The next day, Delvin was in the Riften market, shivering slightly in the autumnal air. It had been a while since he'd been here in the daylight, but Bryn told him to get out of the Flagon and practice. It seemed pointless to him, there wasn't a woman here that could compare to Corinne, but he agreed to get it over with.
"It's about sizing up your mark." Brynjolf had said in conclusion, as if every life lesson was intertwined with the tenets of the guild.
It seemed a crude statement, Bryn was correct, it was about knowing a person and what they liked, in love and thievery. Only the worst or most desperate tried to pull a break in without some sort of plan. Though he hated the Riften Market, and normally took pains to keep well away from the place, especially near Honorhall Orphanage, there was something compelling about a crowd of distracted people milling about, it appealed to the thief within him. The crowd lent him energy and enthusiasm for his task, and the promise of a distraction should it go wrong. Riften was his city, for better or worse, but he couldn't exactly claim to be fond of the place.
Delvin looked around the market, his gaze lingering on Grelka. The ornery merchant would be a challenge for him, and wasn't likely to be easy to win over. The art, wasn't in getting her interested, but learning to read her in the conversation. Though he doubted that he'd have any chance of success, he walked over to her, and pretended to look at her wares. The first piece of advice Bryn gave him was, 'It's all in the eyes. Look there to measure a reaction.'
Avoiding eye contact was more his specialty, sneaking around and not being detected. Forcing himself to look Grelka in the eye would be a challenge, and he took a deep breath before he began.
"Are you gonna buy something?" She barked as soon as he looked at her.
"I like what I'm seeing right now."
"Whatever item interests you, make an offer. It's not for free." Grelka said, obviously missing the subtext of his words. Her eyes were dark and stormy, and Delvin decided to ask again, to see if he could break through them, to get her talking.
"What can you tell me about them?"
"They're for sale." Grelka snapped. "What else do you need to know?" Delvin glanced back up at her and saw that she was openly suspicious and her expression closed, and understood the lesson at last. She would likely remain that way, and he was wasting his time. With that in mind he went for broke.
"Were you always this cute, or did you have to work at it?"
He had to hold in a chuckle at how she blanched then her face flushed crimson before she recovered her usual angry visage. Dropping that awful line was worth it to see the somewhat horrified look she gave him.
"Are you making a joke or something?" Grelka asked, her confusion and anger mounting.
"Wouldn't dream of it, darlin." Delvin said, before moving away.
That wasn't too bad, he thought, looking back at Grelka's stormy face as she yelled at another customer. Brynjolf's lesson had actually come in handy, even if it hadn't played out that well. He lifted the soul gem he'd palmed from her cart and put it in a pocket as he walked towards Balimund's forge. If nothing else, he might give the thing to Corinne, her daggers sparkled and gleamed with enchantments when she came down to the Flagon.
A Lack of Wit 3/?
"It's about sizing up your mark." Brynjolf had said in conclusion, as if every life lesson was intertwined with the tenets of the guild.
It seemed a crude statement, Bryn was correct, it was about knowing a person and what they liked, in love and thievery. Only the worst or most desperate tried to pull a break in without some sort of plan. Though he hated the Riften Market, and normally took pains to keep well away from the place, especially near Honorhall Orphanage, there was something compelling about a crowd of distracted people milling about, it appealed to the thief within him. The crowd lent him energy and enthusiasm for his task, and the promise of a distraction should it go wrong. Riften was his city, for better or worse, but he couldn't exactly claim to be fond of the place.
Delvin looked around the market, his gaze lingering on Grelka. The ornery merchant would be a challenge for him, and wasn't likely to be easy to win over. The art, wasn't in getting her interested, but learning to read her in the conversation. Though he doubted that he'd have any chance of success, he walked over to her, and pretended to look at her wares. The first piece of advice Bryn gave him was, 'It's all in the eyes. Look there to measure a reaction.'
Avoiding eye contact was more his specialty, sneaking around and not being detected. Forcing himself to look Grelka in the eye would be a challenge, and he took a deep breath before he began.
"Are you gonna buy something?" She barked as soon as he looked at her.
"I like what I'm seeing right now."
"Whatever item interests you, make an offer. It's not for free." Grelka said, obviously missing the subtext of his words. Her eyes were dark and stormy, and Delvin decided to ask again, to see if he could break through them, to get her talking.
"What can you tell me about them?"
"They're for sale." Grelka snapped. "What else do you need to know?" Delvin glanced back up at her and saw that she was openly suspicious and her expression closed, and understood the lesson at last. She would likely remain that way, and he was wasting his time. With that in mind he went for broke.
"Were you always this cute, or did you have to work at it?"
He had to hold in a chuckle at how she blanched then her face flushed crimson before she recovered her usual angry visage. Dropping that awful line was worth it to see the somewhat horrified look she gave him.
"Are you making a joke or something?" Grelka asked, her confusion and anger mounting.
"Wouldn't dream of it, darlin." Delvin said, before moving away.
That wasn't too bad, he thought, looking back at Grelka's stormy face as she yelled at another customer. Brynjolf's lesson had actually come in handy, even if it hadn't played out that well. He lifted the soul gem he'd palmed from her cart and put it in a pocket as he walked towards Balimund's forge. If nothing else, he might give the thing to Corinne, her daggers sparkled and gleamed with enchantments when she came down to the Flagon.