[Isabela had spent the last couple of hours watching the fights and the people around the ring with equal intensity. It's easy to spot regulars versus tourists, new fighters against veterans. She might not know this place in particular, but she certainly knows its type.

It's a seedy little bit of the world, but it did seem to run on its own sort of rules. Which Isabela would expect, if Hawke was involved. She could sniff out a party wherever it was to be found, but if it was the sort where someone who didn't deserve it was truly getting hurt, well then Hawke never could sit back and just watch. It's a fatal sort of flaw for a friend to have, but Isabela has long since learned to let it slide.

She looks over when someone new stalks over to the bar, recognizing him from the ring earlier, though he's covered up enough that it'd be easy to miss that if it weren't for the bandaged hands or Isabela watching for it. She flashes him a smile, not put off either by the hint of scars or by the hood hiding them.]

I don't know about that, love, there's always ways and ways to make coin in a crowd like this. But I'm just watching, for now. Getting a feel for this flavor of depraved and seeing how it tastes. Are you a recruiter, or just offering a friendly word of advice?