A Break From the Action? [Open]

[Willow]

“Forty sovereigns? Very well, very well, Serah. You drive a hard bargain...oh, Maker, not again! Thief!” The nobleman bellowed, casting around hopelessly for whoever had cut his purse strings for the third time that month.

Willow chuckled, almost done counting the contents of the missing purse. Forty sovereigns, a hard bargain? The man had almost sixty in here. That made...maybe one hundred and forty, total? Not bad at all, from one nobleman who hadn’t learned his lesson. It covered her rent for the next six months at least, anyway.

Tucking the purse behind one of the many cloth sashes she’d tied around her waist as impromptu belts, Willow made a quick stop at the Gnawed Noble to pay her tab, then stepped back out into the weak sunshine and wove her way through the slightly smaller streets leading away from the busy market.

Maybe she should head for the docks; see what ships had pulled in. She may be taking a break from the pirating life, but she still liked to watch the ships when she was bored. Sure, the docks stank of fish and other unpleasantness, but beneath it all there was the tang of the sea that she had come to miss.

As usual, she steered clear of the warehouse district, more out of habit than anything else now. It wasn’t a conscious decision to avoid the place, but she wouldn’t have chosen differently if she’d noticed what she was doing. It may be a different city, but ever since that mistaken raid as a child, large, dark, abandoned buildings made the fine hairs on her arms and nape stand on end.
Absently, she began to toy with her hair, fingers skimming over the beads and feathers woven into the strands, grimacing ruefully at the still slightly brittle ends. Bloody mages and their fireballs.

She heard muffled shouting coming from inside a small shop – a book shop, by the looks of it – and automatically crossed to the other side of the street in case the brewing fight spilled out onto the street. No need to get knocked over, after all. Odd place for a fight to start though, she mused.

At this distance, she could just about smell the sea; the pungent stink of the docks not too strong as to overpower the salt yet.

Ignoring the raised voices as she passed the door, Willow smiled, wondering how Kaz and Veraz were doing – if they had taken to piracy, like she had, or if they had made completely new lives for themselves in their new city. If they were travelling the seas, maybe today they would pull into port? It would be good to see them again.

[Ember Griswald]

Her back pressed against the old stone around the back of a small house. Had she been in an area secluded from the bustling communities of the Capital, she wouldn't have been afraid to defend herself, but what fool would use their magic in the middle of a market place like that? She'd be daft to do such a thing! Multiple people around to identify her to any other passing Templars looking for her head? She couldn't have that. Especially if she possibly put their lives in danger.

Ember turned her head ever so slightly to peer around the corner, and get a quick look at the Templars that were previously hot on her trail. She caught a glimpse of them walking by, until one of them turned their heads in her direction. Within a split second Ember reacted and returned her face forward. She closed her eyes tight, hoping and praying that they didn't see her, but it was too much to hope for. Even standing there shutting her eyes tight, she could hear the clink of armor and the crunch of footsteps growing closer. She reopened her eyes and carefully looked around to find a place she could possibly hide, and there was no refuge in sight, but she also knew running around the series of houses could prove more useful than standing there in plain sight.

At this point, the clink and clank of armor had stopped, as well as the footsteps, but when she looked over her shoulder once more she stared eye to eye with the man through the helmet. The mage didn't hesitate to make a run for it, immediately leaving the stone wall and running as fast as she could, winding in and out of the series of houses along this alley.

"You've got nowhere to hide, Mage!" She heard the low growl of one of the Templars running behind her, but there was still enough distance between them that proved to hold some hope. She didn't stop running either, taking lefts and rights whenever possible, taking another route down another street branching from the market district until the sight of the docks came into view. In all of her time in Ferelden outside of the tower, she had never once needed to come into this part of the city. She never planned on leaving the country and if she had, she'd probably do it by foot. Ship was too risky, but on your feet you had a chance of getting away and keeping to the shadows.

Now if only she could do the same here. She was practically cursing at herself for even coming into the city. Such a place, even in a country where the Templar order had grown strong, wasn't a place for an apostate.

