by Stygian » Sun Nov 09, 2014 4:21 pm
When Vara stepped within the recently opened smithy, a brown and white bulldog roused itself from its resting place beneath one of the workbenches and lumbered over to Vara with a rolling gait. It sat on its haunches and stared up expectantly at the young noblewoman, and gave her a series of grunts by way of greeting, just to be absolutely sure that she'd taken notice of his presence. She calls out for the shop's proprietor, who was presently at the grindstone in the back of the shop, smoothing the burrs off an iron pot left behind by the seam where the two halves of the mold had met when he cast it.
The dwarven smith stopped pumping the pedals that spun the grindstone and set the pot aside, and rose from the stool he'd been sitting on to greet the young Lady who'd come to call. He certainly hadn't expected to see her here after the chilly reception he'd received the last time he tried to speak to her. The distant haughtiness was absent today, and this made Razmig all the more curious about what had brought about such a change.
"You seem to be recovering well, Lady Vara. You're feeling much improved, I hope? To what do I owe the honor of a visit today?"