As soon as you mention the Lord's Mail, a man you didn't see when you
entered seats himself by you at the bar. "Couldn't help overhearing you, mate. You
can call me %an. I happen to know how to find Morihaus' armor, the bane of trolls
everywhere. A %ra like you could use a little help. I'm willing to tell
you everything I know for %oap gold. Agreed?"
"It can't be coincidence that brings you and I to the %nt at the same time," a
young man seats himself next to you. "A %ra looking for the Lord's Mail,
and a man who knows just where to find it. Best armor ever created, you know.
Make you more than a match for anyone. I like you enough to offer a mere %oap
gold pieces for my invaluable information. Do we have a deal?"
The bartender signals to a man in the back of the inn. The young
man stands up and joins you at the counter. "I've got the sort of information wars
have been waged over. You know for his arrogance Morihaus had the Lord's Mail taken
from him by the spirit Kynareth. I do not suffer from the same sin of arrogance. For
%oap gold, I will tell how to find the place where Kynareth has sequestered the
Lord's Mail. Shall we do business, %ra?"
"Very good, I accept your gold. Listen to me carefully. In the province
of Skyrim, there is a dungeon called the %amn, said to be the actual burial
crypt of Kynareth herself! Before her death it is said that she foresaw
many needs coming to the land. To aid any person who would take such
a need upon their shoulders Kynareth created the Lord's Mail, said to be
able to cure its wearer of any injury. To guard this artifact from those
who would plunder her crypt, she secreted it in a location known only to her.
Whenever a great need appears upon the land, so does the
Lord's Mail. That's how that warrior, Morihaus, got it first.
It's location, and the crypt of Kynareth are always different.
In the ancient libraries of Tholgamis I stumbled upon the secret to the
location of Kynareth's crypt as it has appeared this time. I have no desire
to be a hero. A full purse is enough to keep me happy! If you fashion
yourself a hero, and wish to win the Lord's Mail, journey to Kynareth's
crypt and get the map, good %ra. I have inscribed her resting place on
your map of the continent. I wish you well on your journey..."
"Forget it, pal. You're going to have to do a lot better than that."
"I haven't insulted your intelligence yet, please don't insult mine. Make a
legitimate offer, or I walk."
"If that's the best you can offer, just say goodbye. Otherwise, you're going to
have to make it more, %ra."
"What a disappointment. Goodbye then. I'll be at %nt for %dit more days if
you change your mind."
"I've wasted enough time already. You can find me here for %dit days if you
get the money or change your mind. Leave me now."
"I understand your monetary situation. If it changes, I'm staying here %dit days
more. Please excuse me, %ra."
"Well, no. I can't accept any less than %nap gold."
"A little backbone I like, %tn. Would you consider %nap gold instead?"
"Sorry, I can't justify that. %nap gold seems fair. What do you think?"
"Rather a strange thing for someone to ask about," a young man of aristocratic
bearing joins you at the bar. "The Oghma Infinium does not roll off one's tongue
accidentally. Perhaps you have heard one of the %cn folk mention %an - that's me. I
do know how to find the Tome of Power, only occasionally seen since Xarses' death centuries
ago. I regret the necessity of asking %oap gold for my information. You do agree it's a
reasonable request for such a powerful relic?"
A man sits next to you at the bar. The innkeeper looks at him
suspiciously and moves to his other customers. "My name is %an. Sorry for
interrupting," he says, his voice like a blade sliding from its sheath. "But you
mentioned the Oghma Infinium, and I have information that could lead to its recovery.
You know knowledge doesn't come without its price. Mine is %oap gold pieces. Are
you willing to go on?"
The moment you mentioned the Oghma Infinium, you are joined by a man you
did not even notice in the tavern before. He immediately starts his sell with a
friendly smile. "Did I hear correctly? You're looking for the Tome of Power, the
Librum of Knowledge, the Oghma Infinium of Xarses itself? I, %an, admire ambition, so
I will tell you exactly how you can get the Infinium for a mere %oap gold. Agreed?"
"Excellent. In the province of Skyrim lies an ancient tomb. I found it quite
by accident while escaping Reavers of the frozen wastes who sought to enslave
me. Falling into this forsaken place I found tablets and scrolls which all
pointed to the location of the Oghma Infinium, said to increase the reader's
innate attributes to god-like proportions. I have no need of such attention,
for I would rather be rich and anonymous. I have however inscribed the
location of that tomb onto your map of the continent. It's called the %amn.
Journey there and you can recover those maps for yourself. They will show
you where the Oghma Infinium now lies. Be warned, these things of power
seldom grant their gifts without a price. The Infinium has appeared many
times through the ages. I wish you luck on recovering it as it appears now..."
"Not even close. If that's all you have, don't waste my time."
"I assume that was a joke. Please make me a legitimate offer, good %ra."
"I like to think I have a good sense of humor, but you're wasting my time.
Either say goodbye or make a real offer."
"No hard feelings, %ra, but I look for other interested parties. I'll be here %dit
days if you want to think about it and get back to me. Until then, goodbye."
"You don't know what you're passing up. Well, I must be leaving %cn in %dit
days, but you'll find me here until then if you come to your senses. Goodbye."
"I was prepared for reasonable haggling. I must say I'm disappointed. Come
back within %dit days if you're willing to negotiate. Goodbye."