She kept running and running, passing warehouses and the scent of the sea wafting through her nose. Her whole life, she had never seen the ocean. She didn't remember her life in Tevinter, and she spent 22 years inside the Circle. Only now was she getting her first glimpses of the outside world. When she finally stopped to see the water, she had realized that the Templars were no longer behind her, but someone else was near who seemed to be just as entranced by the waters as she had. She quickly turned away though, hoping not to draw attention to herself. She didn't need more people chasing after her, or those Templars that she finally lost.

[Willow]

Willow dodged around a couple of sailors carrying a crate, smiling slightly when she heard their quarter master bellowing profanities at them. Didn’t do to be late on the first day on the job.

With a contented sigh, she slouched against the harbour wall, leaning her forearms on the worn stone and looking out to sea.

It was a good day for sailing; a gentle wind and clear skies; no storms on the horizon. She could see gulls flocking midway to the horizon, swarming around a small fishing boat. The birds were buggers for stealing fish out of the nets – or clean off the line of fishermen.

Through the sound of shouting, cawing and slapping waves, Willow heard footsteps approaching, running on the cobbles.

She half-turned her head, looking over her shoulder at the side-street behind her and to her right, watching as a small, red-haired woman came tearing out of the alley.

As the woman came level with her, standing several feet away and staring out at the ocean, Willow let her eyes skim forwards again. They were aimed out at the waves, but were unfocused as she relied on her ears.

From the way the woman had been running – flat out, her face tense, worried – she was being chased. There was no irritation or impatience that would have indicated the woman was simply late for something. Besides, if you’re late, you don’t stop to stare at the sights.

Though she listened closely, Willow couldn’t hear the sound of any more running footsteps or irate shouting. Not yet, anyway.

Another quick glance at the woman yielded some more information. Though her clothes were subtle enough, it was rare for anyone who wasn’t a mage to wield a staff.

A mage, running away from someone. In the current climate of near-war, most likely an apostate, hunted by Templars.

Willow let her eyes drop to her hands, resting loosely on top of the wall. The slight dip of her head let some of the longer strands of her hair fall against her fingers, and she idly began toying with the beads and feathers tied into them.

Just being a mage – possibly an apostate – didn’t mean they were a blood mage. Chances were it was just someone who wanted their freedom, and who didn’t think slitting their wrists and calling up demons solved all their problems.

There was always that chance, though.

‘Grow up,’ Willow thought to herself, frowning.

The sound of clanking armour reached her ears.

She glanced back towards the alley. She couldn’t see anyone yet, but turning her head made the sounds a little clearer.

There was definitely someone in heavy armour in the alley.

Alright, decision time. If any demonic friends of hers start popping up, Willow could always leg it and let the Templars deal with it, after getting a hit or two in herself on principle of course. If not, then she could help the woman escape confinement and possibly death – the pirate didn’t know much about how the Templars treated illegal mages these days.

Right. Hurrying would be good now.

“Hey,” she said, pitching her voice to carry to the other woman but no further. “If the people I can hear back there are after you, running would be a good idea. I can lead you,” she said, pushing away from the wall and reflexively checking her swords and daggers were still in place. Couldn’t be too careful, after all.

[Ember Griswald]

She flinched when the soft voice beside her broke the calm silence around them. It was funny how absolutely calming the water was. She never imagined something could put her into a trance like that. It was a sound unlike any other. There was a beautiful sound to trees blowing in the wind; there were sounds of the forest that were calming in itself, the chirps of the birds, sounds of the wildlife, the light blowing of the wind through the trees. But none of them were like the sounds of the ocean.

Ember turned her head to get another look at the owner of the voice; the same woman she saw when she first ran here. At first she would have asked what she wanted. She was practically on the defense, getting ready to grab her staff for fear that she was a Templar. Of course, she wasn't wearing armour, but that was a perfect decoy. Heck, what was she thinking? Had she really stooped this low to go forming all sorts of conspiracy theories involving undercover Templars? One could never be too safe, but that was too far for Ember.

That was when the woman continued, telling her of 'people' coming after her and leading her to safety. She must have been so entranced by the ocean that she hadn't even heard the sounds of the distant Templars. And here she was a second ago getting ready to falsely claim this woman standing before her was a Templar.

