Siora had finally made it to Kirkwall. The journey had been long and gruelling, but the few villages she had passed through had provided her with enough coins to keep her going until she reached the city. Now, standing on the bustling streets of Kirkwall, she knew she would need to find work soon or, hopefully, another tavern willing to take on an unknown bard for entertainment.
She hadn't been able to trace Leena as of yet; her sister's trail had gone cold. There had been no mention of Bastien's progress on catching up with either of them. Siora wasn't sure if that was good or not. Bastien would likely keep news of capturing Leena to himself. The thought of her sister's fate if Bastien caught her sent shivers down Siora's spine. She couldn't bear the idea of Leena suffering while she had managed to maintain her freedom.
Somewhere along the way, Siora had picked up a tag-along. The man had been following her since she entered Lowtown, but she had ignored him, focusing instead on going from tavern to tavern, attempting to sweet-talk her way into a spot. Her lute and bow, strapped to her back, marked her clearly as a minstrel, though a lone minstrel was unusual. She was a fresh face, green around the edges despite Bastien's training. A country girl, Siora was unaccustomed to the hustle and bustle of the city and lost track of the eyes following her.
After leaving the Sleeping Gryphon, a particular tavern that had turned her down, she turned a corner into a lane that would take her back to the main street when it happened. Two pairs of hands grabbed her from either side, and a third knocked the back of her knee, unbalancing her and causing her to fall. She grunted loudly, the sound echoing off the narrow walls of the lane. Her assailants didn't seem to like that, and soon enough, she was grappling to stop a sack from being forced over her head while wriggling against the hands trying to pin her down.
Panic surged through her as she fought back. She managed to elbow one of the attackers in the ribs, earning a grunt of pain. But it wasn't enough. The sack was yanked over her head, plunging her into darkness. She kicked and thrashed, her movements growing more frantic. The smell of rough burlap filled her nostrils, and she could feel the coarse fabric scraping against her skin. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing in her ears.
"Hold her still, damn it!" one of the men growled, his voice muffled through the sack.
Siora's mind raced. She couldn't let them take her. She had to think of something, anything. Desperation gave her strength, and she managed to twist her body enough to bite down hard on the hand covering her mouth. The man yelped in pain, his grip loosening just enough for her to scream.
Help! Somebody!
The cry echoed through the alleyway, reaching the ears of passersby. She hoped someone would come to her aid, but her attackers were quick to react. A fist connected with her stomach, driving the air from her lungs and silencing her scream. She doubled over, gasping for breath, her struggles weakening.
Just as she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, the sounds of a scuffle reached her ears. The pressure on her limbs lessened, and the hands holding her down were suddenly gone. She ripped the sack from her head, gulping in the fresh air. Blinking against the fading daylight, she saw a few figures standing over her, and understanding the smirks across their faces, fought harder. Pain exploded across her face but still she struggled, the taste of bloody copper trickled into her mouth… had they broken her nose… no… but close?
Mercenary, Loyal to Nairn, Assassin, Stalker, Jack of all Trades
Played by: Bach
Supporting
Danny stumbled through the dimly lit streets, the remnants of a raucous night out clinging to him like the lingering scent of ale. The rough neighborhood, with its cracked sidewalks and flickering streetlights, was a familiar territory. He had spent countless nights navigating these streets, earning his reputation as the head enforcer for The Coterie. Confidence oozed from his every step, even as the effects of the evening’s drinks swayed his balance slightly.
The echoes of laughter from his friends faded into the background as he made his way home. His thoughts drifted in a pleasant haze until a sudden, piercing cry for help cut through the night, snapping him to attention. It was a sound that struck him to his core, dragging him back to a night in Kirkwall years earlier—the night when his wife was murdered. The memory, always lurking at the edges of his consciousness, surged forward, sobering him instantly.
Gritting his teeth, Danny's eyes narrowed, and a familiar, fierce determination set in. He turned toward the alley where the cry had come from, his movements now purposeful and sharp. The narrow passage was shrouded in shadows, the kind of place where desperate deeds were done under the cover of darkness.
Oi, what’s all this then? he barked, his voice carrying the weight of authority and the promise of violence. Danny stepped into the alley, his stance wide and ready, eyes scanning for the source of the disturbance.
