One of those interesting people is standing shadily on a street corner and looking at nearby elves. One of his hands is in his pocket. He's unusually dark for someone in Ferelden. Unusually human, too, though he's hunched over so that it's not immediately obvious. And he's muttering to himself, which is a sure way to make people not want to look at someone.
The things he's muttering to himself aren't the ravings of a madman, though. "Not her, I'm sure she'd just rupture... couldn't get him... promising. Excuse me, young man?" he quavers in the voice of an old beggar. "Spare a silver?"
And Tev has lots and lots of delicious food, not very many snails, and nobody asking him difficult questions. Life is pretty great.
Tev is sort of sad that there is no more food, but this is hilarious.
"I noticed," says Tev.
"I know nothing about any of this," says Tev. "Recommend me something and I'll listen."
"Sword," he decides.
Tev looks between the longsword and the... longersword. He looks at Duncan. He tries to think of how to ask the question.
"I like the look of the greatsword," he says. "The longsword's all right too, but I don't know, it seems a little... small."
The greatsword is slightly awkward to lift one-handed, but Tev gets the hang of it pretty quickly.
"We may want to lop a bit off the hilt," notes Duncan. "Actually, we might want to get it replaced entirely... hm. I'll see about getting one of Jahenna's old swords for you, they're all exquisitely balanced and perfectly constructed and all that. She's finicky about that kind of thing. But this'll do as a practice blade until then."
"Okay," Tev says agreeably.
"I'll take leather armour."
"Thank you. I feel very appropriate."