"You're a good haggler, %tn. I'm afraid I can't accept less than %nap gold."
"That's a fair offer, but %nap gold pieces is an even more fair offer."
"Are you certain you can't make it %nap gold? I'd agree to that."
Sword of the Paladin - Traduction
"Keep your voice down," a sinister figure grips you by the arm. "I
am %an, and I know how to find the holy Sword of the Paladin, Chrysamere. I'm a
businessman and my information doesn't exactly come cheap, %ra. You'll know
everything I know about Chrysamere for %oap gold pieces. Are we agreed on price?"
Upon mentioning the sword Chrysamere, you are immediately joined by a young man.
"Good %ra, allow me to introduce myself, a%n at your service. I couldn't
help overhearing your mention of the Blade of Blades, the Sword of the Paladin,
Chrysamere. As a matter of fact, I happen to know where the map to
Chrysamere's most recent hiding place has been all this time. I just turned down a chap
willing to pay %oap gold for my
information, but for you, I think I'd agree to that price. Do we have a deal?"
A cloaked figure appears at your side. He speaks in a low whisper. "Perhaps it
is not so wise to mention Chrysamere so brazenly. There are few who would not kill to
gain the information I have on its wherebouts. I could guide you on your way to
recover the Sword of the Paladin, but not for less than %oap gold pieces - not an
unfair price, I think you agree. Are you prepared to pay that much?"
"I knew the moment you walked in, we'd make a good deal. My information comes
from my brother, a scribe in Alabaster, a port city in Elsweyr. He does
occasional work with the archivists of the city. A rumor grew that Chrysamere,
the Sword of Heroes, had resurfaced into the known world. He delved deeper
and found that it had indeed risen again. The location was said to be
inscribed on a tablet in a place called the %amn. I have inscribed the
location of that tablet on your map of the continent. Neither
my brother or I care much for adventure. The money you have given us
will allow him to complete his studies and I to raise a family. Take care in
your quest. Both the map you seek and Chrysamere are sure to be guarded..."
"Please don't insult me with pitiful offers. Tell me what you'll really pay for
the information, %ra."
"There's a fine line between shrewd bartering and outright insults, and you've
crossed it. Make a legitimate offer this time."
"That's what I paid for your mother last night, but I want a lot more for
something worthwhile. Don't insult me again, %ra."
"An offer like this comes once in a lifetime. You'll be sorry. I'll give you %dit
days to get back to me here before I move on. Excuse me now."
"Sorry we couldn't help one another, %ra. I'm staying here at %nt for %dit
more days, so there's a change in your courage or your purse size, look me up.
Goodbye."
"You don't even know what an excellent price I was offering. Ah well, I'll be
here for %dit more days if you change your mind. Pardon me now."
"I'd like to, but I can't accept that. Would you agree to %nap gold?"
"Interesting offer, but %nap gold is the least I can accept in return for my
information. Come now, %ra, what do you think of that?"
"I can't accept that, I'm afraid. I'd take %nap gold, though."
"Be quiet, %ra fool," the man next to you grabs your arm and speaks in a
low, conspiratorial tone. "The Necromancers would not think at all about killing you
just for mentioning the Staff of Magnus. Their most powerful mages are children
compared to its power, and if they could possess it, surely they would rule %cn. I
would be willing to tell you how to find the Staff, but it will cost you %oap gold in
return. Agreed?"
A young man comes to your side and shakes your hand. "The Staff of
Magnus? It must surely be fate that brought us two together. I am %an and I can
direct you on your way to find this most ancient and powerful of relics. Pity the
poor mage who tries to battle with you once it is in your possession, eh? All I ask
in return for my information is a pittance, %oap gold pieces. Shall we get down to
business?"
"I like your arrogance, kid," a dark figure slithers across the tavern to your side,
his face emotionless as a mask. "Strolling into the %nt, asking about the Staff of Magnus
like it was a new brand of ale. The Necromancers of %cn have been offering me
thousands of gold pieces to tell them how to find it, but I shudder to think what
would become of %lp if they had that power. For you, I make the offer of %oap gold, a very
good price. Do we have a deal?"
"Thank you for the gold. Now listen carefully. Just before the
Sorceror-King Magnus died, he trusted the only map to the location of
the Staff of Magnus to the Blades, a secret society of warriors. I
heard that one of their number sought the map that led to the Staff's current
location. He journeyed to a place called the %amn, in the Elsweyr province, but
never returned. I would never dare to go where a Bladesman met his end, but
somewhere in that dungeon is the map to the location of the Staff of Magnus.
For the money you've paid, you obviously think better of your chances. I wish
you luck in your quest. I've inscribed its location onto your map of the
continent. Good luck, %ra. I wish you well..."
"Ha. Make me a less amusing offer or stop wasting my time, %ra."
"I can understand bargain shopping, but you're being ridiculous. I'm going to
need a lot more than that."
"Not a chance, pal. Try again."
"Oh well. I'll probably still be at %nt for %dit days with my offer standing.
Fare thee well, young %ra."
"I hope you never know the power you passed up today. If you're smart, you'll
be back with gold in hand before %dit days pass and I leave %cn. Take care of
yourself."
"Fine. Please excuse me while I look for truly adventurous parties. The offer
and I will be here for %dit days and then we're leaving fair %cn. Free advice:
come back with gold."
