Snippet #1579591

The only option now is to prepare, someone somewhere will recognize me eventually, I just need the right plan when the time finally arrives.

"I've heard rumors messare." The woman's Starkhaven accent was evident. "They say that apostate Champion of Kirkwall is rumored to be in Denerim, right now, in fact. Know about any truth to these?" It was obvious that the woman knew who he was, providing a rather dangerous situation for The Champion.

Makers breath that was fast, looks like I have to burn this place down after all. Before he moved or even acknowledged the foolish woman, he turned up the second mug of ale and graciously finished it off. In an uninspired gesture, he reached for his staff, but the woman retorted before he could remove it, he stopped, if only for the sake of semantics alone, had he been in a worse mood, the woman would be nothing more than a pile of ashes by now, but he humored her and let her speak before he made his move.

"Ah-ah, come now...we don't want to cause a big commotion now do we? What, do you intend to burn the whole city of Denerim? Now that won't be keeping a low profile now would it?

"Seeing as I'm probably the only mage for thousands of miles, and templars are so few these days, there is very little anyone could do if I wanted to burn this cesspool to the ground." He could tell the woman was far to interested in him for just another attempt at his life, she wanted something from him, what else is new.

"I just have something to discuss with you in private, and I swear on my King Sebastian's life-blood that I would dare not breathe a word of the information I posses to anyone." Just as he thought, 'I have a problem that only you can solve and I'm running out of time,' they all started this way, but this was a different time and a different Hawke, and the woman had no idea how lucky she would be if she got to walk away disappointed.

"Sebastian is a fool, he attacked me due to differing opinions of the Chantry, and the ONLY reason he still exsists for you to call 'King' is because his legs were swifter than mine that day, tis the natural defense of a coward."

Standing, Hawke started for the door, the familiar clinking of the steel armor and occasional jingle of his chain-mail shirt were rhythmic and almost sounded like music as he walked. Before he opened the door, he looked back to the woman and nodded his head as a gesture to follow, then exited back out into the alleyway. Turning, he crept into the space between the bar and the adjacent building, effectively hiding him, and whatever the woman had to say, from the eyes and ears of the street.