[Trinket is a good chaperone and doesn't do much else but watch her until Vex returns. Then he comes and sits by the ranger's chair as she pours herself a drink. Depending on how this conversation goes, she might get some wine or some ale. She'll save that for later though.]

Well, despite your utter lack of skill with a bow and your spectacular destruction of both my flex machine and practice arrows, I know the musculature of a killer. My brother and I were trained from the age of ten by tutors hired by our father, as are all children of the nobles of Syngorn, in all arts of assassination. Mostly as a form of self-defense, since proper Elven society is anything but proper.

[She takes a drink of her water, savoring the clean taste of it while she speaks of something that normally leaves her feeling dirty.]

So, don't take this as anything against you. I don't know why you feel the need to hide behind this ruse you've built up, but you'd probably get a lot further—at least with me—if you were honest about your own training.