Amen
02-21-11, 01:55 AM
Marcus Book slowed his pace as he rounded a corner and entered the dwarven section of the bazaar. Behind him and to the left he could still hear the merchants from Fallien calling out to passersby in their throaty, lyrical language. He remembered the scent of spices carried on the wind, but now the air was heavy with smoke and the thankfully distant odor of the dwarven tanneries.
The young paladin checked his coin purse one last time. He did not have money of his own, of course, but his order sometimes granted allowances to squires in situations like this. He needed equipment and was not yet a blooded knight, so simply visiting the local quartermaster was out of the question. No, he would need to purchase his arms and armor like anybody else. And Marcus Book wanted the best, which meant finding dwarven craftsmen.
He was unaccustomed to wandering the bazaar without his mentor, but not entirely intimidated by the process. He had been sent to purchase goods and equipment for others in the past, and had some experience in the art of haggling and a basic understanding of business, but it was a strange sensation to walk the streets with money he was to spend on himself. He steered toward a stout building connected to an open smithy first, and mindfully bowed his head as he stepped through the door frame.
Book was by no means a tall man, but he immediately felt confined in the dwarven-built shop. The ceiling was only a few inches overhead, and the space was cave-like – solely illuminated by a small fire in the far corner. The architecture, however, was admirably sturdy and, in a way, cozy.
After considering the room itself, Marcus began looking over the merchandise. He did not yet see a shop keep, but he figured the owners did not have to concern themselves with thieves: the goods here were heavy and loud, it would be difficult to grab anything and run and hope to get far without at least being spotted. He approached a shield hung from a hook on the wall to his left, taking it as an example. It was a large, round wooden affair reinforced with and rimmed in metal, and he turned the back of his hand to it and tapped his fingernail against the glinting material along the rim.
“Steel?” he said, turning around as he heard heavy footfalls approaching from behind.
The young paladin checked his coin purse one last time. He did not have money of his own, of course, but his order sometimes granted allowances to squires in situations like this. He needed equipment and was not yet a blooded knight, so simply visiting the local quartermaster was out of the question. No, he would need to purchase his arms and armor like anybody else. And Marcus Book wanted the best, which meant finding dwarven craftsmen.
He was unaccustomed to wandering the bazaar without his mentor, but not entirely intimidated by the process. He had been sent to purchase goods and equipment for others in the past, and had some experience in the art of haggling and a basic understanding of business, but it was a strange sensation to walk the streets with money he was to spend on himself. He steered toward a stout building connected to an open smithy first, and mindfully bowed his head as he stepped through the door frame.
Book was by no means a tall man, but he immediately felt confined in the dwarven-built shop. The ceiling was only a few inches overhead, and the space was cave-like – solely illuminated by a small fire in the far corner. The architecture, however, was admirably sturdy and, in a way, cozy.
After considering the room itself, Marcus began looking over the merchandise. He did not yet see a shop keep, but he figured the owners did not have to concern themselves with thieves: the goods here were heavy and loud, it would be difficult to grab anything and run and hope to get far without at least being spotted. He approached a shield hung from a hook on the wall to his left, taking it as an example. It was a large, round wooden affair reinforced with and rimmed in metal, and he turned the back of his hand to it and tapped his fingernail against the glinting material along the rim.
“Steel?” he said, turning around as he heard heavy footfalls approaching from behind.