There, halfway down the alley, he saw them—a group of thugs surrounding a young woman. They had her backed against the wall, their intentions clear in the predatory way they closed in on her. Danny's blood boiled at the sight, and he felt the familiar rush of adrenaline that signaled the onset of a fight.
Well, ain’t you lot just a bunch of soddin’ arseholes, he growled, stepping closer. I reckon you picked the wrong night to play heroes in my bloody neighborhood.
The thugs turned, momentarily startled by his appearance. One of them, a burly man with a sneer, stepped forward, clearly unimpressed. “This ain’t your business, mate. Walk away.”
Danny’s lips twisted into a dark smile, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. Oh, but it is, sunshine. You see, I make it my business to deal with scum like you. Now, why don’t you and your pals piss off before I rearrange your faces?
The burly thug snarled and lunged at Danny, fists swinging. Danny sidestepped with practiced ease, delivering a swift punch to the man’s gut that doubled him over. That’s for tryin’, Danny muttered, grabbing the thug by the collar and slamming him into the nearest wall.
The other thugs hesitated, uncertainty flickering in their eyes. Danny straightened, cracking his knuckles with a menacing grin. Who’s next? Come on, don’t be shy. I’ve got enough for all of you.
The remaining thugs exchanged nervous glances before deciding their victim wasn’t worth the trouble. They backed away slowly, casting wary looks at Danny. We’re done here,” one of them muttered, and they quickly disappeared into the night.
Danny watched them go, satisfaction curling in his chest. He turned to the young woman. You alright, love? he asked, his tone softening.
Siora's breath came in shallow, ragged bursts as she pushed herself upright, the fear still clinging to her like a second skin. Her hands shook slightly, but her grip tightened around the hilt of the small dagger she had managed to draw from her boot in the chaos. As Danny turned his back to her, satisfied the thugs had been dealt with, she saw one of the men, the burly one Danny had slammed against the wall, try to make a slow retreat, his eyes darting to the side like a cornered animal.
Without hesitation, Siora lunged forward, the adrenaline coursing through her veins driving her movements. She struck the man in the side, her dagger slicing through his shirt and grazing his skin just enough to draw blood. He yelped, stumbling away from her, his bravado shattered by the sting of the blade. The man glared at her, clutching his side, but with the threatening look of Danny stopped him from retaliating. He spat on the ground and limped off, following the others into the shadows.
Siora stood there, her chest heaving, the dagger still clenched in her hand. Her eyes flicked up to Danny, wary now, her relief tempered by a surge of suspicion. This man had saved her, yes, but the streets of Kirkwall had taught her to be cautious of those who appeared too eager to play the hero.
I am now... thanks, she said, her voice steadier than she felt, though a hint of wariness crept in. She wiped the blade clean on her tunic before slipping it back into her boot. I didn’t think anyone would come. Not here, not in a place like this.
She took a step back, putting a little more distance between them as she assessed him, her gaze sharp and calculating. He was strong, that much was obvious, and he moved with the ease of someone who had seen more than his fair share of fights. His presence had scattered the thugs, but Siora couldn't shake the nagging thought that something about this encounter felt... too convenient.
You’ve got good timing, she continued, her tone carefully neutral. Though I suppose I’ve wandered into the wrong part of town. Still, people don’t usually get involved unless there’s something in it for them. What made you step in? Not everyone’s so quick to help a stranger, especially around here.
Mercenary, Loyal to Nairn, Assassin, Stalker, Jack of all Trades
Played by: Bach
Supporting
Danny let out a low chuckle, the sound rough and edged with the kind of cynicism that comes from seeing too much of the world’s darker side. He eyed Siora as she stepped back, her wariness not lost on him. Smart girl, he thought, but maybe a bit too quick to mistrust. Not that he could blame her, given the state he found her in.
What made me step in? Danny repeated, his voice dripping with a mix of sarcasm and mock surprise. Well, love, let’s just say I’ve got a soft spot for bastards who think they can do whatever they like just ‘cause they’ve got the numbers. Reminds me of some old mates I didn’t much care for, and you know how it is—can’t let bad habits die without a bit of a beating now and then.
