Although the sky above held blue skies and a merry sun, there was a cold bite to the gentle wind carrying across the air. Whether it was because she sensed the beginnings of winter approaching, or impending doom in the shape of a darkspawn horde, Feri felt unsettled. There was but a moment of sweet bliss she held in the early morning, awaking in the comfortable (Well - more comfortable than the wilderness, anyhow) tavern bed to the hustle and bustle of an excited town. The memories of the night before; her conversation with Rannon, the closeness of them both on the table, and the bittersweet sensation of having a barmaid ruin their little bubble... all of it was recalled fondly, and with a touch of excitement. But as older, more foul memories returned to her still half-asleep mind, her happiness drained and was replaced with worry. Not just for what they had seen and encountered already, but what was to come. Rannon was in grave danger being in this town, what with having witnessed the traitorous events of Loghain Mac Tir at Ostagar - with a bent Guard-Captain and complacently widowed Bann, there was too much going on for Feri to have watched the tourney at ease. While she didn't doubt Rannon's capabilities, there were too many threats present for this to seem like a fair fight.

Placing what she hoped was an encouraging smile on her face as Rannon briefly looked their way, an unusually serious expression swiftly replaced it as Feri scanned the crowd. Eyes locked on Bann Heathor as he spoke to the crowd, the uncomfortable knot of concern in Feri's stomach tightened. This wasn't a man who was grieving a wife of many years whom he had loved with all his heart. It certainly wasn't a man who knew about the impending Blight practically knocking on his doorstep either. He sounded too out of place for the circumstances, and that alone stank. Noticing the rich fabric of his (tightly fitting) clothes and the rings on his fingers, Feri's eyes narrowed. They looked of similar make to the kind she had noticed in the Guard-Captain's office... was the Bann paying off the Guard-Captain? Or were they both being paid off to turn a blind eye by somebody else entirely? Perhaps Loghain's reach was longer than they had anticipated.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Giddy." Feri murmured to the Mabari, [i]sejant[/i] beside her and peering at the crowd just as intently. As she looked, she noticed the man in question; having suddenly appeared behind the rather comfortable looking seat of the Bann's prim daughter. Nudging the strange man that stood beside her, Feri offered him a grin.

"Who's that strapping fellow over there? If he's after the Bann's daughter, I'd have thought he'd be participating in the tourney." She asked in a gossiping manner, knowing full well what small-town villagers were like for spreading stories. As anticipated, the man in question nodded in response, a somewhat leering grin appearing as he looked at the pair.

"Aye, she's a pretty one alright. Not worth the trouble though, if the stories from the maids up at the manor are anything to go by. That man though..." The man's expression sobered up slightly. "That's Guard-Captain Ransen. Only recently got the job too. Nasty piece of work, though you didn't hear it from me. I'd steer clear of him while your and your man are visiting."

"Recently, you say?" Feri murmured in response, still looking at Ransen before she fully realised what the man had said. Blushing furiously, she turned to look at him. "Rannon's not my man! He's just -" Trailing off as she realised the villager had left the crowd to source some food, the half-dwarf turned back round huffily, arms crossed and cheeks still red. "Just a friend." She muttered. Gideon woofed in disbelief, and the tourney began. Feri couldn't decide whether or not to keep her eyes on Rannon, or potential foes in the crowd surrounding them.

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