Yasemar Weisinger @LancesHigh

“I’m not to gain a wink of sleep with my son carried on my back, am I? If only he would stop ‘is crying at night. Nothing I can do will soothe him. He’s...He’s ‘is father’s child.”

“Homecoming.” Read: docs.google.com/document/d/19i…

@CureTheCalling -apologetic. “I am sorry. What is a name you go by? I am Yasemar.” As prickly and boorish as this Qunari could be, she had to admit to herself that she had missed simple chats, as difficult as it could be to force these strange words out. She would rather not travel in silence.

@CureTheCalling - reprimand in Tabris’ voice. She had not meant to offend, but it was clear she had. Swallowing her pride, however, was simple enough. “Peh. I’ll not talk on Qun,” she said, masking the vitriol in her voice as she looked back at her companion with a tone she hoped was -

@CureTheCalling - Qunari who’s sit and say and do nothing while Thedas burns away?! Bah! Vashedan!” She spat the insult with such venom, it was as clear as the sky above them why this woman had left the Qun, and left it willingly.

@CureTheCalling - Wardens were good, nice to me. Did not care that I am Tal-Vashoth. Others care too much. Say I am an coward. I ask you THIS, elf!” Yasemar leaned close to her, leaning down to sneer in her face, still walking. “Who’s bigger coward? Some person who fights the Darkspawn or -

@CureTheCalling - as it ran over the plate, drawing attention to a detail she hadn’t yet noticed. She knew that griffon, and she knew it well. “Grey Warden? You?” Her dark scowl lightened just a little. “I know them. Fight with some in Blight time.” Now this was getting interesting.

@CureTheCalling -shit or run the risk of belittling her. “Free...Lance? Oh, yes. Don’t work for a company. I don’t like people.” It was difficult to tell how much of her blunt demeanor came from an unfamiliarity with the language and how much of it was just her. She eyed the elf’s hand -

@CureTheCalling -rises.” And while her trustworthy inner voice was screaming at her to move on like a petulant child, Yasemar’s boots remained planted in place on the cobblestone street.

@CureTheCalling -why she cared in the first place. Everyone must fend for themselves, and the elf was no different, let her figure out her troubles on her own. Just grab your things and walk away before you get dragged into... “Know an blacksmith. Better blacksmith. East of here as the sun -

@CureTheCalling -them when they did, but she had grown tired of trying to get anything other than a dismissive huff out of these Orlesians. This woman seemed more her style. And she was damn cute.

@CureTheCalling -chest in height, so Yasemar had to look almost straight down. Who knew one so small could be so loud. “Having trouble?” She asked, her deep, accented voice as out of place in their surroundings as she was. She was rarely one to start conversations, much less pay attention to -