"Don't deserve it? Jax if anyone deserves this it's you," Morthos went up and put his arm around her as she looked through the window. "I know my money doesn't mean anything to you, I look like a homeless person with that cloak on. Do you want me to put it back on? It's in one of these bags we have." He chuckled and kept talking, "Jax it's because you don't care about my money that I want to spend it on you. Or rather, with you. You're my friend, really my only friend, and what's the point of friends if you can't spoil them?"

Morthos was quiet a moment then had an idea, "how about this? You tell me why you think you don't deserve the scythe, and I'll tell you why you're wrong. If I convince you you accept my generous gift and crown me your best friend, deal?" Thinking of Valgotl, Morthos had heard that sometimes he watched people outside his shop, listening to them to see if they were worthy of his master craftsmanship. Morthos wondered if he was listening right now.