"I understand your position, trying to get the best price you can. Let's say
%nap gold, shall we?"
"Sorry, I've already turned someone down who offered that. What's your
reaction to %nap gold pieces?"
"No, no, no. Let's try again. I'll tell you everything I know for %nap
gold."
Dwarven Hammer of Might - Traduction
"Did you say, 'Volendrung' my friend?" The monkey-faced man next to you
reaches over and shakes your hand. "Assuming you're asking about the Dwarven Hammer
of Might, I am %an, the man you want to speak to. Perhaps you have a friend
who has met a Medusa, or an enemy who ought to. Volendrung's the hammer for you then,
kid. Just give me %oap gold to get the business end out of the way, and I'll tell you
how to find the Hammer."
"I knew the moment you walked in, you were the %ra I wanted to do business with," a
young man you didn't notice before joins you at the bar eagerly. "You want
Volendrung, the Hammer of Might: a testimony to your knowledge and good
taste. I know how you can get Volendrung. All we need is to get the little question
of price out of the way. For my assistance in getting you to the Hammer, I'm only
asking for %oap gold pieces. I assume that's fine with you?"
A young man cloaked in appears at your side at the mention of
Volendrung. "You must have heard I was here, offering people information for
recovering the lost Dwarven Hammer of Might. Well, you're a lucky %ra. Turns
out the folk in the %nt aren't as rich as I thought they'd be, and I need gold more than
adventure. So for %oap pieces of gold, I'll tell you exactly how to recover
Volendrung. Will you take advantage of my generosity?"
"I accept your gold. I won't repeat any of this, so listen carefully.
You must journey to Hammerfell, to a place called the %amn, to find the Dwarven
Hammer of Might. In this dire place lies the secret of Volendrung's reincarnation.
Do not question how I came about this information. The price was more dear
than you can imagine. If you can survive the depths of the %amn, you will find
a map. On this map is inscribed the location of Volendrung. No thanks are
needed, nor are they appreciated. Your gold has spoken enough. One warning
will I give. Volendrung is a potent weapon, and will attract the attention
of equally potent beings. Such attention is not something I would
desire greatly..."
"Yeah, I don't think so. Make me a real offer, %ra."
"Not even close, %ra. Is that the best you can offer?"
"I haven't insulted your intelligence yet, please don't insult mine. Make a
legitimate offer."
"Price a little too hefty for you, %ra? I understand. Listen, I'll be here for %dit
days yet. Come back with the gold I require. Don't wait too long. Now I must go."
"Well, you'll probably find me here for %dit days or so, provided the %cn
locals don't drive me out of the %ct. Come back if you change your mind."
"I knew I was wasting my time talking to you. If you can get back to %nt
within %dit days with my gold, we can still do business. Meanwhile, I must leave
you. Farewell."
"A little backbone I like, %ra. Would you consider %nap gold instead?"
"You're a good haggler, %ra. I'm afraid I can't accept less than %nap gold."
"Are you certain you can't make it %nap gold? I'd agree to that."
shield Spell Breaker - Traduction
"Who sent you?" the young man to your right hisses, his pale face contrasted in
shadow and light. He examines your %ra features and calms. "My apologies,
friend. I am %an and I'm trying to avoid the agents of the Necromancers, who want
the information I have about the shield Spell Breaker. If you're interested in a
shield that would make any mage powerless against you, I can direct you for a mere
%oap gold. I need to be leaving %cn soon, so do we have a deal?"
"Ah, you're looking for Spell Breaker, are you?" A young man behind you in a black
cloak approaches and shakes your hand. "Came to the right inn and asked the right
man, you did. They call me %an, and I can show you exactly where Spell Breaker is hidden.
A mere %oap gold and you've bought all my knowledge the shield's wherebouts. What do you think?"
"Anticipating a big fight with a magus, kid?" The man to your left
nudges you and then drops his voice to a whisper. "It's %an at your service. I know how
you can find out where the Spell Breaker is, but I ain't going to tell you
for free. I'd find it myself, but I'd rather have %oap gold and leave the questing to
you. What do you say, %ra? Do we have a deal?"
"It seems you seek the shield, Spell Breaker, in earnest then. Well my good, %ra,
you would be one of many to find that which can negate even the most powerful
of magics. You do not need to seek far. King Rourken, last of the Dwarven Kings
had Spell Breaker fashioned for him in his war against the Wizard Shalidor.
It was lost in the final battle, and from time to time has reappeared in the
land. The clue to where it now lies seems to be in the Hammerfell province.
In my travels I stumbled upon an ancient text that speaks of a place called
the %amn. I quickly wrote down the location, then destroyed the text. I have
inscribed that location onto your map of the continent. It is there that you
will find a map to lead you to Spell Breaker. I wish you well on your quest..."
"Not even close. If that's all you have, don't waste my time."
"No chance, %ra. I hope you don't think this is all a joke."
"Forget it. You're not going to get the Spell Breaker for free, %ra."
"I've wasted enough time already. You can find me here for %dit days if you
get the money or change your mind. Leave me now."
"No hard feelings, %ra, but I look for other interested parties. I'll be here %dit
days if you want to think about it and get back to me. Until then, goodbye."
"I was prepared for reasonable haggling. I must say I'm disappointed. Come
back within %dit days if you're willing to negotiate. Goodbye."
