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[wardenbrosca]

Open to pretty much anything! I can noodle around with AUs, too. I love me some AUdling.

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[wardenbrosca]

"Oh, I'm sure he had to turn around and offer up his own ass instead," Zora shoots back easily. Now it's time to break out the flask- a special treat, surely, that she doesn't break out for just anyone.

She uncaps it with her teeth and spits out the cork somewhere she knows Zev will find it, uncaring of her bad manners in front of fancy-ass nobles. Then she knocks back a swig, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and offers it up to Cousland.

"That way, he's got both his hands free."

[carryingthebanner]

Once, she'd had have been shocked. This behaviour and this talk was for the barracks and training yard, not a meeting. Certainly, she shouldn't be indulging herself. She was too young, the youngest daughter of a respected, cultured pair of war heroes. But things change, and she's grown adapt at fitting in more with the rougher life and the rougher people she's around. No one would mistake her for anything other than a noble, and she's not hiding it. But she can make crass jokes and filthy insults when the situation warrants it.

For the people who have thrown the country into bloody chaos? Yeah, she's going to be crass about them.

And, yes, she's going to accept the flask with a sharp grin, lift it up in a little toast, and knock back a swig of her own.

She's gotten used to harder liquor, too.

"So," Cousland says, licking the alcohol from her lips with quick little darts of her tongue, "Isolde's sent out a search for an item that may, or may not, exist. And if it does, is probably hidden at the bottom of some forgotten ruin?"

She thinks of all the other uses for trained, loyal knights, and takes another swig of Brosca's flask before handing it back.

[wardenbrosca]

"That's about the size of it." Zora takes the flask back and pretends not to notice that Zevran has started to pour out some of his brandy- not the good stuff, mind, but the cheap shit they were able to buy off traders on the road, or steal from camps they passed.

"Thing is?" Brosca pauses for effect, gesturing vaguely with the flask to ensure she has the room's full attention. "It's not even the most fucked-up thing about Redcliffe lately. Doesn't break the top five."

Behind her, Alistair coughs and clears his throat conspicuously. An obvious but silent shut up, Zora.

[carryingthebanner]

Cousland ignores Alistair. He isn't the one who potential information, exaggerated or otherwise, from the arling of one of the (formerly, anyway) most powerful men in the country. She doesn't, however, ignore Zevran and his own bottle of drink. To him, she winks.

She can be, on occasion, shameless.

"Doesn't break the top five," Cousland repeats. "All right, do tell. You can't leave me hanging like that."

Brosca can, obviously, and she's careful to make her tone light enough to hopefully convey that she's not trying to order or threaten the girl. But still.

Gossip is gossip.

[wardenbrosca]

Zora considers the balance of Alistair's excellent point about shutting up versus what she could get from this new ally, with the unbridled fun of gossiping.

Okay.

She can do this. She can do this without accidentally bringing shitty Chantry wrath down on the Arl of Redcliffe. Right?

"Okay, so, let's just say," she began carefully, with uncharacteristic caution. "That Loghain's choice of assassins is a bit, um- bloody. Redcliffe has become a much more... magical place."

Subtle.