A Necessary Evil

[Sir Walter]

Sir Walter was torn mentally. On one hand he wanted to give all his gold to help the poor and other people who were worst off than him. On the other hand, he needed some new weapons to better serve the people.

Dragging his steel clad bones through the market, he weighed his options. Finally, the knight decided that new weapons would be a necessary evil that he would have to commit to be able to properly defend the helpless. Taking a look around, the undead saw bright colorful blacksmith shops all around through the narrow slits in his visor. They had bright advertisements on the latest weapon designs with metals Sir Walter only heard about in stories.

"No, these shops won't do. They are just out for money and profit. I should find someone who needs the money and is a honest and righteous person."

On a sudden impulse, he turned down a nearby alley. The shops here were definitely poorer. The signs had cracks running through them and the paint was peeling off the boards. He passed by a few of them before setting his eyes on “The Faithful Sword.”

Entering, Sir Walter saw that this shop had clearly seen better days. The interior boards were had cracks running through them. There was a few places in the roof that had been patched up. While there were good weapons, the knight observed many gaps in the weapon racks where the smith probably didn't have the money and resource to make a new weapon to fill. However, despite the appearance, Sir Walter could clearly see that the smith had done his best to keep the weapons clean and sharp. The prices might be a bit higher than some other shops but these weapons had clearly been carefully made. He could not find any flaws in the steel mace and axe he picked up to inspect. And there was a warm feeling that reminded the paladin of all the wonderful people back at his home.

Feeling the weight of a few weapons, Sir Walter decided on an one handed steel mace and two handed steel axe. Putting them on the counter, he began searching for a suitable dagger to match. Finding a medium sized steel one, he added it to the pile.

”It looks like the lances are either in the backroom or this smith does not have any,” he thought as he took one last look around the small shop.

Stepping up to the counter and saying a small prayer, he rang the worn but carefully maintained bell.

Would like a price check on the steel axe, mace, and dagger. Also, thinking of an oak lance with a steel tip but looks like the shop might not have it. I don't mind playing this story out a bit for fun if you don't mind.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

Jamen emerged from a small door at the back of the shop, having heard the small bell tinkling. No doubt more of Hardy's boys here to try and extort protection money from him. The small, but stocky smith spat in a bucket as he passed, hefting the smithing hammer from his belt loop as he came in sight of the counter. Damn hooligans weren't making hard times any easier, that was for sure.

"You'll get no more fr--" he stopped talking as he saw the large armoured figure standing in his store.

A customer? Surely not!

"Sorry, sir - thought you were someone else," he smiled apologetically, putting his hammer away and wiping his soot-blackened hands on a once-white square of cloth.

He glanced about, once again feeling slightly embarassed at the poor state of his beloved shop. He didn't often get anyone in these days, not with all the other smiths set up on the adjoining streets.

"How can I help you today, sir?" he inquired before his eyes alighted on the weapons in the man's gauntleted fists.

"Aaaah! I see you've come for business. Gods be praised," he smiled warmly, running ash-stained fingers through his sparse, patchy beard. "Well, she may not look like much out front here, but my shop's as good as any, and her steel be true."

He gestured at the weapons the customer had set down on the counter. As he leaned over to check the blades, Jamen wrinkled his nose, getting a scent of something unpleasant on the air. He looked around, hoping his customer didn't smell whatever it was.

It smelled dead.

"Well sir," he started, mentally tallying the price for everything the knight had selected from his admittedly limited stocks, "that will set you back.."

He paused a moment, weighing up the risks of his normal prices against offering a slight reduction; it might drum up more business, but if it didn't, he was at a loss. Decisions, decisions.

"Two-hundred and eighty-five gold pieces."

[Sir Walter]

Sir Walter saw the stocky storekeeper come in from the back door of the shop. It seems like the shop had really fallen on hard times because the first reaction was an aggressive hammer draw and a "You'll get no more fr--".

Fortunately, the short muscular smith realized that Sir Walter was a customer and not a thief and put the dangerous looking hammer down.

"How can I help you today, sir? Aaaah! I see you've come for business. Gods be praised," the shopkeeper smiled across the worn wooden counter. "Well, she may not look like much out front here, but my shop's as good as any, and he steel be true."

"Well sir," the smith said as he was obviously thinking about the prices of the weapons. "that will set you back.. Two-hundred and eighty-five gold pieces."

“Prices have gone up a lot in the 100 years I've been dead,” thought Sir Walter as he wondered what to do.

“I'm sorry if my voice scares you. I have a 'certain' disease eating away at my body which is causing my voice to be like this and the smell you might be sensing,” the undead knight said trying his best to sound warm and friendly. Unfortunately, it probably came out closer to chilling curse.

“I would like to thank you for your kind offer good Sir. I believe you to be a good and honest man. The craftsmanship of these weapons indicate much care and attention to the smallest details,” Sir Walter continued trying his best to keep the deathly tone out of his voice.

