She rolled the numbers around in her head a moment, keeping her eyes on him and tuning out the din around them. Her fingers spread across the scarred table top and her lips parted in a slow smile.
"I know you Templars have protection against magic, but I don't. Let's start it at one sovreign for my trouble, the rest is acceptable. Though I warn you, if your errand takes much of my time the price might go up..."
Her tongue dragged a path over her lower lip as her eyes drifted downwards, his not-so-piou suggestion hanging in the air. "As for what other things you'd like to do with me... well I don't charge for... mutual satisfaction."
She didn't usually consider a man's name, let alone his job before jumping into bed with him. But a Templar would give her some pause. But she took his words at face value. After all, he was in this bar, wasn't he? And absent was the ceremonial armor she'd seen on Templars before. Slept through the Chant indeed. She'd caught snippets of it being shouted on the streets of Denerim, and it was sung loudly in parts of Orlais. Sounded like a bunch of rubbish.
The fight was escalating around them, a chair smashed over someone's head, the sound of glasses breaking, fists hitting flesh, yells and grunts of pain. Beside their table two men grappled and she shifted out of the way.