[Anders was behind the bar, minding it while Hawke was out doing... something or other. He always was a free spirit, that man. When the soaked stranger walked in, broad-shouldered and scruffy faced, long coat tails whipping in the wind, Anders almost mistook him for Hawke, but the warm light of the bar quickly saw him corrected.
Anders nodded, turning to the backbar to fetch a bottle of whiskey, made by the finest brewers in Thedas--- the dwarves of Orzammar. Pouring a glass, he set it in front of the newcomer.]
The water's no bother. We've already sprung two leaks anyway. That storm is mad, isn't it? This isn't even the worst of it. Last week it was doing much... weirder things. What a mess.
[Anders' DTF, a small orange tabby called Ser Pounce-a-Lot, came up to sniff the cowboy with interest, before electing it to be a good idea to lick water off the side of his boot.]
FEEL THE RAIN ON YOUR SKIN NO ONE ELSE CAN FEEL IT FOR YOU
Anders nodded, turning to the backbar to fetch a bottle of whiskey, made by the finest brewers in Thedas--- the dwarves of Orzammar. Pouring a glass, he set it in front of the newcomer.]
The water's no bother. We've already sprung two leaks anyway. That storm is mad, isn't it? This isn't even the worst of it. Last week it was doing much... weirder things. What a mess.
[Anders' DTF, a small orange tabby called Ser Pounce-a-Lot, came up to sniff the cowboy with interest, before electing it to be a good idea to lick water off the side of his boot.]