"I understand your position, trying to get the best price you can. Let's say
%nap gold, shall we?"
"No, no, no. Let's try again. I'll tell you everything I know for %nap gold."
"Well, no. I can't accept any less than %nap gold."
Necromancer's Robes - Traduction
"Really?" The man next to you shakes your hand eagerly, "You want some information
about the Necromancer's Robes? Glad to meet you, I'm %an. I know this isn't a good
way to begin negotiating, but I've been trying to sell the information I have on their
location all day long and hardly anyone will talk to me. I think the Mages Guild in
%cn must be afraid. Well, they have caused me to lower my price. I'll tell you how to
find the most powerful magical relic in Tamriel for %oap gold. Do we have a deal?"
"Glad to hear you bring it up, %ra," says a young man
next to you. "I'm %an and I was just beginning to assume that no one in %cn has ever
heard of Mannimarco and his Necromancer's Robes. So you're in luck, %ra. My new price
for telling you exactly how to find the robes that will make any trickster into an
archmage is %oap gold pieces. As they say, take it or leave it."
A man strolls across the room to your side at the mention of the Necromancer's Robes.
He looks you over carefully before speaking. "You may have heard about me, %ra?
Well, at least you've heard of Mannimarco, the wizard whose robes you wish to possess.
You have needs and I have needs, mine being %oap gold. Being impecunious in %cn is so
tiresome, don't you know? Does this deal please you?"
"Excellent, %pcn, happy to do business with you. Now then, here is what I know. I
may not look like it, but I am of noble blood, a member of one of the first
families of High Rock. For century upon century, my family has been involved
in the politics of Arena. Most of the rulers in the family have been servants
for the good of the people, but occasionally a bad egg turns up like my great
uncle. When my father took the rulership from him, he found that my uncle had
a vast storeroom of items confiscated from travelers, including a map to
the place where the Necromancer's Robes are supposed to be now. Most of this he
returned to the rightful owners, but this map was lost in a place called the %amn.
If you go there, you should be able to find the map again, and use it to
locate the Robes. Now I must leave you. The gold you gave will help my father
restore some of our people. Good luck, %ra."
"Please don't insult me with pitiful offers. Tell me what you'll really pay for
the information, %ra."
"That's what I paid for your mother last night, but I want a lot more for
something worthwhile. Don't insult me again, %ra."
"I can understand bargain shopping, but you're being ridiculous. I'm going to
need a lot more than that."
"Well, you'll probably find me here for %dit days or so, provided the %cn
locals don't drive me out of the %ct. Come back if you change your mind."
"What a disappointment. Goodbye then. I'll be at %nt for %dit more days if
you change your mind."
"I understand your monetary situation. If it changes, I'm staying here %dit days
more. Please excuse me, %ra."
"Sorry, I've already turned someone down who offered that. What's your
reaction to %nap gold pieces?"
"A little backbone I like, %ra. Would you consider %nap gold instead?"
"Are you certain you can't make it %nap gold? I'd agree to that."
"You don't look like a museum curator," says the man next to you.
"You must have a practical interest in Auriel's Shield. My name is %an, if
you want to know. You probably know the story of how Cormelik made a map of
all of his expeditions to the Shield, right? Well, I know where one of his
maps is, and so can you for a mere %oap gold pieces. Do we have a deal?"
"You're an ambitious %ra, ain't you?" says a voice behind you. You turn to see a
figure, his thick %lp accent low and conspiratorial. "I like that.
You can call me %an: I was one of Cormelik's followers years ago, when he
was tracking all of the returning points of Auriel's Shield, and I
know where he put one of his maps. I'd go get it myself and sell it, but
then I'd be asking a lot more than %oap gold pieces. Surely you can afford that
much to recover Auriel's Shield?"
A shady-looking character leaves his table and joins you at the
bar. "I overheard you mention Auriel's Shield, %ra. If you're serious, I should
introduce myself, %an, former follower of Cormelik the Elder, the man who prophesized
all the Shield's returning points. You've heard he was unable to enter the true place himself,
mighty a warrior as he was? So do not think it is enough to get the map I know of. In addition, I
need %oap gold to justify telling you how to find the map itself. Do we understand one another?"
"Ah, I hope you know what fortune you've found today. It is in the nature of
people not to know how lucky they are. Take the case of a small group of acolytes
who journeyed across the province of High Rock. They stumbled upon a cave that
seemed to lead to deeper, darker depths. One of them read an inscription
in the entracne which indicated this place as the new resting place for a map to
Auriel's Shield. Imagine still their greater surprise when they told me,
hoping that as a follower of Cormelik the Elder, I could answer their
neophytical questions. I answered them indeed. Their blood now adornes this
city's sewers, as does their silence. I have no need of something such as
this Shield, said to be able to protect the user from any attack. You have
provided me with the money I require for arcane activities. Still, a deal
is a deal. The cave is called the %amn. Here, I have inscribed it onto your
map of the continent. Within its depths should be the map that will lead you
to Auriel's Shield. I wish you well on your journey..."
"Forget it, pal. You're going to have to do a lot better than that."
"If that's the best you can offer, just say goodbye. Otherwise, you're going to
have to make it more, %ra."
"I assume that was a joke. Please make me a legitimate offer, %ra."