"You'd be willing to help an Apostate?" She asked, assuming that the woman already gathered that she was a mage. She was hesitant at first, but when she looked back into the alley and caught the glimpse of a shiny of chest plate in the distance, she realized she really had no other options at this point. This woman most likely knew the area better than she did, it was better than just standing here. waiting for her death. "Al-Alright. Thank you," a small smile appeared across her face as he moved out of the way and waited for the woman to take lead.

[Willow]

‘Skittish,’ Willow noted as the shorter woman flinched and spun to face her. ‘Definitely being chased.’

Willow kept her muscles loose, even as the other woman tensed. She lifted one of her hands in a silent request for patience, and generally tried to appear as non-threatening as she could with two swords strapped to her back.

The red-haired mage seemed to relax – or at least become less likely to fry her – as Willow spoke. Progress, at least.

As she straightened, Willow glanced back at the alley. She could see movement now, if not colours yet. Not long now before the Templars spotted their target.

Despite the undercurrent of tension in her voice and thrumming through her muscles as she prepared to run, Willow gave a brief bark of a laugh at the mage’s question.

“Apostate or not, you’re human, aren’t you? Besides, I’ve spent enough nights bored out of my skull in a simple jail cell to know that a lifetime locked up would be no fun...if you even reached the tower, anyway,” she said, already half turning from the mage.

It was a good job they were on the docks, really. Willow knew the area better than most dockhands, and the possible routes spooled out in her mind as the mage gave a shaky agreement.

Willow managed a distracted smile and a quick ‘let's go’, before taking off down the harbour at a run. She checked her pace for a few steps, making sure the older woman was keeping up, then let her stride lengthen as shouts rang out behind them and Willow took a sharp corner into another alley.

So much for a peaceful day.


[OOC: Sorry for the short post, not feeling too well today. Hope the quality's alright.]

[Ember Griswald]

Well, one thing was for, this woman definitely wasn't a law-abiding Andrastian. At least none of the kind she had met before. Apostates were practically considered heathens, especially now. One had blown up a Chantry, killed many innocents along with the Gland Cleric. That's probably the worst offense someone can do against the Chantry. Many considered that man a hero, but it sure as hell didn't leave a good impression on the rest of the population of mages.

Ember remembered that man too, from her time in the Circle. He wasn't too much older than her. He practically broke the record for times escaping the Circle. Anders was his name.

She quickly followed suit behind the woman when she started running. Periodically looking behind her to make sure that the Templars hadn't gained any distance on them. Thankfully, they hadn't, but she could certainly hear their shouts. She didn't pay enough attention to hear what they were saying though, she was too busy focusing on escaping to worry about their hollers.

"I sure hope this destination of yours is close!" Ember called to the other woman as she looked behind her once again, now being able to make out all of their features and the details of their armor. She couldn't let them get any closer.

[OOC: Don't worry! Mine was too!]

[Willow]

Once she started running, Willow didn’t look back. She’d learned the hard way it only slowed you down. Besides, the mage was checking behind them, so if anything unexpected happened, she’d say something. As long as she didn’t run headfirst into a wall because she wasn’t looking where she was going, Willow would leave her to it and focused on threading her way through the alleys at random.

She kept her ears open though, and snorted a laugh when the mage raised her voice.

“Destination? I’m just running til they get lost!” She called back, making a sharp turn to the right, half skidding and nearly shoulder-ramming the wall on the way past. She rebounded off the other side of the alley and kept going, ignoring the bruises on both shoulders and grazes on her hands. The latter she barely felt anyway; years of calluses dulled the pain somewhat.

Still, the mage probably wasn’t used to running that far. Maybe they should make for a destination, as opposed to simply running and hiding in shadows as Willow was wont to do when dodging the law.

“Alright, going to head for one of the inns near here. Bit of a rough place, but if we get in there fast the Templars should run straight past. If not, everyone in there will be up for a brawl and we can jump out a window while they distract the tin cans. That okay with you?” She asked, already changing route regardless. It’s not like the mage would say no to a potential hiding place, no matter how unsavoury. Asking was just the polite thing to do, even if there was only one answer.

