Legend of Ransera

Aurin smirked at the compliment. Most of his smiles were crooked like that, but one got the sense that he was sharing a joke with them rather than making them the butt of it.

"Sometimes you have to make your calculations quickly," he admitted. He had become quick when it came to the calculus of the deal. So many aspects were difficult to quantify, to monetize, but he was content to cede actual coin for hooks and favors. If Ivar Shipper thought being generous and magnanimous was a good way to win his good humor, it was certainly a start.

"I never was much of a one for schooling," he admitted, "but I figure quickly, and I remember quite a bit. He wasn't a regular when I still worked here, but people tend to share their secrets with bartenders and such. Never underestimate the allure of an ear without judgment and a shoulder to cry on. And a steady source of intoxicants." He laughed.

Aurin had learned mostly from observation, though he had begun to read books from time to time. They gave him more context to draw upon when it came to being a bullshit artist. And for all that he occasionally rolled his eyes at the artistic director of the theater, he was learning quite a bit from him, at least in terms of art and aesthetics, drawing his own connections to the song and dance of the courtesans and what he knew from before Kalzasi. He could at least approximate the veneer of education and sophistication when the need arose.

"Have you checked out Ale'Ephirum yet? For magical supplies and... hm, information about those who practice magic in Kalzasi?" If he had or if he hadn't, Ivar might be the right person to send there for information, being of the same cut of cloth as those who identified as mages, unlike Aurin who just saw himself as a man with varied tricks up his sleeve.

Aurin's laugh was amiable enough.

"Not many academics would agree with you," he noted wryly. "At least the ones I've met have thought higher education was the be all and end all of intelligence and wisdom. Anyway, I'm not sensitive about it. My wits are sharp enough to get me by. But I would imagine that with the dangers of magic, it would be better learned from a master than by trial and error."

He had gotten a crash course in Masquerade and Semblance way back in the day, and managed not to fry his own brains. Having Valencia initiate him and then continue to train him in Traversion, though, he had learned faster and felt more confident taking on new challenges. As for Ale'Ephirum, he had steered clear. The proprietor was a gravity well of power and he didn't want to hazard a bet that he could mask his aura from someone so powerful.

The ginger laughed again at Ivar's eager questioning.

"I have a job next door," he said. "But if you were in the possession of secrets from the Tower or Ale'Ephirum, I'm certain I could help you fence them."

Aurin wasn't afraid of getting his hands dirty, but often as not anymore, he would delegate things, the better to oversee the big picture. Of course, he didn't delegate his trips to Zaichaer's ruins or the like. Some things were better done oneself.