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Laughter echoed through the Hanged Man as mugs filled with warm, cheap ale clinked, the group of companions eagerly downing their share. The small table was crowded, surrounded by Elia and Evangeline Hawke, Isabela, and Anders. Their day had certainly been an adventurous one, journeying into the Bone Pit to get rid of a dragon problem, which led to the Hawke twins to dip into the savings for their journey to the Deep Roads, in order to buy their party drinks.
“Did you see it when she flapped her wings! Oh man, it nearly bowled me over!” Elia laughed, the drink making her giddy. She earned an eye roll from her sister.
“Oh please!” Eve scorned lightly, giving Elia a gentle kick. “You were this close to passing out!” Her thumb and forefinger were held up, barely a quarter of an inch between them.
“But I didn’t! Thanks, Handy Andy!” Elia grinned to Anders, clinking her glass against his and earning another eye roll, this time from the blond mage.
“Please don’t call me that.”
“Sorry, Handers Anders.”
“Just... Anders.”
“Whatever," Elia dismissed with a sip of her ale.
"You know what?” Isabela started, resting her elbows on the table. “I think we should go and celebrate in style. I mean, the Hanged Man is lovely , but I’m sure there’s some better delights Kirkwall has to offer.”
“We could go to the Blooming Rose.” Elia suggested. “I like that place.”
“No… Please no.” Eve shook her head. “Not after last time. I mean… you could have just not taken me last time.”
Elia poked out her tongue. “Look, I said I was going to get into Mischief, it’s not my fault you didn’t know Mischief worked there.”
Eve gave an irate sigh. “You could have at least mentioned she was a person.”
“You could have asked. Now then, how about we go for a walk and see where the night takes us?” Elia grinned.
And so Isabela, Elia, and Eve found themselves walking the streets of Lowtown after dark (Anders had decided to go back to Darktown for the night), the moon casting enough light to see in the dim dusty streets, although the three rogues all kept hands on their daggers, ready to fight in case any of Lowtown’s notorious thugs decided to prey on them. The crisp night air and the smell of the sea began to lead Isabela - and consequently the whole group - towards the docks.
A group of sailors were sat by one of the many warehouses, sharing liquor and laughs, using a strange device to mark one another’s skin - a dwarven-made tattoo needle. Seeing the group pass by, one of the sailors looked up, laughing. “Hey, girls! Wha’re pretty things like you doin’ out this late?”
“Why, we killed a dragon today, so we’re looking to celebrate.” Elia said, nonchalantly pulling a dagger from its sheath, twirling it around in her hand in case the sailors decided to try anything.
“A dragon? Those bloody things’re extinct!” Another sailor exclaimed. “You’se lying!”
“Nah, over at the Bone Pit.” Isabela shrugged, her hands resting on her hips, eyeing the sailors. “So, what are you boys up to this evening? Hard drinks and tattoos, huh? Always fun. Wouldn’t suggest inking any genitals - looking at you there.” the pirate captain gestured to one of the sailors’ half-finished works on his friend’s shoulder, clearly the beginnings of a classic cock-and-balls.
“Tattoos?” Elia chirped up, a wicked grin spreading across her permanently-inked face. “I love tattoos! Been years since my last one.”
“Yeah, you wailed like a baby if I remember.” Eve teased lightly.
Elia poked her tongue out in response. “Won't get my face done this time.”
“Oi! Ne’er said you could take my inker!” One of the sailors yelled in defence, reaching to yank the tattoo needle from his comrade’s hand. His drunken grasp failed him, and as he pulled, the tattoo pen sailed through the air, caught by Isabela’s lightning reflexes.
“Thanks boys!” Elia blew the sailors a kiss as she and her other companions followed Isabela into the night, cackling wildly at their brilliant heist.
It wasn't a particularly dignified position, bent over Isabela’s knee back in her rented room in the hanged man, but Elia had certainly been in less dignified positions before. She winced as the dwarven-made machine stabbed her skin, gripping her sister’s hand.
“Hold still, sweet cheeks.” Isabela soothed, focusing on her work. She’d used a similar tattoo gun before, but drawing dragons wasn't really the easiest thing to do with a few drinks in you. “Thought you wanted a dragon, not a sloppy lizard.”
Elia poked her tongue out to express her distaste for lizards. “Just the dragon, Bela.”
“What's even the point of this?” Eve asked, wincing as Elia tightly squeezed her hand.
“Dragons are cool and I’m cool.” Elia answered simply through clenched teeth. “And if I ever kill another dragon I can get another one tattooed. We did a cool thing and I'm celebrating. Shut up, Evie.”
“Calm down.” Evangeline rolled her eyes. Maybe she shouldn't have let her drunken sister do this. Glancing down at Isabela’s work, however, she knew there was no going back now - just a little more filling in of black ink.
“And…. Done.” Isabela set the pen down beside her, giving Elia a light spank to let her know it was time to get up. “I think I did alright. Looks like a dragon, at least. Seen worse.”
Elia walked across the room to Isabela’s dresser, decorated with all sorts of treasures. She grabbed an elegant handheld mirror, twisting about to get a good look at her new tattoo. A black dragon, wings spread in flight, decorated her lower back, the tail dipping to where she usually wore her breeches. The design was more simplistic and stylised rather than realistic, which matched the Mabari on her right arm rather nicely. The redhead squealed, bounding across the room to Isabela, giving her a hug. “I love it!”
"Knew you would. Now about your payment…”
And with that, Evangeline left, letting the two girls ‘resolve Elia’s debt’ in peace.