[Ember Griswald]

"W-wait, what?" When the woman said there was no destination, it definitely caught Ember off guard. She thought the woman actually knew a place to take her for safety! Not running around aimlessly in the docks was something that Ember was already doing!

But then again, this woman knew the docks more than what she did. She knew the 'ins' and 'outs' of this place. She knew where the back alleys and shortcuts were that could easily lose the Templars fast behind them.

But that was when the woman mentioned an Inn that they could go to. She figured this could be a good idea. It was a place to stay, and the people there hardly cared who you were, as long as you had coin to give. You could even pay them off to keep your stay a secret in case Templars got involved. It wouldn't be the first Inn she stayed at and was never caught. It was fairly easy.

"Sounds like a plan. I just hope you know where you're going!" She shouted out as she quickly ran behind the brunette. They were starting to gain distance on the two Templars, but not enough to lose them yet. Ember could only hope that the Inn was somewhere around the corner, so as to lose them quickly. She didn't want to spend anymore time with them on her tail.

[Willow]

Willow laughed and veered left.

“I do now,” she said, jumping over an empty, toppled barrel behind a shop without breaking stride. “Not far now, at least,” she added, slowing only slightly to make sure the mage had cleared the barrel alright before charging off again.

Willow led them through another few sharp corners and over a falling-apart wooden fence before emerging behind The Captain’s Daughter inn.

The back door was locked and barricaded – and possibly broken, come to think of it; it always had been, as far as the pirate was concerned.

She led the red-haired woman straight past it to the slightly wider alley beside it. The gap was blocked by crates, but Willow simply took them at a run and vaulted over, landing in a wider, slightly more trafficked street.

She waited for the mage to follow her over then turned and walked, perfectly calmly except for her deepened breathing, to the door.

“Look like you’ve got somewhere to be, head straight for the bar, and keep your coin-purse somewhere hard to reach. Oh, and if someone tries to paw at you, please don’t fry them or anything like that. Punch them if you want; that way they’ll get thrown out and we won’t. Use magic, however, and we’re out on our arses and back to running,” Willow warned in a relatively light-hearted undertone as she opened the door and led the way inside.

She couldn’t motivate herself to be too worried about her fellow ruffians when there were Templars on their tail, but they were rowdy and rude and Willow had the impression that the mage wouldn’t have run into many of their ilk before. Not enough to know the proper etiquette of criminal interaction, anyway.

The inn was quite dimly lit, but Willow hastened to lead them away from the windows regardless, to make it harder for any curious Templars to spot them if they looked in.

She followed her own instructions and headed for the bar, carefully dodging drinks slopping out of their mugs and wandering hands. There were a couple of familiar faces in the hazy crowd, who Willow nodded to, but it wasn’t one of her usual haunts. She didn’t have the advantage of a group of friendly ruffians there in case anything went awry.

Oh well. She’d spent enough time on her own to be able to deal with a bunch of rowdy pirates and thieves. She belonged here, after all.

“You okay back there?” She asked over her shoulder, glancing back to the mage, partially to make sure there were no smoking eyebrows or frozen patrons.

[Ember Griswald]

Ember practically trampled over the barrel that the woman had just jumped over. It seemed this woman had more experience at this sort of thing than Ember did. With all her years at the castle, she didn't learn to how to do such things. So, when she quickly raised her legs to hop over it, she fell too short and landed on top of it. She didn't stick around to coddle her new wound, though. There wasn't enough time, and soon she'd be in safety where she could tend to it.

She quickly got up and followed fast behind the woman as they approached a door to a building named, The Captain's Daughter. She could only assume as much was an Inn, as she knew the odd names they gave these kind of establishments. The name was fitting either way, with it being near the docks. She could only wonder if there was a tavern near named "The Pirates Parot" or a brothel named "The Pirate's Booty".

To their dismay, it was locked. "I hope this place has more than one door!" Ember said as her face frowned while she stared at the handle, before they returned to running again. Was this a good sign?

