The Newest Shop in Town...

The Newest Shop in Town...

Postby Rattrap » Wed Oct 22, 2003 12:53 pm

There had been, near the heart of Myrkentown, a construction upon and a remodeling of a particular building for some time. It had been halted at the various occurrences of apocalypse that had somewhat recently occurred, but the men continued nonetheless after each passing plague.

And now, it was complete. The place was constructed over the already existing stone building, simply adding on and repairing in necessary places. Now it stood, a glory to the carpenters that had hands in moving and binding the stones.

Their jobs were done. Now it was time for Harold to do his part.

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There was one obvious front door into the building, a heavy wooden one set on thick iron hinges. Two windows sat on either side of the door, encased wholly in stone. No other windows would be found, and the other door was at the other end of the building, opening into an alley shared by the adjacent buildings.

The entry room was simplistic, and was all a visitor was meant to see. There was a teak counter that extended for the greater length of the room, parting with a small wooden door that wasn't uncommon with bars and counters of its type. It was there to deter, but it would be silly to deny access altogether, for special occasions were always privy to declare themselves.

Behind the bar, and there was a decent amount of space back there, was a large case where an assortment of large, deadly weapons hung. A hulking battle-axe that clearly wasn't made for a human being hung over the rest, everything from a spiked club to a short sword to a ranseur to a katar. A display case, iron hooks holding each weapon in place, while even more iron bars kept the weapons from easy theft.

Four chairs, two against either wall adjacent to the front were available for anyone's leisure, and a long scroll of parchment was posted against the wall beside the door, listing the various items that could be sold - or made, at Harold's Smithy.

Soon enough, a sign declaring his business and his name would go up with the rest of the building, and now the thick, balding man ran a hand over his beard, simply waiting for the customers to roll in from the harsh environment of Myrken Wood.
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Looking for buisness...

Postby Vanidor » Wed Oct 22, 2003 5:06 pm

They would appear not too long after the doors opened at the new smithy. Five in all, dressed in the uniform of Thessilane. One, obviously an officer of some sort, stood at their head while the others hung back to linger about the entrance. A few were overlooking the various weaponry with obvious envy. They had their issued sabres, and the lances they used when in combat, but they were of a mass produced sort. Not that they were poorly made weapons, but these, here, were really really nice.

In either case, the officer to the front straightened the collar at his neck, a knot of golden thread caught the light, there. A clearing of his throat, then a glance around real quick like. A smile would be cast towards the balding man behind the counter, and the officer would step up to him extending a hand...

"Pardon me, Sir. I am Lieutenant Douglas Wainwright, and I would like to speak to Harold, or whome ever it is that runs this establishment. It is a matter that may proove beneficial to a number of parties..."

One should always be drunk. That's all that matters... But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you chose. But get drunk. - Charles Baudelaire


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Surprise surprise...

Postby Rattrap » Fri Oct 24, 2003 10:31 am

Harold was surprised that they had come so early, the customers - or, at least, potential customers. Hell, anyone at all. It was a good surprise, like winning a fortune in some game of chance.

Happy that his success versus time ratio was already quite spectacular, Harold greeted the five warmly, specifically the speaking commander of the bunch.


"Aye, I'm Harold. Welcome teh my smithy! What can I do fer yeh?"
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The order

Postby Vanidor » Fri Oct 24, 2003 3:29 pm

"A pleasure to make your aquaintance, sir. We are running into a minor problem at the stockade. All but one of our blacksmiths has travelled on with the various units that have departed on their missions, you see. And we need a quantity of horseshoes and lance-tips made." The Lieutenant glanced around for a moment or so. Looking over the goods that were displayed as his men already had.

"And I am here to ask if you would be willing to take on the contract for some. Say, either fifty sets of horseshoes or two hundred lance-tips. There would be extra if you were willing to put the ends on the lances themselves, we can supply the wood..."

And the Lieutenant would wait with a slight smile etched into his features....

