It was a gift, then. Something lost, and probably more dear than Zevran wants to say. Frankly, he's in a similar situation; Twisted Fate is still kicking himself for having lost his arrowhead during his little run from the bears in Emprise du Lion. He dislikes the idea of having lost it entirely, but it's looking that way.
But it doesn't necessarily have to be that way for Zevran. He'll make a note of it to look.
"Of course. Let's sit for now." Verbally, he presses no further. He knows what to look for. Instead, Twisted Fate gently guides Zevran to sit with him.
"There was a traveling merchant who went by the name Henmar. A very proud dwarf, overpricing his goods and a self-proclaimed negotiator. He had several indebted to him. There were two steps for this con: first, my partner and I agreed that we would, of course, run off with his money. That was the important part. The second? We had to devalue the crafts he was importing. Usually dwarven crafts are reliable, but not when they're made with cheap material by starving underclassed.
"My partner, Malsaam, started first with purchasing armor and a shield. Not that he really used the types, no one would know by looking at him. You see a vashoth, most people assume he's going to hit things with a hammer or something equally enormous. With a bit of ice magic, we made it more brittle as a little insurance for our performance. In the middle of the market in Denerim where Henmar had his shop temporarily set up, we paid someone to attack Malsaam. One strike, and everything cracked. Malsaam pretended to confront Henmar, who did try to defend himself but several others began to feel they were conned by the merchant.
"Henmar lost a great deal of business. I convinced him to play some Wicked Grace with me. I made it seem like I was a naive Dalish elf, so he felt confident he could reclaim some of his losses."
Twisted Fate smiles sharply. "You can imagine how wrong he was. We put him out of business, and ran away with his money."
no subject
But it doesn't necessarily have to be that way for Zevran. He'll make a note of it to look.
"Of course. Let's sit for now." Verbally, he presses no further. He knows what to look for. Instead, Twisted Fate gently guides Zevran to sit with him.
"There was a traveling merchant who went by the name Henmar. A very proud dwarf, overpricing his goods and a self-proclaimed negotiator. He had several indebted to him. There were two steps for this con: first, my partner and I agreed that we would, of course, run off with his money. That was the important part. The second? We had to devalue the crafts he was importing. Usually dwarven crafts are reliable, but not when they're made with cheap material by starving underclassed.
"My partner, Malsaam, started first with purchasing armor and a shield. Not that he really used the types, no one would know by looking at him. You see a vashoth, most people assume he's going to hit things with a hammer or something equally enormous. With a bit of ice magic, we made it more brittle as a little insurance for our performance. In the middle of the market in Denerim where Henmar had his shop temporarily set up, we paid someone to attack Malsaam. One strike, and everything cracked. Malsaam pretended to confront Henmar, who did try to defend himself but several others began to feel they were conned by the merchant.
"Henmar lost a great deal of business. I convinced him to play some Wicked Grace with me. I made it seem like I was a naive Dalish elf, so he felt confident he could reclaim some of his losses."
Twisted Fate smiles sharply. "You can imagine how wrong he was. We put him out of business, and ran away with his money."