If you’ve ever been to Las Vegas, then you’ve probably been approached by some hopeful musician who’s trying to make a not-quite-honest buck. See, these people will kindly offer you a CD, telling you that you look like someone who would love it, and you’ll accept out of politeness (and as a way to end the conversation as quickly as possible). Yet then comes the grift: They’ll suddenly “remind” you that these CDs cost ten or twelve bucks. Since you already expressed your interest in the CD (even though you were lying), they can guilt you into a sale.
I don’t know what the Renaissance-era equivalent of this is would be (we didn’t cover grifting musicians in my Medieval History classes in college, unfortunately), but I’d like to imagine it looks something like the minstrels in Assassin’s Creed II. These merry melody-makers will follow Ezio around in an attempt at serenading him, which is rather inconvenient for a person who’s trying to keep a low profile.
Now, I should point out that I’m currently just playing Assassin’s Creed II for the story, so I’m blasting through the game at a fairly rapid clip. This means I don’t have time to play as a straight-and-narrow, law-abiding fellow. I steal all my money and murder anyone who gets in my way. Out of convenience, I assure you. It’s not like I’m a real monster or anything (well… that might not be completely true…)
So when my pure evil version of Ezio was approached by not one but two minstrels, I did what any normal, totally not sociopathic human being would do:
Merry Christmas, fellows.