He puts together scraps of dropped conversation, assembling a loose picture of this new blacksmith as he waits. Another elf--that's interesting. Big for one, too. From Starkhaven, by the accent. And--
A damned sight more polite than some of the people Myr's spent the last three years of his life with. He flips the knife so he's holding it by the blade and proffers it hilt-first. "Thanks," for the consideration. "Afraid I nicked the edge badly last time I used it, and it wants sharpening besides." Their trip from Hasmal Circle hadn't been sedate; a rebel templar with a vendetta had gotten through the cordon once, little expecting the short, blind elf to be knight-enchanter trained. The quarter-inch gouge in Myr's knife is a souvenir of the bastard's armor.
Where Seoraj's other patrons are quick to depart, Myr does linger, half-nervous and half-curious. This is all new to him and even if he can't see the interior of the smithy there's information to be gleaned simply by paying attention. And questions--always questions. "You're lately from Orlais, aren't you?"
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A damned sight more polite than some of the people Myr's spent the last three years of his life with. He flips the knife so he's holding it by the blade and proffers it hilt-first. "Thanks," for the consideration. "Afraid I nicked the edge badly last time I used it, and it wants sharpening besides." Their trip from Hasmal Circle hadn't been sedate; a rebel templar with a vendetta had gotten through the cordon once, little expecting the short, blind elf to be knight-enchanter trained. The quarter-inch gouge in Myr's knife is a souvenir of the bastard's armor.
Where Seoraj's other patrons are quick to depart, Myr does linger, half-nervous and half-curious. This is all new to him and even if he can't see the interior of the smithy there's information to be gleaned simply by paying attention. And questions--always questions. "You're lately from Orlais, aren't you?"