Post by mark amell on May 22, 2014 20:58:32 GMT
when mark first walks up to an old-money house, his first instinct is to break into it, really. he didn't get to live as an apostate for nearly ten years without picking up on the hint that most rich folk's reaction to a mage on their doorstep was to scream for a templar. especially in these times - mark doubts that any templar of meredith's will even bother dragging him to the circle of magi first. which is why he decided to hide the staff somewhere for once and invest in some less tattered clothes for once. he is still deliberating on the doorstep when the door opens, and mark is met with a dwarf with bright blue eyes. "...enchantment?" mark had smiled. "charmed to meet you too." the boy's father intercepts their conversation - he said that his name is bodahn. a merchant who is already in the hawkes' employ. it takes mark a little bit of time to convince the man that he is not in fact a rival merchant who is attempting to sell master hawke anything. "do the names 'aristide' or 'fausten' mean anything to you?" the dwarf shakes his head, looking at the mage suspiciously. "this is the household of the champion of kirkwall. personally, i think that you've got the wrong house" "yes, yes, i know--" mark gets desperate. he's spent a lot of time working up the courage to come to kirkwall, damn it. "but i would prefer to speak to an amell first." someone who might recognize him, someone who might give him real legitimacy. from what he's heard, the champion was a relatively new arrival to kirkwall. "what about revka, gamlen, damion, or leandra?" at the mention of leandra, the merchant looks about ten years older. tired, even. "what...what business do you have with miss leandra?" mark stands his ground. he's already been through these sorts of questions with himself a thousand times on the way to the free marches. he will not falter. not when he's finally this close to meeting one of the family. "i think that's for her to know." he hears two pairs of footsteps behind him, and they sound far too heavy to be an elegant noblewoman's. "ah, there you are, master hawke! and fenris too!" the dwarf's voice is just a little too cheerful, in the way that an enchanter would address irwing when mark proved to be too difficult to discipline. oh, maker. bruixa |  |
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