"Sorry we couldn't help one another, %ra. I'm staying here at %nt for %dit
more days, so if there's a change in your courage or your purse size, look me up.
Goodbye."
"Oh well. I'll probably still be at %nt for %dit days with my offer standing.
Fare thee well, young %ra."
"Fine. Please excuse me while I look for truly adventurous parties. The offer
and I will be here for %dit days and then we're leaving fair %cn. Free advice:
come back with gold."
"That's a fair offer, but %nap gold pieces is an even more fair offer."
"I can't accept that, I'm afraid. I'd take %nap gold, though."
"I'd like to, but I can't accept that. Would you agree to %nap gold?"
"Watch your tongue, foolish %ra," growls the man next to you, barely looking into
your face. "Many have been murdered merely for mentioning the Blade, and, according
to some, their souls have been forever damned. If you are willing risk the odds and
become the new possessor of the Ebony Blade, I can tell you all you need to know
about recovering it. The current price for information is %oap gold. Do we have a
deal?"
"I think we can help each other, young %ra." A young man comes up
from behind you. "I'm %an, and I happen to know how to find the Ebony Blade itself,
the sword that can give the wielder all the energy it sucked from its victim. Not
very pretty, but perfect for frequent combatants. You can help me by giving me %oap
gold pieces. I find myself penniless here in %cn and I'm used to living better. Are
we agreed, my friend?"
"The Ebony Blade?" You are approached by a
gentleman, his voice unconnected, much older than his face. He
shakes your hand. "Call me %an. I know of this sword that draws your curiousity.
Maybe you've heard that it called the Leech or the Vampire, for every time its
wielder's enemies are hurt, he grows stronger. Perhaps that's morally wrong, perhaps
not. I can tell you how to find where this wicked blade is hidden, but it will cost
you %oap gold. Do you agree to pay this?"
"You seek a dire weapon indeed, %ra. The Ebony Blade sucks the very soul from
a person, transfering that lifeforce to you. I think you will be consigning
your everlasting soul to oblivion. It is your choice however. The map to the
Ebony Blade can be found in a place called the %amn. I have inscribed its location
onto your map of the continent. I wish you well on your quest. If you find
this map, it will lead you the Ebony Blade. Good luck, %ra. You'll need it..."
"Yeah, I don't think so. Make me a real offer, %ra."
"Forget it, pal. You're going to have to do a lot better than that."
"That was an insulting offer, %pcf. Make me an offer I might accept please."
"An offer like this comes once in a lifetime. You'll be sorry. I'll give you %dit
days to get back to me here before I move on. Excuse me now."
"Oh well. I'll probably still be at %nt for %dit days with my offer standing.
Fare thee well, young %ra."
"I knew I was wasting my time talking to you. If you can get back to %nt
within %dit days with my gold, we can still do business. Meanwhile, I must
leave you. Farewell."
"You're a good haggler, %ra. I'm afraid I can't accept less than %nap gold."
"Interesting offer, but %nap gold is the least I can accept in return for my
information. Come now, %ra, what do you think of that?"
"Sorry, I've already turned someone down who offered that. What's your
reaction to %nap gold pieces?"
"You want to know about the Warlock's Ring, kid?" The man to your left quaffs
his ale and turns to you, his eyes red from fatigue. "Name's %an. I can see from that
look in your eye you're interested in power. Well, the Ring has all the
defensive power of its maker, the Arch-Warlock Syrabane. Whether you can control it
or not isn't my concern. All I can do is show you how to find the Ring, and I'm
going to need %oap gold for that."
"I don't know what good it'll do you, kid," replies a deep %lp voice behind you. You
turn to see a figure standing in the shadows of the %nt. "From the looks of
you, you ain't no Syrabane. It'll protect ya from certain things, but folks
are known to get a bit foolhardy with that power. Might be dangerous. Still,
I'll tell you exactly how to find it if you're interested. And because I like your
guts, I'll only ask for %oap gold. What do you think?"
The man next to you laughs when you mention the Warlock's Ring. "You'll want
to talk to me about that then, %ra." His dark eyes lose their humor. "In the hands of
the Arch-Warlock Syrabane that Ring saved all Tamriel. In your hands, perhaps it
will be nothing more than a good defense against an aggressive Battlemage
or Nightblade. Still, I am in no position to chose to whom I wish to share my
information about the Ring's location. If you have %oap gold for me, all my knowledge
is yours. Agreed?"
"All right, I suppose we can do business then. The secret of Syrabane is in
the province of Morrowind, in a place called the %amn. You will find a map there
to the dungeons where the Warlock's Ring is said to return by Syrabane's
post-mortal magic. I have inscribed the location of this map onto your
continental map. I hope you use the Warlock's Ring wisely. It is a
powerful aid in reflecting spells..."
"There's a fine line between shrewd bartering and outright insults, and you've
crossed it. Make a legitimate offer this time."
"Ha. Make me a less amusing offer or stop wasting my time, %ra."
"Not even close, %ra. Is that the best you can offer?"
"What a disappointment. Goodbye then. I'll be at %nt for %dit more days
if you change your mind."
"Sorry we couldn't help one another, %ra. I'm staying here at %nt for %dit more
days, so if there's a change in your courage or your purse size, look me up. Goodbye."
"Fine. Please excuse me while I look for truly adventurous parties. The offer
and I will be here for %dit days and then we're leaving fair %cn. Free advice:
come back with gold."