He took a step closer, his expression hardening slightly as he looked her over. She was clearly capable, even in a tight spot, but there was something about her that made him think she was running from more than just the thugs in that alley. As for timing, well, maybe I just like a good scrap. Gets the blood pumping, keeps the mind sharp, you know? He shrugged, playing it off casually, though his eyes remained sharp, sizing her up as much as she was him.
Danny tilted his head, considering her next words with a more serious expression. You’re right ‘bout one thing—people ‘round here don’t do nothin’ for free. And you’re right to be suspicious. But me? I’m just a bloke who saw some bastards getting too big for their boots and decided to do somethin’ ‘bout it. Call it a public service. His grin returned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
He crossed his arms, the tension in his posture easing a bit. But if you’re worried I’m lookin’ to collect on some favor, don’t be. I don’t need anything from you, and frankly, I’ve got enough on my plate without adding more to it. So take it as it is—a bit of luck, or fate, or whatever you wanna call it. You’re safe for now, and that’s all that matters.
Danny’s eyes flicked to the spot where the thugs had retreated, then back to Siora. But if you’re gonna be wanderin’ ‘round Lowtown, you might want to keep that blade of yours a bit closer at hand. Next time, you might not be so lucky to have a handsome bloke like me strollin’ by. His tone was teasing, but there was an underlying seriousness to his words.
Now, unless you’ve got a death wish, how ‘bout we get you somewhere a bit safer, yeah? This place ain’t exactly known for its friendly locals, as you’ve just found out. He paused, his expression softening just a fraction. Name’s Danny, by the way. And if you’re stickin’ ‘round here, you might want to remember it. You’ll find not everyone’s as understanding as me.
Siora listened to Danny's words, her eyes narrowing slightly as she weighed each one. His cynicism wasn’t unexpected, nor was his casual bravado, but it did little to ease the knot of suspicion tightening in her chest. She’d seen too many smooth talkers in her time, and while Danny had certainly saved her, she wasn’t about to let her guard down just because he wore a roguish smile.
Maybe I’m just not used to good fortune, she replied, her tone cool but not ungrateful. Or maybe I’ve learned that luck usually comes with strings attached. And in a place like this? Strings can get tangled pretty quickly.
She kept her distance, subtly shifting her weight, ready to move if she had to. The way Danny stepped closer had set her on edge, his sharp eyes reminding her of a predator sizing up potential prey. But she wasn’t about to play the part of a frightened rabbit. Her hand moved, ready to reach for the dagger in her boot, a reminder to both him and herself that she wasn’t defenceless.
And as for that soft spot of yours, she continued, her voice laced with a hint of sarcasm, I’d be careful where you show it, someone might take a fancy to it.
She paused, considering his offer to take her somewhere safer. It was tempting, the idea of not having to look over her shoulder every second, but trust was a luxury she couldn’t afford right now. She was already navigating a city alone, and the last thing she needed was to fall into someone else’s game from escaping Bastien’s.
Appreciate the concern, but I’ve been looking after myself for a while now, she said, her tone firm. I’ll manage. Besides, sticking close to someone who seems to enjoy a good scrap might bring more trouble than I’m ready for. But even as she said it, she knew she wasn’t in a position to turn down every bit of help that came her way. Kirkwall was unforgiving, and she’d learned quickly that survival often meant making choices you didn’t like. Still, she wasn’t about to make any hasty decisions.
She took a breath, letting her tension ease just a little. Siora, she offered finally, her voice softer now, though still guarded. And I’ll remember your name, Danny. Not sure if that’s a good thing yet, but I guess time will tell.
Her gaze flicked to the alley's entrance, the shadows stretching longer as the night deepened. If you really want to help, point me to a tavern or place where I can lie low for a bit. Somewhere quiet, where people don’t ask too many questions. I’ve got enough of those following me as it is.
She wasn’t about to follow him blindly, but if Danny knew the city as well as he seemed to, a bit of guidance wouldn’t hurt. Still, she’d keep her eyes open, her hands ready to snatch her blade.
Mercenary, Loyal to Nairn, Assassin, Stalker, Jack of all Trades
Played by: Bach
Supporting
Danny watched her closely, noting the tension in her posture, the way her hand hovered near her boot. Smart move, he thought. She wasn’t going to be easily fooled, and he respected that. The city had a way of making people sharp, and it looked like Siora was catching on quick.
