#which means everything is underlined in red where I chopped the -gs lmao

[midnightwind]

went back to look at some early writing I did for Renn if she was a recruitable companion instead of being Rook and I still like the first quest I wrote, even if she's changed quite a bit since then lol so hey, have a little over 1800 words of her inviting Rook out to walk Treviso

Companion Quest: Toe the Line

She was perched on the edge of her little crumbling island, legs swinging out over the abyss in time with the tune she was humming. Her head tilted a little towards Rook as they approached, eyes still fixed on the floating rubble in the distance.

“Hey, Rook. Been doing the dangerous pastime of thinkin’ lately and you know what? I think I'm a little homesick.” She finally tilted backwards a bit to look at them, a manic smile touching her lips as her legs stretched out. “Wanna have a lil’ stroll along the canals? I'll be waitin’ by the markets for ya.”

 In Treviso

Renn was waiting in one of the many dark corners that filled Treviso, slightly hunched as she leaned against the wall and watched the crowd almost hungrily. Her eyes flicked from person to person, noting where hands pulled coins from and spirited goods away to. The ghost of a smile rested on her lips as she watched couples press close together in their own dark corners, or as a child pulled a parent towards a stall of colorful toys. She seemed to linger on that last interaction before her gaze snapped to Rook's approach. Like a cat unfurling from a nap, she met them halfway, languid and lazy before looping her arm in theirs and turning them towards the markets proper.

“Partial lie, I need to buy somethin’ quick. You can help pick it out, though. And I'm thinkin’ we walk the rooftops. I'll show you the bay instead at the end.” She didn't wait for a response before pulling them along, the usual jaunty tune on her tongue causing her steps to bounce. “Keep an eye out for anythin’ Dalish, or elf-y in general, yeah?”

“Elf-y? I didn't realize your homesickness reached so deep.”

Her eyes seemed to darken ever so slightly, but the smile never wavered. “What can I say? Seein’ the Crossroads and the Blight and ‘my own gods’ in the flesh makes you think somethin’ hard about yourself. See enough things connected to roots and you start starin’ at your own feet.”

“Doesn't sound like you claim much ownership of the gods. It doesn't shake your beliefs or anything, seeing them cause such havoc?”

She snorted a laugh in response, dipping in her steps as the tune was lost. “Aye, sorry, but no. I came from a Dalish clan, but, well, let's just say there's no love lost between me and those ‘gods’ for now. I gave you a mission anyways. Seen anythin'?”

Rook blinked back at her before shaking their head, turning to survey the stalls. She would keep dodging and deflecting forever if they tried to press the issue. Simpler to just play along and circle back later. An alarming amount of stalls were selling some combination of far too many daggers or rich leathers in hues that seemed to melt into the dark. Several food stalls broke them up, enticing scents and warm spices filling the air, crushed together next to salvagers and scrap vendors. Their feet had paused at a table filled with slightly grimy pieces of jewelry, dirt and river sludge clinging to many. Renn let them scan the goods before tugging them along, clearly leading them to the next stall. It was bedecked with fragments of old elvhen runes, golden weaves resembling twisting roots and branches, shards of blue crystals akin to the devices they'd been utilizing in ruins, and several Halla statues. She'd known what shop to find the whole time, hadn't she…

“You don't want something more practical?”

She glanced over from the little Halla statue and a broken chain of glimmering leaves she’d been debating. “Hah? Practical in what sense?”

“Like… a knife or a little bit of armor. Maybe a nice pair of boots?”

It was her turn to blink at them before a wide grin lit up her face. “Rook… you do know the Dalish don't really do shoes, right?”

“Oh, I mean, yeah, but some-”

“No, darlin’, I don't need foot wraps or another dagger. I promise, I've plenty of sharp toys already.” She gave them a little wink. “Just somethin’ that screams ‘closed off forest people’ and such.”

They glanced down at the table before pointing at the statue she was holding. “Aren't Halla like, the universal symbol of the Dalish, then?”

She clicked her tongue. “Borin’, but I suppose the classics have their point.” A few gold coins seemed to appear out of thin air as she pocketed the little trinket. “Alright, time for the jaunt then. Hope you like ziplines!”

She was gone like an arrow from a bowstring, halfway up a trellis before Rook managed to catch up. She was barely suppressing her laugh as they huffed, dragging themself clumsily to the balcony she was perched on. It was a merry path of broken windows to rooftop patios onto the roofs themselves.