"I understand your position, trying to get the best price you can. Let's say
%nap gold, shall we?"
"No, no, no. Let's try again. I'll tell you everything I know for %nap gold."
"I'd like to, but I can't accept that. Would you agree to %nap gold?"
"Fancy yourself a bit of an archer?" The man in the next seat
turn to you, unsmiling. "My name's %an and I think I can help you find that Bow. In
fact, I know I can, if you've got %oap gold for my information. Only fair, right?
Might sound like a lot, but you're getting exclusive knowledge about the wherebouts
of one of the greatest lost artifacts of Tamriel. So we have an agreement, %ra?"
The man behind you taps your shoulder the moment you mention Auriel's bow. "Someone
must've told you I'd be here," he says, his voice slurred with drink. "Everyone in
%lp knows if you want to find Auriel's Bow, %an's
the man you should talk to, and that's me. Maybe if someone else knew what I do, he'd
try and get the bow himself or make himself rich, but, you know, my
needs are modest. Everything I know about finding the bow can be bought for %oap gold
pieces. Interested?"
"Good day to you," a man to your right greets you.
"I'm %an, at your service. I'm the fellow you should speak with if you're interested in Auriel's
Bow. In the hands of an accomplished archer, as you no doubt are, the Bow could very
well be the deadliest weapon in Tamriel. Perfect, don't you think?
Anyhow, all I ask is %oap gold to show you exactly how the bow may be yours. Sound
good to you?"
"Yeah, okay, that works for me. So listen up, %pcf. You might've heard tales
about Auriel's Bow, famed by all archers as the most powerful bow to ever
exist. You're going to have to voyage to Valenwood, and find the map that leads
to this Elven artifact. I have gleaned the information on its whereabouts
from an ancient text given to me by the Elven Lord Alendis. The place is
called the %amn, and I will inscribe it onto your map of the continent. If you
can find the map, it should point out where Auriel's Bow has resurfaced..."
"Not even close. If that's all you have, don't waste my time."
"I like to think I have a good sense of humor, but you're wasting my time.
Either say goodbye or make a real offer."
"I can understand bargain shopping, but you're being ridiculous. I'm going
to need a lot more than that."
"%oth, I have other potential customers to see. Come back in the next %dit days
and you might find me here. Tata, %ra."
"I understand your monetary situation. If it changes, I'm staying here %dit
days more. Please excuse me, %ra."
"Well, you'll probably find me here for %dit days or so, provided the %cn locals
don't drive me out of the %ct. Come back if you change your mind."
"I'd like to, but I can't accept that. Would you agree to %nap gold?"
"Well, no. I can't accept any less than %nap gold."
"Interesting offer, but %nap gold is the least I can accept in return for my
information. Come now, %ra, what do you think of that?"
"What kind of %ra are you?" snorts the man to your left. "You a thief or just
thinking about becoming one? Doesn't matter to me anyhow. The Skeleton's Key is
not easy to find, mate, but the right person with the right information will be
able to do it. I don't know if you're good enough for it, but I can sell you
the right information for %oap gold. What do you say?"
The bartender looks at you suspiciously and then motions to a man in the shadowed
corner of the %nt, who steps forward. He is a young gentleman dressed in dark
clothing. "Name's %an, %ra. No one wants the Skeleton's Key to be found, except maybe
a few loner thieves. Nothing would be safe from the clutches of the
person who holds the key, you understand. I don't care, myself. All I need is %oap
gold to tell you exactly how to get the key yourself."
"I make it my business to know where things are," the young man to your left turns to
you, his breath stinking of many ales. "And I can tell you how to get the Skeleton's
Key yourself. I won't ask why you wish to have the power to open any lock or portal
you're probably no more nosy and covetous than I. In this case, I'll only
ask for %oap gold for the information that will lead to the the Skeleton Key.
You have that much money to spare, eh?"
"Ah, yes, my purse likes the sound of that. You'll find the Skeleton's Key in a
particularly unpleasant dungeon. Of course, no one except a few know where it
is, for the Key always chooses inaccessible places to hide. For benefit of
the historians, the first holder of the Key, Arrovan, made a map to each
of the Key's resting places, but for many years no one could find this one.
My contacts say the map is in a place called the %amn. I have inscribed the
location onto your map of the continent. I must leave you. Good luck, my %ra
friend..."
"Forget it, pal. You're going to have to do a lot better than that."
"Please don't insult me with pitiful offers. Tell me what you'll really pay
for the information, %ra."
"Ha. Make me a less amusing offer or stop wasting my time, %ra."
"I've wasted enough time already. You can find me here for %dit days if you get
the money or change your mind. Leave me now."
"I was prepared for reasonable haggling. I must say I'm disappointed. Come back
within %dit days if you're willing to negotiate. Goodbye."
"You don't even know what an excellent price I was offering. Ah well, I'll be here
for %dit more days if you change your mind. Pardon me now."
"I can't accept that, I'm afraid. I'd take %nap gold, though."
"I understand your position, trying to get the best price you can. Let's
say %nap gold, shall we?"
"That's a fair offer, but %nap gold pieces is an even more fair offer."
