“This is a Validus sword. Observe the golden hilt, finely engraved by Ignius Faraday himself. Faraday’s wife, Evelyn the Wise, imbued the blade’s iron with dwarven magic. Wielders of Validus have said that to hold it is to know the sun’s power radiating through your body.”

Roark rolled his eyes. “Enough with the rigmarole. How much?”

The magic glow on the merchant’s face disappeared. “500 shillings,” he said.

Roark’s eyes bulged, “500 shillings?? For a child’s toy? I could buy a sword of eternal destiny for 200 at that vendor over there.”

“Did you miss the bit about the sun radiating through your body? Do you think an experience like that just happens? 450 shillings. Lowest I’ll go.”

“350 or I walk.”

“400.” said the merchant, a stolid look in his eyes.

“You sir,” said Roark “just lost a sale.” He turned away slowly, letting his boot heels dig into the dirt for effect.

A passing baker noticed the smug confidence on Roark’s face and felt a fleeting urge to smack him with a baguette, a feeling most strangers had when they came across his handsome mug.

“380!” called the merchant.

 Roark swiveled around so quickly he nearly knocked the baker’s cart over. “You drive a hard bargain! I’ll take it!”