CRYSTAL | maybe you should wait.

[poleaxed]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Jone
RECIPIENT: Y'all
NOTES: Comments may be spicy.

Is anybody dreaming of getting back topside? Know I am. Blimey, a sweaty fucking pit, is Orzammar.

We've a tennis court. That's jeu de paume for the rest of you. [Her Orlesian is surprisingly not terrible.] It ought to be finished by the time we're back. I know, I know, you don't like to train in the yard, it hurts your knees or your bloody feelings. That's what the court's for. Let's play a game and get your stamina up, aye?

Noticed we've had some new folk lately, and I wanna say again: I'm Jone, the six-foot-bitch in the training yard with the red hair. I'll train you, and I'll do it right. You ain't for swords, we'll find what you're for. Free fucking service, you only have to make an effort.

Think of it this way: if you work hard enough, get strong enough, one day you'll get to break me nose.

Comments

[poleaxed]

It's real complicated. You grab a ball, throw it at a wall, and try to give the other one a concussion.

[elegiaque]

I can give you a concussion in tennis.

[poleaxed]

That's some real generosity you have, but I can only get throttled once a day or the healers get stroppy.

[elegiaque]

Most of them are just like that.

[poleaxed]

Who's your favorite? Everyone's got a favorite.

[Since they're apparently playing to kill.]

[elegiaque]

I'm not sure I've gone to the healers conscious enough to know who was healing me. If I can walk I can probably sort it out.

[poleaxed]

I'll leave you to Isaac's tender mercies when I brain you, then.