooming Rose, Evelyn directed her own to Feri and Rannon. "So, you two are vying for the first mate position, hm? Rannon and... Feri." Evelyn groaned inwardly at the severity of her accent; "Feri" was simply not a name suited for Orlesians, it being so close in pronunciation to "cheri" of the Orlesian tongue. She kept her cool outwardly, however, showing no signs of embarassment. "And what makes you think you are ready to lead? Perhaps you truly do have the experience required to call yourself superior to a pirate crew. Or perhaps," Evelyn leaned back, kicking her legs up and resting them on the seat, much in the way lords and ladies lounged on sofas and couches, "you aspire for power and respect, but lack what is required for a role of more responsibility." She may not have used her skill as a wordsmith on Vat, but now it was in full force.

As much as she was trying to cast doubt into the minds of Feri and Rannon, Evelyn was just as concerned with discovering which of the two truly was more suited for the position of first mate. She had no interest in it herself; she considered herself far too old to assume a leadership position when her subordinates were so much younger. However, her words were certainly crafted to seem as if she were. It was a play as old as the Game itself. "If you want to know who to trust, appear to trust none but yourself. If you are watchful, the trustworthy may reveal themselves in time, if not directly," her mother used to say. It was a play Comtesse Lémieux used once while arranging a successor for the marquisate in which she resided. It was certainly a gamble, as there were so many ways for it to backfire, and it often took far too long for it to come into effect. But Evelyn hoped to sow those seeds early and carefully monitor them as Vat attempted to pick a first mate out of the lot. Besides, since when was anything from the Game's playbook not a gamble?

Rannon gave an approving nod towards Rili's small display of what he could do. He always respected those who worked with herbs, because of his mother. He absently reached for the pendant she had made him in his youth, but took his hand away before he could touch it. He was afraid the memories flooding back in his mind, and he was glad when Evelyn decided to speak up.

Perhaps it was the noise of the Tavern earlier, but he had failed to accurately hear her voice until now. He should have guessed she was Orlesian from her manner, but it was unmistakable with her speech. Not just her accent either, but her words. Rannon grew up among those who had a great distrust of their Orlesian neighbors, and he could feel the same prejudice rising within his breast. But he pushed the feeling down and leaned forward, large hands together as his forearms rested on the table.

Once she was done addressing him and Feri, he spoke up. "If I don't become first mate, that's fine by me. Honestly I was merely making a suggestion, because I've had to lead before. Though of course, the Captain-" he said, waving a hand at Vat-Katari. He leaned back in his chair once again, "-would be the true leader on this venture. I can fight, I can command, but I can take orders too, if the person giving them has my respect. You're right however, to be questioning. Same with the Captain. We should be judged by our deeds rather than what we say, all of us, for any position. If anyone has suggestions on how that's decided, I'm all ears."

"I'm guessing you lot either really like free drinks or are interested in what I have to offer. If it is the second choice say something now because I'm closing the tap."

"Archer, a barrel-head at a hundred and half again paces."

The qunari took a throw pillow off of one of the fainting couches and tossed it at the chandelier. The cushion succeeded in hitting it near the bottom to start making the brass beast sway. Vash then unslung his bow as he drew a fletched harpoon, took a 'drunken' lean forward similar to a rapier lunge to make him like a tripod with his crossed shafts while pulling the string to his full extension and let fly. The candle from the swinging chandelier was snuffed out with a resounding *THUK* into the back side of the establishment's hall, the shaft penetrating the wall as deeply as any patron to the workers here.

He put the bow away with one hand and a coin held out to pay for the damages in the other. Vash was fairy certain that a silver would soothe any angers for the display of his skill, but he was not willing to be deemed reckless and miss out on the chance to be on the sea. Something about the idea of being on a boat calmed his amnesiac mind from the dull ache in the back of his head.