[Balthier's eyebrow raises, a twitch, at that title, the way Dorian tosses it around like a punchline. He likes your roll too, Dorian, and the grin on his face loosens just a bit, less tight-lipped smugness and more genuine interest.

Just a bit, though. No need for him to make his new friend full of himself, and Balthier's practiced enough that all his tells are deliberate on his part.

Though the wine might change that. Best to avoid that third glass.]

Balthier. Likewise, m'lord. [He says it with a grin, like a joke between old friends, then moves on.]

I'd call myself the leading man, but that story's become a little muddled, of late. A twist is all well and good, but this is rather out of left field for a rogue like myself.

I can value a jewel as much as the next man, [Balthier taps his own chest, twice, right where they'd said the shard was.] but all this talk of duty doesn't sit well with me. Shardbearer, chosen, important - conscript might be more apt. I've no interest in a war where the winner gets nothing and the loser gets...

[He chews on his choice of word, for once, thinks it over long and hard.]

Nothing, in a a different sense.