They ran around a few more alleys, toppling over more crates and barrels, and rounded more corners, as they finally slowed a calm walk and approached another door to the same building. The woman gave Ember a quick run-down before they entered, appearing in a building full of people. Her friend headed over the bar, passing men getting themselves sloppy drunk and women having a good ol' time.

"Still here." Ember called out to the dark haired woman in front of her who was now sitting down at the bar, as the mage took a seat next to her. "Well, now that we're not preoccupied, my name's Ember," a smile formed on her face as she let out a hand for a shake.

[Willow]

“Well, they had a front door as well the last time I was here...” Willow said with an unperturbed smile. Even if it had magically disappeared, there were plenty of other bolt-holes on the docks, if you knew where to look.

As she led the way around to the front of the building, Willow listened for sounds of pursuit.

None anymore. That didn’t necessarily mean they’d lost the Templars, however. They were like bloodhounds, some of them.

She was relieved that they got through the door, crowd and to the bar without any magical mishaps. Willow had to rap a few knuckles with the pommel of her knife when the hands got too close, but there were no fireballs or lightning storms or anything actually worrying.

So far so good.

She sank onto a bar stool with a sigh, waving the barkeep over. A single bottle of spiced rum wouldn’t hurt.

“What you having? Alcohol, or...?” She asked distractedly as the mage took the seat beside her. It occurred to Willow to ask how well the mage handled her drink, but decided against it upon realising that might be a bit rude. If the mage had one glass then started smoking from her ears, Willow could always jump the bar the duck and cover, she guessed.

As the barkeep shuffled off with the order, the mage spoke.

“Oh, right!” She knew there was something she’d forgotten to do. “Yeah, names, sorry. I’m Willow,” she said, accepting the hand and giving it a firm shake.

As the barman returned and Willow doled out the coin for her drink, the pirate nodded back towards the door.

“So, was there any particular reason they were after you, or did they just recognise you for...what you are?” She asked, keeping her voice lowered. The warm, pleasant burn of rum might have helped with that.

Ideal place for dodgy conversations, bars. Too loud and rowdy to be overheard, and most people were too drunk to remember anything they did hear by the end of the night.

Or maybe that was just pirate taverns.

Still, it paid to be careful regardless. Templars and other groups had cottoned onto that little fact and sometimes either planted one of their own in bars to eavesdrop, or bribed actual patrons into being sober for a night and reporting what they heard.

As the thought drifted through her head, Willow did a cursory scan of the exits – mainly the windows. The back door was bust, so that was out. Still there were several good-sized windows around the room; easily wide enough for two slender women to climb through, providing they weren’t locked or too hard to break.

The patrons all looked genuine as well, although there were a few she couldn’t see properly. Still, the more drunk rascals in between herself, Ember and whoever might be after them the better.

[Ember Griswald]

This had to be her second time in or at a bar. After all her years in the Circle, she hadn't even been in the presence of one. It wasn't the first time she had her share of alcohol, however. Even after escaping from the tower, she was able to find the fruits in beverages. Still, as an apostate, she tended to say away from places like this. Sure, she could keep her identity a secret, but still she wasn't fond of large crowds. She grew worried and anxious when around a lot of people. It drew too much attention, and where there was a lot of attention, there were Templars.

Ember leaned farther into the counter of the bar, "Uh, yeah, I'll just have Rum, please," the redhead gave a small smile a the barkeep before returning her gaze upon the brunette next to her.

Ember quickly glanced around the lobby, seeing a few who had one too many drinks, along with plenty of chatter and laughter. There was even a woman here with her child. Why she would bring him to such a place, she would never understand. At least the woman wasn't as drunk as his father next to her. She more or less busier with the boy on her lap.

Other than these, she saw no-one, at the moment, who proved suspicious for her. No-one who looked as if they were hunting down mages. Of course, anyone who was given a reward would quickly turn her in, but thankfully, there wasn't a bounty on her head, nor did anyone seem to recognize her.

She turned back to her new friend, "Ah, they just caught me at the wrong time. Busy defending myself from danger, using the only weapon I have." That much was true, she caught the eye of a bandit, and as he was trying to strangle her to death, she used her magic to save herself. What else would a mage do in such a situation. She never wished to kill anyone, she had never killed a man in her life, but if her life was in danger, well... What would anyone else do? If they were given the power of magic in such a situation, they'd probably do the same as her.