One should always be drunk. That's all that matters... But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you chose. But get drunk. - Charles Baudelaire


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Postby Rattrap » Sat Oct 25, 2003 8:33 am

"I can't rightly turn it down! I'd be happy teh put the lance heads on fer yeh, but that'll take a bit longer."

The man of average height smiled beside himself, quite happy to meet such business - big business - so immediately. This was a perfect place to set up shop after all.

"Standard pricen' - but I can tell yeh yeh won't find better quality without travelin' some hefty distance. Just give me somethin' to look over an' sign, and we'll have ourselves a contract!"
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Postby Vanidor » Wed Oct 29, 2003 8:42 pm

OOC Note: Sorry about the delay, work kicked my butt the last couple of nights... Anyway.

-----

"How long would you expect such an undertaking to take, Master Harold? You see... There's a task that needs to be seen too, if you understand. And I... well, we. That being. Those of us who remain with the Duke, have something we want to do for him, you see." The officer paused for a bit. Then scratched at his throat, cleared it, then continued... "To lift his spirits some. You've heard, I suspect? His wife was abducted right under his nose, and he's taken it rather hard. The other commanders and I want to do something special, and this order would really be a help. We... just would like to get it done as quickly as we can."

The Lieutenant offered a slight smile. There was some anticipation in his eyes, there. Hope, perhaps, that the smith would be able to do the job in some quick order. A motion of his hand at the other four soliders, who in turn left the shop. One a bit forlornly. Most likely he'd be back to buy that sword he'd been looking at... "Anyway. Thank you again, Master Harold. When would you like us to deliver the lance points..."

One should always be drunk. That's all that matters... But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you chose. But get drunk. - Charles Baudelaire


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Postby Rattrap » Thu Oct 30, 2003 3:05 pm

Harold scratched his head, nibbling on his lip a bit. He didn't want to look entirely obvious while the commander spoke in the fact that he hadn't heard; but he had just got here, after all, even if the building had been underway for some time.

"Aye. I'm sorry teh hear it."

Both his thick, black palmed hands returned to the countertop.

"I'll start workin' on those heads right away. Go 'head 'n deliver 'em whenever yeh find it convenient. Yeh send someone in 'bout a week, and I should be pretty close teh finishin' 'em."
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Postby Vanidor » Sun Nov 09, 2003 5:31 am

OOC Note: Again! Sorry for the lag in postage. Blast these graveyard jobs...

-----

A few hours would pass before a couple of wagons would make their way to the shop. Headless lenghts of wood. Thick and ment for continued use, at least if it were possible. And a number of heads as well. Each a good foot or so long, with a cross-piece after the first eight inches. Winged, so that they made a four-pointed star, after a fashion.

These were delivered to the shop, along with a purse of coin with a letter attached to it. The hand that wrote ti was bold and strong, the penmenship curving in a noble fashion. One of breeding penned the missive, that was for certain. At the bottom, by the signature (which was flourished) was pressed the royal sigil of the country of Thessilane - A golden hawk in flight.

Master Harold,

Thank you for accepting the charge brought to you by my officer. Here is a third of the payment, more or less, up front. I am not certain as to the details hammered out between yourself and the Lieutenant, but the rest, plus comission, will be delivered when the materials are completed. Again, thank you for this, and I pray that perhaps this may be the start of a new working relationship.

Signed,
Lord Burel Tassnehof
Duke of Thessilane
Knight-General of the Companions
Marshall of the Army of the Meadowlands


One should always be drunk. That's all that matters... But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you chose. But get drunk. - Charles Baudelaire


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Postby Rattrap » Tue Nov 11, 2003 4:22 am

Harold would go out to meet the wagons, greeting the men and helping them unload all the shafts and heads. He'd received the letter and the coin purse, but tucked them away to deal with after everything was settled. No use in keeping the men waiting...

He eyeballed the first head he saw, pulling it away from the others to examine it. Harold chuckled, muttering to himself,
"They're alweys lookin' fer the fancy stuff..."

The blacksmith saw the men off, telling them to stop by in a week or two to check on his progress before returning to the shop where Harold would immediately start working to create molds for the new heads...
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