Fair enough, he replied with a nod, his tone still laced with that rough-edged humor. Can’t blame you for bein’ cautious. This city ain’t exactly known for its warm welcomes. He tilted his head slightly, considering her request. But if you’re lookin’ for a place to lay low, I’ve got a couple of suggestions that might do the trick.
He pointed down the alley towards the main street. If you’re stayin’ in Lowtown, you can head over to the Hanged Man, you’ll find a place where no one’s gonna give you a second look unless you’re buyin’ a round. The crowd’s a mix—mercs, smugglers, folks who’ve seen too much and said too little. It’s noisy, dirty, and the ale’s shite, but it’s a good spot to blend in.
Danny paused, then continued, But if you’re after something a bit quieter, and I don’t mean anything by this beyond your safety, a bit more outta sight, then the Elvhen Alienage might be a better bet. Elves there don’t bother with outsiders much, but they don’t ask questions, either. As long as you don’t stir up trouble, you’ll be left alone, and you don’t strike me as the sort to go poking around in things that don’t concern you, so you should be good there as well.
He took a step back, giving her some space, his hands held up in a show of peace. Look, I get it. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. But this city’s full of bastards waitin’ to take advantage of folks like you. You need a place to catch your breath, those are your best bets. If you choose the Hanged Man and run into trouble you can always drop my name. He didn’t mention being the head enforcer for the Coterie, though he imagined if she started asking around about him, she’d find out soon enough on her own.
Siora listened intently, her eyes never leaving Danny's as he spoke. Every word he said was measured carefully in her mind, weighed against her own instincts and the harsh lessons the city had already begun to teach her. She didn’t miss the way he respected her caution, nor did she overlook the subtle undercurrent of familiarity in his tone when he mentioned the places he suggested. Both options had their merits, but each came with its own set of risks.
She nodded slowly, acknowledging his advice. The Hanged Man sounds like my kind of place. Easier to get lost in. And if it’s got the sort of clientele you say, then maybe I won’t be the odd one out.
Her hand slipped away from her boot, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. It wasn’t that she trusted Danny - trust was too strong a word for someone she’d just met in an alley - but she recognized that he wasn’t out to harm her. At least, not right now. He seemed more interested in giving her a fighting chance, and that was more than she could say for most people she’d encountered in life so far.
Elvhen Alienage, though… She hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. I’ve heard enough to know it’s not exactly welcoming to outsiders, but you’re right - they’re not likely to ask questions. And I’d rather not answer any more than I have to.
She shifted her lute onto her back, the familiar weight grounding her. The choice was clear now. The Hanged Man was her best bet. It offered anonymity, a place to blend in and listen, and maybe even a chance to earn some coin if she could charm the right people. She didn’t want to hide in the Alienage, cut off from information and trapped by her own need for secrecy.
I’ll try the Hanged Man first, she said, her voice firming up as she made her decision. And if it gets too hot, I’ll head to the Alienage.
She took a deep breath, feeling a little more in control now that she had a plan. Thanks for the advice… Danny. The name rolled off her tongue, still unfamiliar, but she committed it to memory, just in case. She knew she’d probably need it sooner or later in this city.
Siora started to turn, ready to leave the alley and put some distance between herself and this strange encounter, but she paused, glancing back at Danny one last time. You’re right - I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. But… I’ll keep your name in mind. You seem like someone who knows how to handle themselves, and in this city, that’s worth something. Maybe our paths will cross again. I won’t charge you for a song.
With that, she offered him a small, guarded smile, nothing more than a brief quirk of her lips, and then she turned away, making her way toward the main street. She moved with purpose now, but the knot of tension in her stomach had loosened just a bit, yet something niggled. Letting out a sigh, the young woman turned back, Bet that fight made you thirsty though, yeah?
Mercenary, Loyal to Nairn, Assassin, Stalker, Jack of all Trades
Played by: Bach
Supporting
Danny watched Siora as she made her decision, his expression remaining impassive, but there was a flicker of approval in his eyes. She had the sense to weigh her options carefully, and that told him she might just survive in a place like Kirkwall. When she mentioned the Hanged Man, he gave a small nod. It was the right call—easier to disappear in a crowd than hide where everyone would notice an outsider.
