Denerim seemed just like any other city. The rich suppressed the poor, the poor suppressed the elves, and everyone came together like one big, happy family to suppress the mages. The streets seemed friendly enough; riddled with pickpockets, thugs, and the occasional cheap whore crawling with more diseases than you could count on both hands. Dezrith didn't exactly live the high life, but he made do with what he had. So long as it meant he wasn't plagued by memories of how much of an asshole he used to be, to put it fondly, it was already paradise. As far as how he paid for his living, let's just say a clever tongue goes a long way.<br/><br/>"I really would rather not argue, serrah, but the ring<i>is</i>mine. I picked it up."<br/>"Ratshit! I saw it first. I just can't run as fast as you with all this armor. Now I demand you hand that ring over to me."<br/>Dezrith naturally feigned fear, as much as anyone would have upon being battered with insults by a templar. "I'm afraid I can't do that, serrah. Sixty sovereigns is far too much to simply let go of."<br/>"Did you say sixty sovereigns?"<br/>"Aye, serrah. My father was a jeweler. I'd notice this cut from a mile away. The diamond's a masterpiece.Edgeless, smooth as a pearl. Took weeks on end of soft, precise cuts. A single wrong move and the diamond became coarse, and you had to shed it and start over. One this big? Worth sixty, sixty-five sovereigns, easy."<br/><br/>It was bullshit, but well-worded bullshit. And, as if on cue, the templar's eyes widened with greed. It seemed amusing that these holy warriors were supposed to be the most resilient of men against the demons of the fade, considering how easily their own desires and pride overwhelmed them completely. He didn't even consider for a moment why the rag-covered peddler before him didn't just bolt off with the ring, nor did he think it more than simple ill luck that he hadn't taken his sword with him, making it difficult to simply slit Dezirth's throat and be done with it. But for the mage, draped in torn, earth-brown garments and covered in soot to mask his facial features, it was simply a matter of clever planning and an easy target.<br/><br/>"Hand it over. Now. Or I bring you to the chantry kicking and screaming. By the time they find out you're not a blood mage you'll be muttering incoherently for weeks." the templar bluffed, the words rasped slowly and spitefully past clenched teeth.<br/>"R-r-respectfully, serrah," Dezrith said, bowing his head down low as he backed away fearfully, pretending to tremble as his hands twitched violently. "It seems only f-f-fair that we each part ways with h-half the value... Perhaps if you were to pay my half - ?"<br/>The Templar scowled with an interruption, rummaging through his coin. The order did have circle magi and tranquil working with them to make sure the non-magical were not wrongly accused. Of course, to his knowledge, the bluff had worked regardless. To Dezrith's, however, things were going exactly according to plan. "Here. Fifteen sovereigns. That's all you're getting. Now hand over the ring and get out of my sight before I change my mind." he growled, exchanging the small handful of sovereigns for the ring. Not only was the Dwarven-cut diamond not diamond at all, but neither was the gold base of the ring. It was simply tin coated in a golden finish. Total value? Exactly seven silvers and eighteen coppers. Dezrith was only happy to run like hell with his well-earned gold as the Templar pocketed his worthless bauble. The mage couldn't help but chuckle to himself as he turned the corner, quickly undoing his disguise - eight coppers - and tossing it in the most convenient alley.<br/><br/>Dez had never really considered himself much of a friend to anyone, and yet for some reason many of the downtrodden folk in the city seemed to love him. The elves were particularly grateful to the man who kept buying their cheap jewelry and old rags, and the alley-whores seemed very fond of curling up in his forsaken disguises on an especially cold night, considering their typical, skimpy outfits weren't exactly optimal for cold weather. He wasn't exactly much for duping honest men, mostly because most of his schemes took advantage of the avarice and vanity that most honest men did not have enough of to fall for his tricks. But the fact of the matter was, however accidental, that since coming to Denerim, Dezrith Reinhart had been a good (if not exactly honest) man.<br/><br/>"Another satisfied customer."