[Willow]

With a sigh, Willow swivelled around on her stool to rest her back against the bar, idly watching the patrons as she savoured her drink. Not bad for a poky little tavern.

With a grimace and a shrug, she nodded at Ember’s explanation.

“Can’t blame you for that. It’s all anyone would do, really. Might be worth learning how to defend yourself with more...conventional methods, though. People have no reason to chase you, that way. You’ve already got a decent weapon with you,” she said, nodding at the staff slung over the mage’s back.

“You just need to learn how to use it in a different way. It only takes one good whack over the head to lay someone out,” she said, grinning as she remembered a few notable times she’d done that exact thing to someone. Admittedly, not with a mage’s staff, but cracking someone’s head against a bar or a tree worked just as well.

With another draught of rum, Willow shifted slightly so that the edge of the bar wasn’t digging into her shoulder blade.

“Anyway, where were you going? Before you were chased, I mean. Might be able to get you there without any more unwanted hassle,” she offered. Hey, she may as well. If she walked off now, the mage could be back to running for her life within the next hour.

Alright, she’d probably end up running even if Willow was there, but at least Willow knew where to run, and the fastest way to their destination.

Although, that usually involved hopping several fences. Ember might prefer an easier route to a faster one, if the knock she’d taken on the barrel on the way here was anything to go by.

“How’s the leg, by the way? You hit it while we were running, didn’t you?” She asked, nodding to the mage’s shins.

[Terra Ashalle]

Ah Denerim. The capital of Fereldan. It had been quite some time since she had been here and honestly, she wasn't all too keen on returning. If it wasn't for the cold and rain of the oncoming winter the elven girl would have stayed well away. As it was, she found herself with a tent hardly worth calling a tent at all and very few supplies. The cold of late autumn ensured fewer deer would be around to hunt and though she was not against killing the odd halla to survive, she wasn't keen on doing so. It was because of this, the thief found herself in her hometown.

She sighed, staring at the city gates and the guards who stood watch on the high walls surrounding it. Maybe she shouldn't have returned, but she was desperate and hopefully her old house wasn't taken over by squatters or something. If by chance her small home in the alienage was in use, she could always steal a few coins and stay at an inn someplace. Anywhere that had a bed was a welcome change. But, first things first, she had to get inside.

Now, nothing was stopping her. Not physically anyway, but the blonde elf found herself staring blankly at the open gates unable to move. A guard spotted her and moved from his post, calling out to her; "hey elf, in or out?" Oh she hated being defined by her ears. Pulling her hair over her ears to conceal them, she glanced toward the guard uncertainly. She knew Templars were probably rife what with what had happened in Kirkwall - Terra knew very little about it since she had found herself in solitude for many years but even she had noticed the increase in their forces. That was not what scared her, though. Her fathers shield lay easily over her back and a sword hung at her waist. Despite being a Mage, she could defend herself with a sword and shield. Terra had long since mastered the ability to hide what she truly was. No, what scared her was the memories of the place.

Closing her eyes and exhaling, she tried to calm herself. "In." She replied with an air of fake confidence toward the guard, her words ment only to c,mans her shaking legs and to urge herself forward. She stepped inside. First time in ten years, by her estimate. First time since...Well she didn't want to think about it.

Her strides took her through the city almost blindly, not wanting to recall anything about her old home for the time being. Her mind was elsewhere and her body moved almost subconsciously to the alienage. Once inside, she couldn't escape the memories. Of her mother, who's mind had been forced into darkness and her body forced into death, and her father. Her father who had taut her to hide her powers and trained her in the art of swordplay. She smiled at that particular memory, but after a bit of exploration she found her old home long since taken over by a young elven family. Let them live in peace, she thought. They knew nothing of what had happened in those walls. Let it remain that way.

With a feint, almost wistful smile, she left the alienage and headed toward the nearest bar. She needed a stiff drink with what little money she had - not to mention the potential for earning a few coin. That was how to came to be in the Captains Daughter Inn. She could hopefully stay there the night.