As she thanked him, Danny just grunted in acknowledgment, his way of saying, *You’re welcome* without actually having to say the words. He wasn’t one for long, drawn-out goodbyes or unnecessary chatter. People came and went in this city, and most of them didn’t bother remembering faces or names. But something told him Siora wasn’t the type to forget, and he found himself curious if she’d end up needing to use his name after all.
Her parting words brought a smirk to his lips, though he didn’t let it linger too long. He liked her spirit, that was for sure. The city had a way of grinding people down, but it seemed like Siora had just enough grit to keep from getting swallowed whole.
He was about to turn back the way he came when she called out to him again, her voice cutting through the quiet of the alley. The question brought a chuckle out of him, low and rough. He hadn’t expected her to turn back, but then again, Kirkwall was full of surprises.
Danny looked her over once more, considering the offer. Thirsty? he echoed, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a half-smile. Yeah, you could say that. A good scrap always leaves a man parched. He took a few steps toward her, his stride easy and confident, like he owned the street they were standing on.
Tell you what, Siora, you come with me to the Hanged Man, and I’ll buy the first round. You’ve earned it after the night you’ve had. Besides, I could use the company—sick of drinkin’ with blokes who can’t hold their liquor. His tone was casual, but there was a sharpness behind his eyes that hinted at something more—an invitation, sure, but also a test. He wanted to see what she was really made of, now that the danger had passed.
Danny figured if she was going to make it in Kirkwall, she might as well start by getting to know the kind of people who ran the place. And if she stuck around long enough, who knew? Maybe she’d prove to be more useful than just another pretty face with a lute. He tilted his head, waiting for her answer, though he had a feeling she wouldn’t turn him down. Not tonight.
Siora paused, one foot already pointed toward the main street, when Danny’s chuckle echoed down the alley. There was something about it that made her turn back, curiosity tugging at the edges of her caution. His offer, casual as it was, hung in the air between them, tempting her with the promise of a drink and, perhaps, a glimpse into the world she was only beginning to navigate.
She looked him over, sizing him up once more, her eyes narrowing slightly as she caught the glint of challenge in his. It wasn’t lost on her that this was more than just an invitation for a drink - Danny was testing her, seeing if she’d rise to the occasion or back down. And Siora? She wasn’t one to back down easily, especially not when there was something to gain.
Really showing your good side there, Danny, she replied, a teasing lilt in her voice. Sure that's wise? What if I’m more trouble than I look?
She stepped closer, her hand drifting from the hilt of her dagger to the strap of her lute, fingers brushing the worn wood. There was a spark in her eyes now, a hint of playfulness mixed with the wariness she hadn’t fully shaken off. Danny’s offer wasn’t just about the drink; it was a way to learn more about him, to see what kind of man he really was in a place like Kirkwall.
Tell you what, she continued, her tone softening just a touch as she let her guard down, if only slightly. Since you’re buying, I’ll sing more than one song then. If this place is as you say it is.
There was a challenge in her words now, mirroring his own. If the Hanged Man was truly the kind of place where she could blend in, then she’d use it to her advantage. She needed a spot to lay low, and if Danny was willing to cover her drinks, then she might as well make the most of the night.
And who knows? she added with a sly smile, Maybe I’ll even teach you a thing or two about holding your liquor.
With that, she started walking again, this time heading in the direction Danny had pointed out earlier. She didn’t look back, trusting that he’d follow, but she kept her senses alert, ready for anything. Siora had no illusions about the city or the man she was about to share a drink with, but if she was going to survive in Kirkwall, she’d need to take a few risks.
The night was still young, and if she played her cards right, she might come out of it with more than just a free drink. She might just find a way to carve out a place for herself in this dangerous, unpredictable city.
Mercenary, Loyal to Nairn, Assassin, Stalker, Jack of all Trades
Played by: Bach
Supporting
Danny watched with a satisfied smirk as Siora took the bait. He liked her spark—enough caution to survive in a place like Kirkwall, but not so much that it stopped her from taking a chance when it was handed to her. She had guts, that much was clear, and he appreciated that in a person. Especially in a city where most folks were either too scared or too stupid to know when to keep their heads down.
Her challenge didn’t go unnoticed, and it only made his grin widen. More trouble than you look? he echoed, his tone mockingly thoughtful. Well, that’d be a sight to see. Kirkwall could use a bit more excitement anyway. And as for my good side... He paused, the grin turning into a wry smile. Let’s just say you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, love.