“You know what's funny, speakin’ of shoes? I used to hate ‘em.” A giggle bubbled free as she jumped to the next rooftop. “Hated how I couldn't feel the world or grip the ground as well. I remember Viago makin’ me run this convoluted obstacle course, chasin’ me with a stick and whackin’ my legs when I slipped or tripped. I got so tired of hearing ‘you're dead, idiot’ every day that I eventually tore the boots off and threw them at his head! He chased me like a demon fresh from hell, but I ran the whole course without losin’ a single step. Know what he did at the end?”

Rook was teetering on a beam stretched between the buildings, not daring to look up. “Uh, grudgingly say good job?”

She barked a sharp laugh, bending down to offer a hand up to the next rooftop. “He hit me over the head with the stick! Said he heard every obnoxiously loud step I took without the boots to muffle the noise. And then he hit me a few more times for throwin’ stuff at him.”

“Sounds… harsh.”

“Sure, but he was right. And I was bein’ a snot. If I wanted to be a Crow, I had to adjust. The whole trainin’ has to be harsh, otherwise you put your fellow Crows at risk if it turns out you can’t hold your piss on the job. One peep and the whole order could go down.”

“You… chose to be a Crow?”

“‘Course I did. What, did you think I was forced into it?”

“I mean, you hear stories of them buying kids and training them. Not usually happy stories. How'd you go from the Dalish to the Crows?”

Her expression went flat, eyes dark. She hoisted them up unceremoniously before taking bounding steps. The distance between them became a yawning gap before she turned on her heels, beckoning them onward.

“Come on, almost there.”

They passed over a handful more rooftops, Renn gliding over precarious beams, balancing along railings just because, and leaping large gaps between roofs instead of taking the rickety boards bridging them. It was all in a stuffy silence, Rook just trying to keep up, before her movements simply ceased. She was perched at the edge of the roof, toes curling around the stone lip as she peered out over the dark bay.

“Dalish clans can only have a few mages.” She started abruptly, tone unusually flat. “Too many attracts demons. So if yer born with magic and they're full up, you get kicked out. They teach ya how to survive and use your magic first, but still. Supposed to find a new clan with a mage openin’ or some such. They send you off with tears and words of love and some supplies, but they’ll also shoot at you if you try to stay. Mixed bag, really.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah.” The word was a sad laugh, a glint of metal flashing in her hand as she rolled the Halla statue between her fingers. “I drifted in the forest for a few months, alone. You know what my ma’s partin’ words were? ‘You mustn't fear the wolf, you must be the wolf.’ Wouldn't she have a lark now.” Her hand clutched the ornament in a tight fist. “What good’s a wolf without a pack? Just easy pickin’s for the hunter. They got me in my sleep, dragged me out of the tree hollow I was shelterin’ in and tossed me in a cage. Slavers are everywhere. I put up a fight, mind you, but I was a kid. Just earned me pain and scars. It was luck that the Crows hit their caravan before they reached market. I tried to fight them, too, kicking and clawing and biting. Viago must have seen somethin’ in the feral kid trying to gnaw through his leather glove ‘cause he offered to train me. Offered me a home, not a pack mind you, but a flock.” She pulled in a breath before pulling her hand back. With a vicious snapping of her arm, she flung the statue into the bay. It sailed for several long heartbeats before an audible splash reached them, the ripples distorting the city lights in the water. A sigh of almost relief caused her shoulders to sag. “So I gave up the wolf to become a crow. The Crows wanted me, Viago wanted me. Trainin’ was hell, it earned me a lot more scars, but to be in a place where I was wanted? Where I wasn't an annoyin’ extra? I'd do anythin’ for that. So I did. I'm a damn fine Crow, finer than anythin’ the Dalish would have made me. I like my work, I like the respect, I love my House. Might not seem like I had a choice, but I'm very happy to be here.” She half turned to face Rook, eyes shining with the same dangerous glint she always got when talking about the Crows. “Besides, messin’ with Viago is way too much fun to ever leave. He's such a stick in the mud!”

“I'm surprised he has the patience for you.” Rook offered with a weak grin.

“His fault for pickin’ a wild child as his protege.” She shrugged.

“So… do you do this often? Throwing stuff in the bay?”

“Only when I start feeling like I miss the wilds. Rotten little seed deep in me that won't go away. The Dalish were never my home, not truly. Treviso is. These rooftops and canals, dark streets and darker deals, this is where I belong. Chuckin’ some elf crap helps me let go of the feelin’ and get my head on straight.” She took a few steps back from the edge, planting a hand on their shoulder. “You should try it sometime, when bein’ in charge of all this shit gets too heavy.” She held up her other hand where a little Fen’harel statue rested on her open palm, a wide grin splitting her lips. “Aren't you tired of bein’ the wolf?”