ladyswillmart:“Ach, no. Not a trollie–a Tharn original, for certain,” Arlen said a
ladyswillmart:“Ach, no. Not a trollie–a Tharn original, for certain,” Arlen said as he gently flipped the doll around in his hands. Though he felt rather sheepish as he did so, he lifted its skirt, exposing a burlap backside and a small cloth tag. “This is the edition number here, plus the maker’s mark in the red embroidery. These were sold ‘round the time after Varen Aquilitari-whotsisname disappeared. You know. When she became Empress Regent, I think.”“You say tomato, I say a bloody troll,” Quen muttered. “Is this supposed to be realistic…?”“Oh, I couldn’t say for sure. I’ve only ever seen her face on coins and stamps and the like. But they say our Empress has a most leathery countenance, with all the regal bearing that could reasonably be expected from goblin nobility,” said Arlen. “Posy remarks, really.”“If you’re a goblin, sure.”Arlen only shrugged; given the name Tharn, there was always the possibility.“But is it worth anything? That’s all that matters,” Quen continued, hopefully.“It’s worth about as much as that Chim-el Adabadda-whotsit that old vagrant tried to fence last week. Actually–” Arlen paused, then quickly flipped the doll around. “–no! Those eyes are real Imperial steel buttons. Quen, look!”“Oh, great.”“Yes! Great!” Arlen effervesced. “Ask any Alliance acquisitions office, they’re always looking for a few good buttons. Twenty bits each. No lie! I ruined three of my best shirts and made a fortune.”Fortune, of course, meaning just enough legal tender to have a sweetroll for lunch for the next three days. This was Day Two; Arlen was determined to enjoy every crumb of it.Quen blundered her hands up, obviously peeved about the current direction of this transaction. “Forty bits for an entire Empress!” she wailed. “I mean, tell me you’re joking, you’ve got to be! Do you know I had to bust two locks and a display case at the Hand, Foot & Mouth Taverna just to–well, you know! They said it was a hot tip, gravy guaranteed.”With a soft foof, Arlen elbow-leaned into the sole bare patch of desk he had scuttled out, amid waiting piles of unidentifiable refuse, identifiable odds and anyone’s-guess sods, plus the flourishing collection of Fishles (“The First Word in Quality Fish Calls”) he had been amassing for as long as he could remember.“Look on the bright side, Quen,” he said as he unearthed a sweetroll from the inside of a re-purposed guar salve jar. “Forty bits is definitely more than what you’d get for the real thing.” -- source link
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#eso#thieves guild#long post#fanfic