As she started walking toward the Hanged Man, Danny fell in step beside her, his hands casually slipping into his pockets. He kept a close eye on their surroundings as they moved, the streets of Lowtown still buzzing with the usual night-time activity. He’d been in enough fights to know that trouble could come from anywhere at any time, especially when you were leading a newcomer through the roughest parts of the city.
But for now, his focus was on Siora. She intrigued him, and that wasn’t something that happened often. Most people who crossed his path were either targets or annoyances, but Siora had potential. She was quick, sharp, and clearly had a story worth hearing. And in Danny’s line of work, that made her valuable—whether she knew it yet or not.
The Hanged Man’s as rough as they come, but that’s what makes it fun, he said as they walked, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and pride. And if you’re offering up more than one song, well, I’d say we’re in for a decent night. Maybe even better than I thought. But you might want to pace yourself with the drinks, ‘cause I’ve yet to meet anyone who can outlast me at the bar. The challenge in his words was clear, but it was tempered with a hint of genuine interest.
They reached the entrance to the Hanged Man, the sounds of rowdy patrons spilling out into the street. Danny pushed the door open and gestured for Siora to enter, the smirk still firmly in place. After you, Siora. Let’s see what you’re made of. He followed her inside, the familiar atmosphere of the tavern wrapping around him like an old, worn-in coat.
Tonight was shaping up to be more interesting than he’d expected. And if Siora could hold her own, then maybe—just maybe—she’d find herself with a new ally in this twisted city. One who could open doors she didn’t even know existed.
For now, though, there was beer to drink, songs to sing, and a night to get through. Danny was curious to see just how far this new acquaintance could go.
As Danny’s offer lingered between them, she kept her eyes on him, weighing her options with care. His invitation was casual, sure, but there was something in his tone, in the way his gaze never wavered from hers, that told her this wasn’t just about a drink.
She wasn’t naïve. Bastien had drilled that out of her. Danny was testing her, seeing what kind of woman she really was. And Siora, for her part, was doing the same. Survival depended on more than just being quick with a blade or sharp with a tongue. You had to know people, and more importantly, you had to know who was worth trusting, even if only for a moment.
Siora couldn’t help but smirk to herself, she’d caught the challenge there. She might be new to this city, but she wasn’t about to back down from a little test of character.
Alright then, she said with a small shrug, playing it casual. And since you’re buyin', I suppose I can’t refuse, but I’ll still sing. Gotta start somewhere.
She gave him one last appraising glance before turning on her heel, heading toward the direction of the Hanged Man. She could feel his presence just behind her as they made their way through the streets, his footsteps confident, each one a reminder that Danny was not someone to be underestimated. The narrow alleys and uneven cobblestones soon gave way to a more crowded part of Lowtown, where the noise of the bustling tavern could already be heard even before they reached the door.
The Hanged Man was just as Danny had described - noisy, rough, and filled with the kind of people who minded their own business. Mercenaries, smugglers, and those who lived on the edge of the law all blended together in a chaotic swirl of shouted conversations, clinking mugs, and the occasional burst of raucous laughter. Siora paused at the entrance, taking it all in before stepping inside.
She scanned the room quickly, her instincts kicking in, checking exits and corners. She spotted a table in the far corner, tucked away but still offering a decent view of the entire tavern. It was exactly the kind of spot she’d been looking for - out of the way, but not hidden. And most importantly, it allowed her to keep an eye on the comings and goings of everyone inside. She gestured toward it with a nod and made her way over. When they reached the table, Siora offered him the seat that gave the best view of the room. Your chair, Serrah, she said, a touch of amusement in her voice, posture exaggerated like some waiter. After all, you seem to know the people who run this place better than I do.
So, this is the Hanged Man, she mused, glancing around. You weren’t wrong about it being lively. Maybe I’ll sing more than one song then. If, of course, this place lives up to its reputation.
Her eyes glinted with challenge. Siora knew how to work a crowd when she needed to, and if she could make a few coins while they drank, all the better. But part of her offer was also to test him - to see how much he wanted to hear her play, and maybe to gauge what kind of man he was when the tension of the night faded into the background.
She might not fully trust him, but she could already tell he was a man worth keeping an eye on. Just in case.
