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maybe someone in this city of assassins might buy the thing for its alchemical properties.
"If it's not too personal to ask, what kind of magic do you use? I've got a friend who's great at starting fires." She chuckles, shaking her head. "He's... not so great at putting them out, though."
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"I'm not scared of mages, if that's what you're worried about." Meraad smiles. "I think magic's fascinating."
She turns the peach pit over between her fingers, satisfied she's scraped it clean, before setting it down on the bench between them. Revna might have a use for it herself, or
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Carefully, Meraad cuts the last of the fruit from around the pit and tosses the pieces to the waiting birds. She glances back at Revna, eyes lingering on the slight pinkness in her cheeks. Clearly the woman hadn't expected to be asked so directly.
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Had to replace the haft a couple of times but the blade hasn't let me down yet."
Looking from the tiny knife in Revna's hand to the lack of visible weapons at her hips or on her back, Meraad raises a curious eyebrow as she meets her eyes. "You don't carry a weapon. I take it you're a mage, then?"
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tossing them one at a time up to the waiting flock.
"Oh, thanks." Grinning, she tilts the weapon to catch the light. Its curved edge of burnished steel gleams, the sunlight filtering between the leaves setting the inlaid gemstones shining. "I found it in a dragon's hoard years ago.
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Meraad watches the graceful movement of the elf's hands as she cuts the peach, laughing as the birds descend to fight over the treat. "There's enough for all of you!" Still chuckling, she turns her axe onto its side on her lap and uses the edge to slice off small pieces like Revna demonstrated,
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Perfect? Nah. Who'd want to be perfect, anyway?
Yeah, okay 😁 Dunno what an "emoji" is, though.
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with a smile of her own. "Mind showing me how small? I've, uh, not done this before. Don't want to put them off by doing it wrong."
She's fed birds before, of course, but this is different from throwing fish to the gulls... and she'd much rather not embarrass herself in front of her new friend.
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The little knife in Revna's hand looks like a toothpick in comparison, but Meraad suspects she knows how to use it. She certainly hopes so, if incidents like what happened earlier are a common occurrence.
Carefully, she cuts the peach in two on the axe's edge and holds one half out toward Revna
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and chattering of the birds drowns out the last faint remnants of market noise.
"Small pieces. Okay." She sets the peaches down on the bench between them, all except for one, and glances down at the axe resting at her hip, aware that it probably isn't best suited to a delicate task like this.
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Meraad smiles, closing the gate softly behind them both. She's never heard her name spoken with a Nevarran accent before, but she likes the sound of it.
The stone is cool as they sit, a pleasant contrast with the warmth already rising in the morning air. Above them, the rustling of the willow
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Not even sure what this is, but it looks delicious!
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She grins brightly. "Good to meet you, Revna. I'm Meraad."
She tucks the stray peach back into the crook of her arm as they reach the wrought-iron gate, holding it open for Revna to pass through. "After you."
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At least *someone* here doesn't seem to be terrified of her.
The elf's pretty smile catches her somewhat off-guard and she returns it, then realises with a jolt that she'd completely forgotten to introduce herself. "Ah, sorry. Got ahead of myself, huh?"
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There are more wary looks as the two of them pass through the crowd, but she ignores them. Apparently her bright armour and cheerful disposition aren't enough to reassure the locals she isn't another Antaam footsoldier.
Stealing a glance down at her companion, she smiles to herself.
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Meraad smiles, giving her a moment to gather herself. After what just happened, no wonder the woman is feeling a little skittish. "You're alright. No need to apologise."
She follows the elf's lead, idly tossing one of the bruised peaches up and catching it again in her free hand as they walk.
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Phew! Had me worried for a minute, there. *grins*
*sets down* You're fine.
*looks concerned* ...You are fine, right? No broken bones?
Couldn't agree more!
*bear hugs*
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She's not about to pass up an opportunity to make a friend in this new, not-entirely-welcoming city.
She shrugs with an easy grin, though it softens at the other woman's clearly anxious posture. "If you'd rather I help with the carrying and then leave you to it, I won't be offended. Promise."
Meraad follows her gaze, nodding with a smile at the sight of a few birds flitting among the clump of small trees. "More important than feeding the birds with a friendly stranger? Hardly."
A stranger who happens to be the first person not to react to Meraad's presence with fear or disdain.
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"Oh, I've definitely seen worse." She grins, raising her eyebrows in surprise at his offer. People aren't always so quick to offer such manners to a stranger, and to a heavily armed qunari at that. "Sure, why not! I bet you've got some interesting stories to tell after so long on the road."
She smiles in approval at the firm handshake. "Good to meet you, Nazaril. And yeah, docked just this morning. Captain's got some business further inland so for now... here I am."
She shrugs, grinning. "I can think of worse places to kill time. Although I haven't tasted the ale yet. Could be shite."
"Ah, another newcomer then. No point me asking you for directions," she jokes, relaxing a little at his smile. "Sorry to be so prickly. Weeks at sea can make you forget how to talk to regular people."
She holds out a hand to shake. "Fresh start? I'm Meraad."
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the ocean weather she's used to.
She takes a step, intending to head into the market, when she feels the prickle of eyes on her and turns to see an armoured stranger heading the same way, watching her curiously.
"Can I help you?" She raises an eyebrow, her expression amused rather than hostile.
As expected, the streets are busy; alive with the shouts of stallholders, playing children and barking dogs. Meraad follows her nose to the edge of the market, pausing beneath an archway lit with paper lanterns. Pretty, if a little impractical, but she supposes the climate here is more stable than
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