Edgard's face suddenly brightens. It's not every day he meets another bowman. He shoves up his right sleeve and offers it. Smiling, he eyes Naca's arms as if trying to tell which is hers.
"Was a soldier. Long time ago, not important. But, didn't want to die, so I got good. You?"
She spits and grabs his arm, sizing. There's something off about her shoulders — a familiar asymmetry. Vance shrugs helplessly: Look, he's just here to pay.
"Too many soldiers. Don't know if there's a good bowtree left in all Orlais." Groused. She releases him, steps back. "I'm making something special. Needs a test. Deserters here can't draw for shit."
"Don't disagree. If there is one left, should probably leave it for the birds." He grins lopsidedly as his arm is manhandled and then measured. He likes her, whoever she is.
"You asking me to test something?" His eyes widen adding a please.
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"Was a soldier. Long time ago, not important. But, didn't want to die, so I got good. You?"
He nervously glances at Vance.
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She spits and grabs his arm, sizing. There's something off about her shoulders — a familiar asymmetry. Vance shrugs helplessly: Look, he's just here to pay.
"Too many soldiers. Don't know if there's a good bowtree left in all Orlais." Groused. She releases him, steps back. "I'm making something special. Needs a test. Deserters here can't draw for shit."
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"You asking me to test something?" His eyes widen adding a please.
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Vance mouths, behind her head: Say yes.
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But, he leans against a wall nonchalantly and his mouth says,
"Give it a shot if you want."