A frown danced across Luna’s lips for just a moment as she balanced her coinpurse in her palm. It wasn’t like the<i>Fleur du Soleil</i>hadn’t been<i>worth</i>the money - it was a much nicer inn than any she’d seen in Ferelden, and they’d even drawn her a bath, which she’d wanted for ages. And she’d been able to sleep in a proper bed again. Sleeping under the stars was nice, but she never felt completely safe out there; there was always the chance that she’d be attacked by one thing or another, or rained on. She wasn’t sure which was worse; trying to sleep in the rain was awful.<br/><br/>So she didn’t have a lot of money left, but that was fine. She was clean, she hadn’t seen any templars all day, and she had a plan. It was a terrible, stupid, foolish plan, but it was still better than anything else she could think of. She reached into her robes and brought out the rolled up parchment, holding it up against the sun. It said “the Golden Goblet”, all right. She’d always wanted to see the Deep Roads, although she would have liked to study it as a scholar rather than flee there as an apostate. She needed coin and she needed a place to hide, even if it meant delving into the deep. If the duke was halfway serious about the expedition, his group would be able to handle a few Darkspawn, or giant spiders, or cave-ins, or lava, or angry dwarves, or vengeful spirits, or… Luna shook her head, grimacing. If she didn’t go in now, she wouldn’t go in at all.<br/><br/>Thankfully, most of the tavern-goers didn’t pay much mind to another hooded figure looking for the doomed duke. She didn’t want their scrutiny. More eyes on her meant more eyes that might see her for what she was - something more than a pretty little travelling elf. Better that they focus on the hood, or the ears, or the face, or the body, or really anything other than the whole “demon possession risk” thing. Better to put up with their racism or bumbling advances than the Chantry.<br/><br/>She moved to the stairs without causing so much as a ripple in the crowd. There was an art to it, to moving without moving others, to taking the path of least resistance in a group so that it didn’t change for your passage. She wasn’t sure when or how she’d learned how to do it - maybe it was an elven thing, but she didn’t really know any elves to ask.<br/><br/>Seeing that there were already a few people waiting before the chevaliers outside the duke’s chamber, she lowered her hood and steadied herself against the wall, teal eyes bright and inquisitive. There were elves. She didn’t really know how to act around other elves, alienage<i>or</i>Dalish… and it looked like there were both. And a… Qunari? It was hard to mistake that. She’d read a lot about them, but she’d never actually met one in person before.<br/><br/><i><span style="color: grey">Probably best to watch and wait, then. No need to do anything stupid if I don’t have to. Maybe they don’t like mages. Or apostates. Or other elves. Or girls. Or people named Luna.</span></i>It was best not to take any chances, then; these travellers clearly didn’t like anybody.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>