It was an hour or so later that Terra spotted the most mundane, yet oddly interesting, sight. Sipping her gin, she watched as a pair of woman strode into the bar. One, raven haired and beautiful, walked with an air of confidence yet her breaths seemed faster than someone walking casualy from the streets. The other sported a wild red mane of hair and seemed nervous, like a bunny of sorts. A bunny with a mane. Her head tilted slightly. They seemed distracted. Brushing her hair over her ears as was a habit of hers, Terra turned back away from them. They were close to her on the bar but she still had to strain her ears - it might have been rude, but for someone who spent the last ten years travelling primarily alone, a good tale was hard to come by. She was curious and didn't exactly expect what she heard.

“So, was there any particular reason they were after you, or did they just recognise you for...what you are?" She heard, coming from one of the woman. The hushed voices were hidden we'll under the merry chimes of the patrons, but Terra managed to make out the second woman's response. It was obvious, from that, what the second woman was and Terra felt herself frown. She did feel for other mages, since she knew how it felt to be discriminated not only for that, but for her race, but she had the common sense to hide it. Then again, even that was not fool proof. If she got too angry or emotional...well she would give herself away. She couldn't control herself. One of the fatal flaws of having no training in her gift.

The first woman spoke again, stating the Mage should use more conventuals means of fighting. Terra nodded to herself. It was enough to go unnoticed just to wear a sword, really. She turned t the woman. Apparently the red head was the Mage, for the first woman was still speaking. "Carrying a staff even as a bludgeon is sort of a big giveaway, don't you think?" She mused out loud, elbow on the bar, propping up her chin she she sipped her booze. A smirk twitched at her lips. She was unused to this thing called 'subtlety'.

Oh, there ain't no rest for the wicked,
Money don't grow on trees,

[Ember Griswald]

She listened to the woman who now presented herself as 'Willow', as she sat next to her taking another sip of her rum. There was a drunken man next to her who kept bumping into her. His grunts rumbling through with every impact, as he mumbled away with the pretty young thing on the other side. Ember couldn't get a good look at the girl, however, only hearing her tiny voice cut through after his. From the sounds of it, she was a barmaid, one who was probably trying to do her job, but instead being hassled by a drunkard.

She figured this was a common occurrence in taverns.

The redhead diverted her attention back to her friend, trying to ignore the man on her other side as he tended to an innocent, and listen to the end of Willow's speech. She would admit it was good advice, for some who didn't spend their whole life using magic. She had learned to control it, sure, she excelled in all of her classes, but she spent her whole life with magic. She wasn't trained in any other kind of combat. When she was faced with danger, her first instinct was to pull out her staff and set them aflame. It wasn't like she hadn't been in hand-to-hand combat, but it was hard to stick to her hand when she had the power of fire at her fingertips.

"I was actually heading West, to Andorals Reach, it just seems it's going to be a lot more trouble than anticipated." She wasn't worried about being spotted while in the bar of the Inn. Most here were too drunk or busy to take noticed of her staff resting in her lap. She kept her cloak wrapped over it, so as to not make it more noticeable. But, her also took on an appearance that was a mix between a spear and a glaive. It could just as easily be another weapon.

"Oi, my leg is... Alright. It's sore, but I don't think it's broken. If I'm lucky, I'll just have a good sized bruise." Ember replied to the woman's question as she lightly probed the spot with her fingers. There was a bit of tingly pain that shot from the spot as she lightly pressed her fingers.

She was caught off guard, however, when another near the two spoke up, clearly listening in to their conversation. Ember turned around to where the voice came from, noticing that the drunken man and the barmaid that were previously there, were now gone. Replaced by a smaller woman with bright blonde hair. Ember normally did keep her staff hidden, but with recent events, her mind was too preoccupied to worry about putting her staff back. When you're being chased by Templars, it was the last thing you were worried about.Should she respond? Or should she let it go? Normally, she probably would have just turned back around, but something drew her to make at least one comment. "When you have Templars chasing you, putting your staff away isn't exactly the first thing on your mind." She said in a hushed tone so that others couldn't hear, her fingers tightening over the staff underneath the cloak on her lap.