Mercenary, Loyal to Nairn, Assassin, Stalker, Jack of all Trades
Played by: Bach
Supporting
Danny leaned back, flagon in hand, watching her with that same easy smirk as Siora sized up the room. The Hanged Man was a rough place by any standard, but for some reason, seeing her pause, take it all in, and stand there like she was already calculating her next move amused him. And maybe even earned her a hint more of his respect. Not that he’d let her see it.
Alright, then, he murmured, raising an eyebrow. Now that you’ve had a good look, tell me – what do you make of the place? Think it’ll suit you well enough? He tilted his cup toward her in a small, teasing salute. Or did I overdo it with the sales pitch?
Danny let the words hang in the air for a moment, his grin widening as he observed her, noting the way her eyes didn’t settle on any one part of the room for too long. She might be fresh, but she wasn’t blind to the sort of crowd she’d just stepped into.
He reached for his drink, taking a long, slow gulp before setting it down with a heavy thunk. And since you’re here, he added, eyes narrowing with a lazy sort of interest, any chance you’ll be showin’ us what you can do with that lute of yours? All these blokes could use a bit of refinement, whether they know it or not.
The challenge was clear, but he wasn’t expecting an answer right away. No, he’d let her chew on it a bit, see how she responded to the idea of getting up and playing in a room full of strangers. He leaned back, arms crossed, gaze locked on her with an expression that managed to say both *your move* and *no rush*. The Hanged Man’s usual noise and laughter buzzed around them, but in this corner of the tavern, everything felt sharpened, like a game just waiting to be played.
Siora gave the room one last glance, letting her eyes sweep over the lively crowd. It was more than she’d expected. The chatter, the clink of mugs, the occasional burst of off-key singing from a table near the back. It was noisy, chaotic, but also warm in a way, like everyone was here to forget the weight of their problems, if only for a night. She knew better than to trust first impressions, but for now, she could see why Danny had brought her here.
She turned back to him, catching his smirk, and allowed herself a faint, knowing smile. It’ll do for now, she said, her tone cool, even as she mentally conceded that it was more than she’d hoped for. The way she said it made it sound like she was barely impressed, but her eyes flickered with something else; acceptance, maybe even a touch of relief.
His gaze was on her, studying her as if waiting to see how she’d play this out, but she didn’t draw attention to it. Instead, she just reached for the strap of her lute, pulling it around to rest across her lap. She didn’t rush, but her movements were smooth and practised, like she’d done this a thousand times before.
There was a slight tension in the air, Danny’s interest less than lazy. Maybe this was a test, maybe not, but she wasn’t one to back down just because someone was curious.
Once she was satisfied with its tuning, she shifted, perching on the arm of her chair rather than sitting properly. It gave her a better view of the room and of Danny, too. There was something casual yet deliberate about the way she balanced there, legs dangling, lute cradled in her hands. She began plucking the strings, the melody light and playful, like she was warming up but also giving him a taste of what she could do.
Funny, though, she said, her tone teasing but soft, the notes dancing under her fingers. A place like this doesn’t exactly scream ‘refinement.’ But I guess that’s what makes it interesting. She let the words hang, the way Danny had done earlier, then looked up at him, her grin bright. Alright, then. Let’s see if I can class the place up a bit.
With that, she shifted her grip, fingers poised, and launched into a lively, upbeat folk song, one that was known across the trade tongue. It was the kind of tune that had a simple, catchy melody, with a rhythm that made people want to tap their feet and clap along. Her voice carried over the noise, growing clearer and stronger, but with a lilting, easy quality that made the song sound almost effortless. At periods Si would glance back over to the gruff Danny, eventually relinquishing the lead of the song to others.
Mercenary, Loyal to Nairn, Assassin, Stalker, Jack of all Trades
Played by: Bach
Supporting
Danny leaned back in his seat, arms still crossed as he watched Siora set up with her lute. His eyes narrowed with an approving glint when she started strumming, the playful notes cutting through the usual tavern clamor. He hadn’t expected her to jump right in like that, but he couldn’t say he was disappointed. In fact, it was exactly the kind of move that would catch people’s attention, and in a place like the Hanged Man, that could be both a blessing and a curse. But Siora had guts, and he respected that.
