Post by Derek Coll on Mar 6, 2016 17:49:54 GMT -7
*Armour and weapons were bought at 50% cost using the craft skills*
Down in the southern slums in a little lane without much foot traffic the sounds of a smith's hammer echoed up and down the way off the graffitied stone walls. By the front door of a modest shop a plaque reads Grendel's Ironworks; and from within an abrupt clang of metal on wood and raised voiced joined the steady beating of the hammer. Poised over one side of the counter stands a woman scowling as she argues with a unkempt dwarf leaning on a crutch behind the counter. Between them are scattered some broken pieces of farm tools, the object of their discord. "Listen lady, those tools I forged for you were fine. It's not my fault if you cant use them right!" , "Cant - ? Are you serious! The craftsmanship was shoddy and you are a swindler!" A loud hiss and the sounds of spitting water emit from the smith in the other room. Moments later a tall and broad half-orc lumbers from the smith, mottled grey-green skin, pronounced tusks and upturned hog-like nose, garbed in simple tunic, pants, and a smiths apron. Silently he hands across the table a well wrought spade.. Taking it for inspection the woman nods. "This is what I'm talking about. I can accept this in replacement of those that broke if you can make 3 more like this". The half-orc nods and the woman shoulders the spade and says "Good, ill return for them later" and then turns to leave. When the shop is empty the messy dwarf smacks the half orc ineffectively in the stomach "Damn it Flint who said you could go and hand out spades for free?! I took you on here in my shop out of the goodness of my heart. Not many people would hire your kind you know! Keep this up and you'll be out on the street! I wont let your stupidity loosing my profit! Now clean this up!" And the dwarf limps away on his crutch, leaving Flint to quietly pick up his employers poor handiwork.
Down in the southern slums in a little lane without much foot traffic the sounds of a smith's hammer echoed up and down the way off the graffitied stone walls. By the front door of a modest shop a plaque reads Grendel's Ironworks; and from within an abrupt clang of metal on wood and raised voiced joined the steady beating of the hammer. Poised over one side of the counter stands a woman scowling as she argues with a unkempt dwarf leaning on a crutch behind the counter. Between them are scattered some broken pieces of farm tools, the object of their discord. "Listen lady, those tools I forged for you were fine. It's not my fault if you cant use them right!" , "Cant - ? Are you serious! The craftsmanship was shoddy and you are a swindler!" A loud hiss and the sounds of spitting water emit from the smith in the other room. Moments later a tall and broad half-orc lumbers from the smith, mottled grey-green skin, pronounced tusks and upturned hog-like nose, garbed in simple tunic, pants, and a smiths apron. Silently he hands across the table a well wrought spade.. Taking it for inspection the woman nods. "This is what I'm talking about. I can accept this in replacement of those that broke if you can make 3 more like this". The half-orc nods and the woman shoulders the spade and says "Good, ill return for them later" and then turns to leave. When the shop is empty the messy dwarf smacks the half orc ineffectively in the stomach "Damn it Flint who said you could go and hand out spades for free?! I took you on here in my shop out of the goodness of my heart. Not many people would hire your kind you know! Keep this up and you'll be out on the street! I wont let your stupidity loosing my profit! Now clean this up!" And the dwarf limps away on his crutch, leaving Flint to quietly pick up his employers poor handiwork.