“Unfortunately, I be but a poor knight with only 200 gold coins on me. Could you tell me the individual prices so I better choose among these well-crafted weapons? Also, does this store have any lances? If so, would you be so kind as to tell me the price?”

Hoping the chilling talk didn't scare the storekeeper, Sir Walter gave a small bow of respect and stepped back a bit to hopefully reassure the storekeeper of his honest intents.

Sir Walter would like the prices of each weapon independently so he better figure out what he can buy. Also, he would like to ask if the store has any lances (Probably oak with a steel tip).

For the axe, I talked with Aurelianus in chat and what Sir Walter put on the table was a steel two handed, double sided axe.

[Amber Eyes]

She stood in the back of the shop, searching through the wares for a blade or two for the new recruits. It seemed they broke more blades in practice than bodies in the war. When the door opened Kyla took only the smallest of glances before going about her business. She kept her ears at attention though, and overheard most of the conversation. The stranger seemed to be a little light on coins. The girl felt her own purse, jiggling the gold around and staring at the swords she had decided upon. She could either help the stranger or bring back the swords, but there wasn't enough to cover both needs. Screw it, some of the boys can beat at each other with their fists, maybe then they'll learn to take care of equipment.

The mystic walked towards the counter, careful to breathe through her mouth. She tossed the coin purse on the counter with a smile and exited the shop, "There's about three hundred gold in that bag, I hope you find the lance your looking for. Oh, and if you ever pass by Ixian Castle feel free to stop by and say hello."

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

Jamen wasn't quite sure what to say.

It wasn't that he saw such acts of charity, and even less common when they performed by one of the daughters of the great Sei Orlouge. He blinked slowly, watching the girl leave the store before his gaze roamed to the heavy pouch of gold on the counter. The man weighed it in a hand, and wasn't surprised to find she had not been lying - three hundred gold coins sat bundled in the leather pouch.

"Well," he said quietly, glancing at the knight before him, "looks like you have a friend. And a friend like that ain't to be sniffed at, no sir."

The gold was enough to cover the cost of the weapons on the counter, and then some. He held his finger up to the armoured figure, starting to back out into a small storage room at the back of the store. He vanished from sight, and Sir Walter could hear the short man rummaging through crates and boxes. There were a few muttered curses, followed by hasty entreaties for forgiveness from a handful of gods before the soot-covered smith returned, bearing a lance in his hands.

The weapon was a solid length of oak, plain but sturdy, bearing a well-polished and razor-keen steel tip. With the extra gold Ms. Orlouge had provided, the knight could just afford the weapons and no more.

"She's not much to look at, sir, but I assure you this will serve you true."

Laying the weapon down reverently, Jamen smiled up at the blank visor of the customer. Waving his hands over the assembled arsenal, he was glad to see the man wasn't frowning on the quality of the blades; true, Jamen wasn't as fancy or ostentatious as some of the other smiths in the area, his work was good, and he loved his craft.

"Well, this all comes to three-hundred, my friend. But, Ms. Orlouge has covered the cost for you. Is there anything else I can help you with today, sir?"

[Sir Walter]

Sir Walter was struck speechless as the young beautiful lady walked to the counter and put down a coin purse to cover the rest of the cost. If he were still alive, he would have cried for the wonderful kindness shown to a poor humble knight.

"There's about three hundred gold in that bag, I hope you find the lance your looking for. Oh, and if you ever pass by Ixian Castle feel free to stop by and say hello."

As a knight, he was about to refuse the very kind offer. However, the lady walked out the door before the undead had a chance to reply. Humbled by the very generous act, Sir Walter swore on his honor that he would put it to good use and pay back the money as soon as he could.

"Well," the smith said quietly, glancing at the knight before him, "looks like you have a friend. And a friend like that ain't to be sniffed at, no sir."

“Yes, a friend is worth giving one's life for,” the knight softly replied as he remembered the numerous sacrifices made in the defense of his hometown. Sir Walter was so absorbed by the memories that he barely noticed the smith going into the storage room.

After a short while, the smith broke the stream of painful memories by returning with a solid oak lance from the backroom. "She's not much to look at, sir, but I assure you this will serve you true. Well, this all comes to three-hundred, my friend. But, Ms. Orlouge has covered the cost for you. Is there anything else I can help you with today, sir?"

“That is all this poor knight needs. Please use my 200 gold first and then return any leftover gold to the generous young lady,” Sir Walter answered the smith as he now began thinking how he could repay this Ms. Orlouge.

Opps, I just realized I stupidly replied on Sanste's account. Well, now I deleted that post and put it from Sir Walter's account. Sorry for the mess.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

Transaction Completed.

[Max Dirks]

300 GP deducted from Amber Eyes.

50 EXP to Aurelianus Drak'shal.
50 EXP to Sir Walter.