When the song took off, Danny’s smirk deepened, though he kept his expression mostly neutral. The folk tune was light, almost jaunty, the kind of song that got the drunkards to sway in their seats and the more sober ones to start tapping their feet. He scanned the room, noticing a few heads turning, some smiles creeping across the patrons’ faces as they got into the rhythm. It wasn’t long before a couple of them started clapping along, the atmosphere in the tavern lightening just a touch.
Danny took another long drink, savoring the bitter taste of his ale as Siora’s voice rang out clearer and stronger. He wasn’t one for folk music, but he could appreciate a good performance when he heard one, and she was pulling it off without a hitch. When she threw a glance his way, there was a hint of amusement in his eyes, as if silently acknowledging she’d risen to the challenge.
By the time she wrapped up the song and the scattered applause began, Danny set his mug down with a loud thunk, uncrossing his arms. He looked at her, his grin a little more crooked now, less guarded.
Well, I’ll give it to ya, he said, his voice carrying over the fading claps. You’ve got more balls than half the blokes in this place. And the song ain’t bad either. Worth it? He let the question linger in the air for a second before giving a casual shrug. Yeah. Worth it. Couldn’t hurt to hear a few more if you’re up for it. Might even convince some of these sorry sods to buy ya a drink. He chuckled, his tone half teasing, half serious.
Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the table, eyes locking onto hers with a sharper edge now. But don’t get too comfortable. Kirkwall’s a shitshow, love. Even in a place like this, you never know who’s listening... or what they want. His voice lowered slightly, taking on a more serious tone. Keep that in mind if you’re plannin’ on hangin’ round here long. Trust is a rare fuckin’ commodity, so don’t hand it out for free.
She wasn’t quite sure what she had expected from the room, but the mix of half-hearted clapping and drunken cheer made her lips curl into a slight, satisfied smile. It was a small victory, but she’d take it. Danny’s reaction, though, was harder to gauge. She caught his grin, a bit less guarded than before, and she could almost feel the tension in the air shift, less testing, more... approval? Maybe even a hint of camaraderie, but she might be hoping too much, too early. His face looked far more handsome when he wasn’t so guarded.
Siora’s fingers idly plucked a few stray notes, as he spoke, keeping the rhythm alive as if she was deciding whether to dive into another song or let the moment breathe. When Danny commented on her guts, she couldn’t help but grin back, a flash of teeth that was part acknowledgment, part defiance. Balls, huh? That’s one way to put it, she replied, the words light but with an edge that matched his tone. I’d say it’s more about knowin’ when to make your move. Folk’s like a bit of distraction, something to take their minds off... everything else.
She shifted her weight on the arm of the chair, adjusting her lute and letting it rest across her lap as she considered his offer. More songs, more drinks, more chances to make an impression. Or to draw the wrong kind of attention. She glanced around the room, noting the way a few of the regulars were already back to their own conversations, but others still watched her with a mix of curiosity and, she imagined, a bit of scepticism. All Bastien had to do was offer a shiny coin for information.
Danny’s voice cut through her thoughts, his tone shifting to something darker, more serious. His words weren’t a warning so much as a reminder and Siora felt a chill creep up her spine, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she met his gaze, her eyes steady and searching, trying to read between the lines of what he was really saying.
Don’t worry, Danny, she said, voice soft but firm, the playful lilt from earlier slipping away. I’ve been taught not to trust anyone too quickly. Especially not when they’re offerin’ a round and advice all in the same breath. She let that hang there for a beat, then softened her expression, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. But... I appreciate it. Consider the warning noted.
Her fingers strummed a few more chords, a different melody this time—slower, more reflective. And as for hangin’ around, well... we’ll see. Place like this, there’s always someone willing to pay for a good song. She tilted her head slightly, eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and defiance. Or a bit of information. If you know how to listen. I’ll give you first rights to whatever I hear about.
Without waiting for his response, she began to play again, this time slipping into a softer, more melancholic tune. She let the song fill the corner of the tavern, letting it work its way into the background hum, subtly shifting the mood without demanding too much attention. As she played, her eyes flicked to Danny every so often, gauging his reaction, trying to piece together what kind of man he really was. She’d caught his interest tonight, sure, but that was just the beginning. And if he thought he was the only one keeping score, he was in for a surprise.