"Today's your lucky day, %ra," a young man appears at your side the
moment you mention the Ring of Phynaster. "I'm %an, and not only can I tell you
whatever you want to know about the Ring of Phynaster, I can show you just how you
can find it. All I'm asking for this wealth of information is %oap gold. A pretty
modest sum considering that soon you'll have nothing to fear from magic,
or poison. Are you willing?"
The innkeeper looks at you doubtfully and then signals to a young man seated at the
far end of the bar. He meanders over and shakes your hand. "Good to meet you, %pcf. I
go by the name of %an, and I'm just the man you want to speak to if you want to find
the lost Ring of Phynaster. It's not lost at all, you see. There's a
map that... well, why spoil the surprise? For a mere %oap gold pieces, I'll finish
my last sentence. Is it a deal?"
"There was a time when I'd be suspicious of a young %ra wandering in to the %nt and
asking about the commodity I'm selling," the young man next to you says gloomily.
"The Wharf Rats would rather have me dead than divulging the secret location of
the Ring of Phynaster. I can help you, if you're willing to part with %oap of your
hard-earned gold pieces. Before responding, just think of how much more you can earn
after the Ring has made you invulnerable to nearly anything a mage or a thief
can throw at you. Do we have a deal?"
"Very good, for now we can do business. You know that Phynaster was killed by the
Wharf Rats for his Ring? It's true. He was buried somewhere in the Forest of Elborn
and the Ring has ever since been stored in one of their hundreds of underground
headquarters. Even should the Ring be taken by thieves, a charm has been cast on
it so it will eventually return to one of the Rats' sanctuaries. The faction of the
Rats decided that the best place to hide the map to the Ring's most recent
resting place was in the a place called the %amn, in the Summurset Isle. I will
inscribe the location onto your map of the continent. If you can find the map,
it will lead you to the Ring of Phynaster..."
"If that's the best you can offer, just say goodbye. Otherwise, you're going
to have to make it more, %ra."
"I like to think I have a good sense of humor, but you're wasting my time.
Either say goodbye or make a real offer."
"Please don't insult me with pitiful offers. Tell me what you'll really pay for
the information, %ra."
"Oh well. I'll probably still be at %nt for %dit days with my offer standing
Fare thee well, young %ra."
"I hope you never know the power you passed up today. If you're smart,
you'll be back with gold in hand before %dit days pass and I leave %cn. Take
care of yourself."
"No hard feelings, %ra, but I look for other interested parties. I'll be here %dit
days if you want to think about it and get back to me. Until then, goodbye."
"Sorry, I've already turned someone down who offered that. What's your
reaction to %nap gold pieces?"
"No, no, no. Let's try again. I'll tell you everything I know for %nap gold."
"Sorry, I can't justify that. %nap gold seems fair. What do you think?"
King Orghum's Coffer - Traduction
"Well, I won't ask you how you knew who to question about King Orghum's Coffer." A
tall gentleman turns to you and shakes your hand. "Someone on the street
must have told you where %an was conducting his business. He or she probably doubted
my authenticity, given the suspicious nature of the %cn citizenry. I assure you that
if you follow my advice, you will be a very rich %ra. All I ask is %oap gold - a
small advance on your forthcoming salary."
You hear a snort of derisive laughter behind you. "Of course, everyone wants
to know if King Orghum's Coffer is a fact or a myth. But if they knew the
Coffer existed and where it is, how many would be brave enough to go after
them? Most people wish for a magic box always full of money, but are too
lazy or frightened to follow their dream. My name is %an and if you have the
will and %oap gold pieces, I will tell you how to find King Orghum's Coffer."
The man to your right looks at you strangely after you mention the coffer, as if to
analyse your intentions. "I am %an. I know how you may find King Orghum's Coffer and
I will tell you, for a price, of course. %oap gold pieces, to be exact. This may seem
like a lot of money, but with the Coffer, you will have a daily income most people in
%cn dream of making annually. I think the price is fair. Your reply, %ra?"
"Thank you very much, %ra. The gold will come in handy. I hope you can make
equally good use of my information. King Orghum lost his Coffer eighty or
more years ago, during one of the marine battles with the Emperor of Tamriel,
who was then Antiochus Septim. After the loss, Orghum's island kingdom of
Pyandonea ceased to be a world power - probably because the King could no
longer afford as great a fleet as before. The Coffer washed ashore on
Summurset Isle, where it was an elusive presence. If I were you, I'd go to
a place called the %amn, and see if you can find the map that leads to the
Coffer. I'll inscribe its location onto your map of the continent.
I wish you good luck."
"Yeah, I don't think so. Make me a real offer, %ra."
"Not even close, %ra. Is that the best you can offer?"
"There's a fine line between shrewd bartering and outright insults, and you've
crossed it. Make a legitimate offer this time."
"Oh well. I'll probably still be at %nt for %dit days with my offer standing.
Fare thee well, young %ra."
"No hard feelings, %ra, but I look for other interested parties. I'll be here
%dit days if you want to think about it and get back to me. Until then, goodbye."
"You don't know what you're passing up. Well, I must be leaving %cn in %dit
days, but you'll find me here until then if you come to your senses. Goodbye."
"A little backbone I like, %ra. Would you consider %nap gold instead?"
"Are you certain you can't make it %nap gold? I'd agree to that."
"I'd like to, but I can't accept that. Would you agree to %nap gold?"
