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-- Ugh! They're picking on him, sitting in the hallway. See those fine fellows? One of the "fine fellows" is now kicking the other one into the wall and applying makeup to his face with his fists. -- They'll teach him a lesson, I bet... He paused, took a sip of beer, and then continued, quieter. -- I see you're not poor... Did you hear about the new decree? Now we can all walk around with daggers or swords. But those who needed to, already did, and those who didn't, won't be able to handle it anyway, and they'll be beaten to death even with a stone. The King, you know... really likes to indulge our kind with freedoms, so it's easier for him to reach into our pockets. And what am I getting at? I can point you to people who can teach you a thing or two about using sharp objects. But information is also a currency.
-- Huh? Oh, I was just... -- the elf feigned indecision. However, this indecision turned into drunken interest. -- And how much does it cost? Well, the training? (buys)