They tried that here y'know? When the doglords all showed up during the Blight but it was humans doing it to humans, because they came here and there wasn't room, still they stuck around and the place went to shit after. [Is that fair of him? No, probably not, but when you're a very small dwarf even by dwarf standards stuck in the dark and damp of Darktown suddenly packed full of resentful, hungry, angry humans where even the children are far bigger and stronger than you, life becomes a much harder place. Sharper. Food taken out of your mouth.
Because that's sort of the thing: humans push around everyone including each other, and Yngvi is used to watching it, to navigating through it, to playing his part where his mouthful is bitter to swallow.]
I've got...eight fathers, six mothers at last count, comes and goes a bit. Uncles, aunts, the old ones, siblings what I didn't eat. [And faintly, after that is Yngvi's thick Kirkwall mangling of Scoia'tel, attempting to ask the question of: the fuck is that mate but mostly tripping over the word, half sounding like squawk each time.] When Liadan - she's the second for the company I'm in - wanted to take revenge on people in the Coterie who did her dirty she had to hire out, and she looks human, she's elf on one side. Still couldn't do it all herself or she'd have been strung up.
[It makes him angry, saying that. Thinking about Liadan. People like her. Friends and near-family, his lady-- (No, don't think about that now, she'll be okay, she'll say if she wants them to come.)]
Me? I'm a mercenary, Boneflayers company; I'm the one here while the rest are off elsewhere, we signed a contract a couple of years back to do with the Inquistion. Born Carta though, cheating, thieving, swindling, taking out kneecaps because dwarves are the right height for all your knees. [The cheerfulness at that isn't faked or forced because there's nothing quite like the look on someone's face when they come to realise that no, that dwarf really is going to roll right into them before the axes come out.] Traps though, that's what I'm best with.
no worries, it happens
Because that's sort of the thing: humans push around everyone including each other, and Yngvi is used to watching it, to navigating through it, to playing his part where his mouthful is bitter to swallow.]
I've got...eight fathers, six mothers at last count, comes and goes a bit. Uncles, aunts, the old ones, siblings what I didn't eat. [And faintly, after that is Yngvi's thick Kirkwall mangling of Scoia'tel, attempting to ask the question of: the fuck is that mate but mostly tripping over the word, half sounding like squawk each time.] When Liadan - she's the second for the company I'm in - wanted to take revenge on people in the Coterie who did her dirty she had to hire out, and she looks human, she's elf on one side. Still couldn't do it all herself or she'd have been strung up.
[It makes him angry, saying that. Thinking about Liadan. People like her. Friends and near-family, his lady-- (No, don't think about that now, she'll be okay, she'll say if she wants them to come.)]
Me? I'm a mercenary, Boneflayers company; I'm the one here while the rest are off elsewhere, we signed a contract a couple of years back to do with the Inquistion. Born Carta though, cheating, thieving, swindling, taking out kneecaps because dwarves are the right height for all your knees. [The cheerfulness at that isn't faked or forced because there's nothing quite like the look on someone's face when they come to realise that no, that dwarf really is going to roll right into them before the axes come out.] Traps though, that's what I'm best with.