A Broad Incision sits across the Evening...

[Tobias Stalt]

Dark clouds washed across the sky as a lone figure slipped into one of the many tents among the bazaar. A golden eye peered back for a long second, as though paranoid, before disappearing completely.

The man, hooded and cloaked, walked with purpose toward the counter, and he waited for someone to notice him. Tobias disliked the idea of moving subtly, but he had heard whispers about someone tracking him.

It was best not to take chances. "I'd like to buy a set of daggers," he said when the fellow behind the counter acknowledged him at last. "Damascus. Curved. Not for concealing. For cutting."

He left the rest of the talk to the merchant.

[Erikar]

Clint watched the man walk up to his tent with a speculative eye. The customer walked in shadow, hooded from view; he had the look a hunted man. His request came as no surprise to the grizzled merchant. He had seen enough of his type in his life.

He turned and studied the myriad of knives and swords assorted on pallets behind him. Scanning through his wares quickly, he settled on a pair or twin Damascus blades (http://www.ancientarms.biz/catalog/kirpan.jpg), about 12" total in length. Clint unsheathed the finely-crafted daggers and inspected them each with an experienced eye, grunting in satisfaction.

His visage was the embodiment of stoicism; he set the daggers on the counter without even a smirk.

"400 sovereigns for the pair. They're of the finest damascus, hand-crafted in Alerar. You won't find better blades anywhere." He stated firmly.

[Tobias Stalt]

Tobias had gained an eye for blades during his time in Alerar, and further when he had forged Blackheart with the Sage. He could see quality in the Damascus, skill in the elegant curvature of both blades, tedium in the focus on shaping. He held a hand out quietly, asking without words to test the weight of one of the weapons. It would be better to feel it than to simply look stupidly.

"You are not a Smith yourself?" Tobias asked as he waited for the man to hand him the weapon. It was not small talk in the proper sense; if this man had not crafted the weapons himself, he could not guarantee their quality beyond his own word. Tobias had a very specific way of talking that came off abrasive, but he was effective at making his words count. Tobias was certain his question would come off offensive. He counted on it.

With a merchant who did not mince words, you had to jam a verbal blade under their skin to pry their lips open. Once the emotions were hot, it was just like a forge. Malleable. Easier to persuade. Easier to glean what needed to be known. Tobias had learned much in his travels, and things like this gave him a chance to put it to work.

[Lye]

As the two men conversed, the sound of fluttering wings drew near. A raven, strained by the weight of its cargo, fluttered in through the door. Its wings flapped wildly, and it barely made landing upon the counter. The bird flipped wing over wing until is came to rest and scuttled to its feet. The bird cocked its head. It looked to Tobias and loosed a squawk. With a couple hops, each with a faint jingle, the bird bounced to his hands. Its beak pecked for his finger, then at awkwardly large message strapped to its leg.

"What have we here?" The merchant gripped the bird. It did not put up a fuss. With a tug, the message came loose from its leg and a single Raiaeran gold piece clambered against the counter.

"Raiaeran gold!" the merchant exclaimed. "These are easily worth a hundred of the local coin. And what have we here?"

He gripped the parchment coiled around the bird's leg. The raven scrambled free and bolted to the open air. The merchant then opened the message and began to dictate.

"A memento to remember the Axios," he read aloud. "And it's signed with a red hand print..."

He turned the paper for Tobias to confirm its contents.

"Does that mean anything to you?"

Lye is giving 100 GP to Tobias for the purchase.

[Tobias Stalt]

Tobias stared for a long moment at the bird as it stared mockingly at him. He watched as the shadowed creature went winging away, then glanced down in solemn silence at the note and the gold piece that had been deposited in the merchant's hand. The Hand had eyes everywhere, and Lye heard whispers Tobias sought to keep from everyone. This backhanded gesture was intimidation: proof he could strike from anywhere, at any time.

It was enough to unnerve the heartiest of men. "Mine," Tobias said finally, "it's meant for me. Put it toward the cost of the weapons. I don't want the bloody coin." He left unsaid anything and everything that raced through his mind. Enough had happened for one day. How he had not lost his composure at the sight of the note was beyond his comprehension.

He straightened. "I asked a question. Are you a smith?"

