[ No jokes from Nell, a brisk focus in her voice he'll recognize from battles past even at this low volume. ]
Hide your hand, get rid of anything that marks you Inquisition. Do you recognize anything around you? Anything notable? We're heading for the port, we'll come meet you.
[ Half-busy with wisp nonsense, Kostos pauses to say, ] I remember, [ in case Nell doesn't. He's much better with cities than wilderness. There are no lions in cities. ]
Toward the tower. The one that is falling over.
[ Or not falling over, as it were, because of Tevinters and their fancy architectural stop-gaps. But it looks like it is about to fall over, forever.
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[ No jokes from Nell, a brisk focus in her voice he'll recognize from battles past even at this low volume. ]
Hide your hand, get rid of anything that marks you Inquisition. Do you recognize anything around you? Anything notable? We're heading for the port, we'll come meet you.
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[ More noise in the background, the sound of people colliding, Gareth murmuring apologies as he hustles through them. ]
This is Benedict's fault. He made me dress nice. I bet if I looked like I didn't own a single gold coin, they'd never have noticed me.
Uh--Street! A market street? I think this is where they had that mage with the fire breathing. With the dragon.
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Toward the tower. The one that is falling over.
[ Or not falling over, as it were, because of Tevinters and their fancy architectural stop-gaps. But it looks like it is about to fall over, forever.
To Nell: ] When it's clear—
[ If it clears. It might not. ]
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[ Now audible in the background: The clanking of armored men racing after him, along with a few shouts to try cutting his route off. ]
You know, I could try just burning them to the ground. Or electrocuting them. Barbecue guard, a perfect accompaniment to any picnic.
[ His tone has an edge to it, his words more stream-of-thought nonsense than any real attempts at quips. He's nervous. ]