Zevran was alight with compliments, the like of which made her smile; if they were insincere, he was skilled enough that she could not detect the lie in him. They reached the back table of the armory in good time; the surface was obscured for all the weapons on it, but Zevran's gifts were made clear.
The armor was of an unfamiliar make, but reminiscent of the elves of Thedas. She had seen no Dalish warriors, not clad thus, but she would gladly wear something in their style. To test it for fit would require a great deal less modesty than those of Thedas employed, so she set it back down after examining it. The glaive, however, received all of her attention.
"This will serve me well," she announced as she lifted the weapon and twisted it gently. Once she had inspected the blade, she cast a look at Zevran.
"High Dragons? Archdemons?" Galadriel asked and her brows crept upward as she did. What she imagined, when such words were uttered, were likely not the creatures that Zevran meant. Her first conversation with Korrin had taught her to restrict her imagination...but it was a difficult task.
"I cannot say I have fought either. I cannot imagine surviving one, let alone both." She stepped away from the table and Zevran as she tested the balance of the glaive. It wove between her fingers as easily as water cascading over rocks. It was a very fine weapon. "You must be a fearsome warrior or a truly lucky fool, mellon nin."
no subject
The armor was of an unfamiliar make, but reminiscent of the elves of Thedas. She had seen no Dalish warriors, not clad thus, but she would gladly wear something in their style. To test it for fit would require a great deal less modesty than those of Thedas employed, so she set it back down after examining it. The glaive, however, received all of her attention.
"This will serve me well," she announced as she lifted the weapon and twisted it gently. Once she had inspected the blade, she cast a look at Zevran.
"High Dragons? Archdemons?" Galadriel asked and her brows crept upward as she did. What she imagined, when such words were uttered, were likely not the creatures that Zevran meant. Her first conversation with Korrin had taught her to restrict her imagination...but it was a difficult task.
"I cannot say I have fought either. I cannot imagine surviving one, let alone both." She stepped away from the table and Zevran as she tested the balance of the glaive. It wove between her fingers as easily as water cascading over rocks. It was a very fine weapon. "You must be a fearsome warrior or a truly lucky fool, mellon nin."