"Good news travels fast, eh, %ra?" The brawny man on the next chair looks at you
humorlessly. "I was wondering how long it would take before every adventurer in %lp
showed up to beg me to tell them the location of the Ebony Mail. Who
wouldn't want to wear armor that makes you gives you such power, power no
spell can take away from you? Well, you can bet I'm not going to divulge my secret
for free. My current price is %oap gold pieces. Take it or leave it."
"Hey, %an!" the innkeeper yells, "This %ra wants to talk to you about the Ebony Mail!" You
are joined by a sober young man. "You're not the first person to
come here asking about the Ebony Mail," he says. "Lots of people like the idea of
getting a legendary item that gives them such power, but few have even almost the
%oap gold pieces I need to tell the secret location. Do you have it?"
A distinguished-looking man two seats away from you at the bar rises and joins you,
his voice a low growl. "You can call me %an, %ra. I'm the one who knows how to find
the Ebony Mail, the lost armor of the Drow that could make even you a hero.
Right now, I'm asking for %oap gold for my information - a preposterously low
price, but still more than most people in the %nt are able to pay, it seems."
"Exactly what I hoped you'd say. The bad news is you'll have to go to Black
Marsh to find the Mail, to a nasty little place called the %amn. There lies the
map to the spirit-forsaken dungeon holding the Ebony Mail. You'll find
that the map points out the place where the Dark Elven goddess Boethiah
hid the Mail after she took it from Helath Stormbinder, a warrior she no
longer favored. Rather like Kynareth and Morihaus, but that's another story.
I will inscribe the location of the %amn onto your map of the continent.
The map that will lead you to the Ebony Mail lies there. I doubt if Boethiah
even cares after all this time, but I'll wish you luck anyhow. Goodbye."
"I can understand bargain shopping, but you're being ridiculous. I'm going to
need a lot more than that."
"Not a chance, pal. Try again."
"I assume that was a joke. Please make me a legitimate offer, %ra."
"What a disappointment. Goodbye then. I'll be at %nt for %dit more days if
you change your mind."
"I've wasted enough time already. You can find me here for %dit days if you
get the money or change your mind. Leave me now."
"Sorry we couldn't help one another, %ra. I'm staying here at %nt for %dit
more days, so if there's a change in your courage or your purse size, look
me up. Goodbye."
"Sorry, I can't justify that. %nap gold seems fair. What do you think?"
"You're a good haggler, %ra. I'm afraid I can't accept less than %nap gold."
"I understand your position, trying to get the best price you can. Let's
say %nap gold, shall we?"
Ring of the Khajiit - Traduction
"So, you've heard of the Ring, have you, %ra?" the man next to you
nods his head. "Well, let me tell you all the legends about Rajhin and his
Ring of the Khajiit are absolutely true. There does exist such a Ring that endows its
wearer with many powers, including invisibility, and there is even a map to
its recent hiding place! I am %an, one of the few who know of its location.
Regretfully, I must sell the knowledge I have, but it won't be
cheap. %oap gold pieces is the minimum price I'll accept."
"Another hero like Rajhin in training, eh? Hoping to use the power of the Ring of the Khajiit
to rob the citizens of %cn or take advantage of opponents, perhaps? Good
for you, %ra." The man to your left very nearly smiles, but it is obviously
an unnatural expression for him. "I am %an of %cn2 and I can show you how you may
find the Ring and win the power of invisibility. I will require %oap gold of you to
prove your seriousness in this matter. How does that sound to you?"
"Do you even know what the Ring of the Khajiit is, %ra?" the big man in a black robe
to your right mutters. "You know it turns the wearer invisible, but are you aware of
the responsibility and power given to the Ring bearer? There was a time when I would
sooner die that give up the secret given to me by the spirit of Rajhin himself. %an
is not without honor. I will require no less than %oap gold pieces to betray my
friend and divulge the location."
"Well, yeah, I suppose we can do business on that. You might've guessed,
but I knew Rajhin myself. He was my friend. For months after he disappeared,
I spoke to a spiritualist, attempting to ascertain his condition. It all came
to naught, until a few weeks ago, when his spirit appeared before me.
He told me he was bound to appear and tell of the Ring of Khajiit, as long as it
was missing from the land. I know it lies in a dank abyss where it had
been hidden by the Underking. He also told me that a map exists to that
crypt. The map is in the %amn, somewhere in Black Marsh. I will inscribe
its location onto your map of the continent. Fare thee well, %ra."
"If that's the best you can offer, just say goodbye. Otherwise, you're going
to have to make it more, %ra."
"Not even close. If that's all you have, don't waste my time."
"Ha. Make me a less amusing offer or stop wasting my time, %ra."
"I was prepared for reasonable haggling. I must say I'm disappointed. Come
back within %dit days if you're willing to negotiate. Goodbye."
"An offer like this comes once in a lifetime. You'll be sorry. I'll give you %dit
days to get back to me here before I move on. Excuse me now."
"Fine. Please excuse me while I look for truly adventurous parties. The offer
and I will be here for %dit days and then we're leaving fair %cn. Free advice:
come back with gold."
"Sorry, I can't justify that. %nap gold seems fair. What do you think?"
"You're a good haggler, %ra. I'm afraid I can't accept less than %nap gold."
"That's a fair offer, but %nap gold pieces is an even more fair offer."
Game images and texts are Copyright Bethesda Softworks