[Erikar]

Clint wrenched his hungry eyes away from the Raiaeran gold, casting a gruff look at the customer. The man was obviously distressed, and his suspicious demeanor only raised more questions in the old merchant's mind. However, he was not one to scare away good coin; so, he held his tongue.

"Aye, I'm a smith, and a damned good one," He affirmed confidently "But these blades are not my work."

He snatched the pair of Damascus daggers off the counter huffily, turning back to his admittedly vast assortment of weapons. His thick, calloused hands traveled quickly over the instruments of murder, searching unsuccessfully for their target. Then, with another grunt of satisfaction, he turned and produced a wicked-looking duo of knives with a flourish.

"You've a good eye, young ser. Tell me if these (http://static.flickr.com/112/304132553_f85d63f79d_b.jpg) are more to your liking. I crafted 'em from the ground up; I'll vouch for their quality." Clint assured Tobias. "However, they're goin' to cost you a bit more coin.." He trailed off.

[Tobias Stalt]

Tobias nodded thoughtfully as the second pair of daggers was presented. The man before him had more skill than whatever sod had stocked him with the first set, Tobias was certain, but he did not say so. He absently pulled the wrapped weapon from his back and laid it out for the Smith to view. With a few slow, careful movements, Blackheart was exposed, and the aura of malice and woe that radiated off of it loosed. "Tell me," Tobias asked softly. He was oblivious to the feelings that dripped from his weapon, the feelings that came from being dead to magic, because he was the same as the Dehlar that had gone into crafting the weapon. "Will they match this sword in quality? Can you guarantee it?"

He eyed the other man. Tobias had taken an immediate liking to the daggers, but he needed to keep himself on even ground in order to keep some gold in his own pocket. "I need tools to protect me. I've no shortage of enemies."

[Erikar]

Clint whistled in admiration. The black Dehlar sword was truly a work of art; heavy, well-made, and razor-sharp. It radiated an aura of despair, one that was familiar to the smith. He had felt such horrible emotions before. It spoke of spilled blood, and lost love, and a knife in the back. The blade was evil, and it was beautiful.

He paused, mulling over his thoughts before he spoke. "I'll make no such guarantee, lad. That blade is a masterpiece. But I promise you, these daggers were made by my own hands; they will not fail you." Clint swore, the truth of his words showing in his hard-set eyes.

"I've known many like you, most old enough to be your father. You're can't run from destiny." He mused, casting one last discerning look at Tobias. "But I can't claim to know you, and I won't give you some shit-sack advice for you to leave with. These daggers are fine pieces, and they'll serve whatever purpose you put them toward. I'll need 420 sovereigns for them."

[Tobias Stalt]

Tobias began to wrap his weapon in silence, considering the stated price. With a heave of effort, he replaced Blackheart on his back and pulled out his kitbag. He counted out three hundred and twenty gold, tied off the bag, and he placed the currency on the counter. "Done," he confirmed, "I look forward to using them. Thanks for your help."

He took the weapons gently in hand and tested their weight. Balanced, light, and keen. They were a purchase worthwhile, and would serve him as much quicker options than Blackheart for killing. His gaze had darkened at the prospect of murderous efficiency, and Tobias had to wonder if he were any better than the monsters haunting him. A grim, snorted laugh perished that same thought in an instant. He finally regarded the man's advice with a kind and appreciative smirk. "If I can't run from it, I guess I'll have to rewrite the ending, huh?"

It was more upbeat than he generally spoke, but he felt the words were fitting.

[Erikar]

Clint nodded, gathering the gold on the table and placing it in his coin-purse with a satisfied smile.

"Spoken like a true survivor. Now, begone with ya'."

With a curt nod, Tobias was on his way.

Transaction Completed. 320 GP to be deducted from Tobias Stalt, 100 GP to be deducted from Lye.

[Lye]

We have here a 10 poster that was written out and rather decently. Guess what? According to the Bazaar Guide, y'all get a touch of EXP for your theatrics.

Tobias Obtains:

150 EXP
A pair of Damascus Daggers (http://static.flickr.com/112/304132553_f85d63f79d_b.jpg)

Erikar Obtains:

150 EXP

Tobias goes from 367 GP to 47 GP
Lye goes from 1,216 GP to 1,116 GP

Transaction Complete.

Please link this thread where proof of purchase is applicable.