(I have to follow
that?
)
payroo wrote...
CHALLENGE 3!
Prompt: Gold/silver bars.
This could be why he likes them, what he does with them or uses them for, or just Zevran sitting on a pile of bling. Let's set the time limit at 45 minutes.
Right, so writing something that is 1) on-topic and 2) makes sense in 45 minutes is apparently really hard for me. :| Not entirely sure this is on target, but it was triggered by the prompt, anyway, so for amusement's sake, if nothing else, here it is. (I don't think it's quite
complete, but, well, time!)
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"But Warden, this blade is
unique, the dagger of the Black Rose himself. The asking price really isn't so high in that light, is it?"
Alessar resisted the urge to rub his forehead to ease the headache that was creeping up on him. He'd been too obvious in his desire for the dagger, and the dwarven merchant -- lyrium-addled or no -- was trying to wring him out. There was no way to prove that the blade was the singular weapon that Garin claimed it was, but it was certainly a very fine dagger all on its own, and the elf wanted it badly -- as a gift. He'd never consider something so costly for himself, and with his rudimentary skill with a blade, such fine steel would be a waste in his hands.
Not so for Zevran, who had seen the elegant weapon when they'd come to Garin for supplies before heading into the Deep Roads. He'd remarked upon it, admiringly, to Alessar, and the Warden had seen his lover's gaze lingering on the thing before they left, but he surely guessed (or perhaps he'd even inquired) that the dagger was quite costly, and hadn't made any serious mention of obtaining it.
At the time, they simply couldn't afford the amount of coin the merchant was asking. What funds they had were meant to provide basic weapons, armor and supplies for all of the members of the company, and even though Alessar was willing to buy something fine for Zevran, the money wasn't truly his to spend in such a way.
Money... That triggered a thought in the elven Warden's head. He was counting the group's coinage in his mental accounts, but they had gemstones to barter with, and refined metal, too, things found along their way.
"Would you consider this as currency for trade?" he asked, reaching deep into his pack and withdrawing a bar of solid, unworked gold. He held the thing sheltered inside the opening of the pack, protecting it from the eyes of passers-by, but he couldn't block the momentarily astounded expression on Garin's face.
"Well, I'd have to weigh it of course, to judge how much you've got there, but yes, I, uh, think we can work something out," the merchant said eagerly.
I have a feeling I'm going to come out on the losing end of this deal, Alessar thought wryly. But the metal bars he had stashed away had never been counted as part of the group's funds, and he certainly had no other use for them other than as ready currency.
Entirely aside from his purpose here, the metal bars themselves brought Zevran to mind. The first time he'd found such a thing, in the mages' Tower, he'd noticed the other elf's eyes lingering on the pure metal. It had been very early in their acquaintance, and when their eyes had finally met, Zevran's only response was a rueful chuckle. Alessar had been slightly suspicious that the assassin might try to steal the thing and make a break for freedom, but of course, he never had.
They'd found another ingot in Haven's small store, and again, Zevran had eyed the bar of silver appreciatively. By then, the Warden trusted him enough to not worry about theft, but he was rather curious about the other elf's clear interest in the things. Was it simply because they were potentially worth so very much? Zevran had come from perhaps even poorer roots than Alessar; neither of them would have ever seen something so precious in the walled-in confines of an alienage or a brothel. But surely, as an assassin (and an
expensive assassin, at that), Zevran had come across such things in his work?
Or maybe it stemmed from practicality; an unmarked bar of precious metal was untraceable and anonymous wealth, after all. Someone who needed to move about discreetly might greatly value such a thing.
Feeling ashamed, Alessar realized he'd never thought to ask. There was always some other crisis at hand, some vital task that needed doing; the bars were scooped up from their hiding places and tucked away to never be thought on again, until now.
He let Garin take the bar and watched the merchant carefully as he weighed it on a small set of scales. "Well, Warden, this goes a long way -- almost a hundred-weight of gold. You don't have another one half this size, do you? Or coin for the rest?"
Alessar smiled slightly and pulled out a smaller bar of gold.
"By the Stone, Warden, I don't know who pays you, but they're generous," the dwarf said, laughing nervously as he took the bar to weigh. "All right, the dagger's yours."
*****
"I will be a few moments only,
cielo," Zevran promised as he stepped into the quarters he'd been granted by Bhelen's chamberlain. He meant to retrieve a certain item or two before spending some long-overdue private time with the Warden, and was reaching for his pack when an odd shape lying on the bed caught his eye. It was a loosely-wrapped bundle of black fabric, narrow and about the length of his forearm and hand together.
"And what do we have here?" he asked the empty room as he cautiously scooped up the bundle. As he expected, there seemed to be a dagger inside; now quite curious, he folded the cloth back to reveal the hilt of the weapon. His eyes widened as he recognized the distinctive guards and pommel, and in his eagerness to see the dagger in its full glory, he let the swathing fabric fall to the floor. As it fell, a little swatch of paper drifted down to land on top of it. Zevran didn't have to see the little sigil of a crossed bow and arrow -- Alessar's charming way of signing his personal correspondence -- to know who the gift had come from.
"Ah, my dear Warden," he murmured, smiling and closing his eyes as he ran his fingers over the dagger's hilt, learning its lines and curves. "You do spoil me so."
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(Note: As you can guess, I never gave Zev the metal bars. XD;; his plot gifts and talking to him did enough, approval-wise, and I didn't gift with other things because I wanted to see how hard or easy it was to win his approval without.)
Modifié par jenovan, 11 août 2010 - 10:59 .
Retour en haut
He was funny, entertaining, and there was *never* any pressure from him. He made overtures but could accept rejection gracefully. When the 'jealousy talk' comes up he is not only concerned about the feelings of the other LI but states simply that he is no cheat and refuses to continue if it means going behind someone else's back (something that surprised me and made me respect his character. I'd expected something else given his background). His banter is sprinkled with lines that show his love of the kill is not the same as being bloodthirsty.
Looks like the closing of the old thread was a kind of reanimation? 
Is there any hope that it can get better?
(until the Warden has to go to the Deep Roads...
