Of Leather And Spikes

[Quentin Boone]

The street outside was busy and as Quentin opened the door into the shop, the bustle erupted into a cacophony of indistinct conversations and the hawking of street vendors. As the door closed behind the bearded brawler, the shop returned to an almost-serene quiet that was accented by the muffled clanging of hammer on anvil somewhere in the back. Quentin took a few minutes perusing the wares on display: Ornate helms of various metals, steel swords sheathed and unsheathed, daggers with intricate designed. He chuckled at a split-blade dagger; it wouldn't do well in stabbing someone in the ribs.

Shaking his head, the tall man stepped up to the counter. He stood a good foot or more above the aged shopworker, whose straggly grey beard made him look even older. Quentin noticed that his arms were thick, and supposed the man was either the owner, or an old blacksmith.

"Right, I got these leather straps, an' I wrap 'em round me hands for fightin'." Quentin took the two straps from their place tucked into the waist of his brown trousers and put them on the varnished wooden counter.

"What I want is for ya t'put four spikes in the middle of 'em. One for each knuckle." He scratched his head, considering the material he wanted for the spikes. It was a necessary purchase; chances were Adal was going to push more and more fights against armed opponents, and Quentin would need something to balance the odds. But the fat innkeeper was getting more and more hungry - for gold and flesh.

"Well, damn it. Gi' me steel, if the price is right?" He waited for the shopkeeper to respond, dreading the price he'd quote, but also knew it was a worthwhile purchase - armed fights always gave more money.

Quentin started to drum his fingers on the counter, more out of nervousness over the price than boredom.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

The man looked over his customer, summing him up rather quickly as a bruiser.

But, Neal had never judged people. So what if he was a bruiser? He was a paying bruiser. Looking up at the towering man, the aging smith scratched idly at his beard and considered the prices for the request.

"Nice to see someone who knows what they want, for once," he remarked casually, picking up the straps and examining them. The work was simple, and would take no time at all, really. They would be vicious, no doubt about it, but when one was in the business of crafting weapons, one learned it was best not to dwell on what his work might be used for. It made no difference to Neal at the end of the day.

"One-hundred and fifty for steel spikes," he glanced up from under thick brows at Quentin, "and that's as good a price as you'll get at any of the other smiths, lad. I can have this done for you within the hour, if you like."

The scratching fingers stopped or a moment as a thought struck the smith.

"You use them for fighting, you say? Well, your run of the mill leather won't do much good against a decent blade, spikes or no spikes. If you like," he started slowly, trying to gauge the customer's reaction, "for an extra two-hundred, I happen to have some hide taken from a Berevaran bear. Tough stuff, artic hide. Can last longer against a blade than your average animal hide. But, that's just a suggestion."

Neal shrugged neutrally.

"Course, it's your coin, friend."

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

Dirks, just to clarify, we used the FST channel in chat to complete this transaction. As you've said before, the channel is for RPing, so we figured Bazaar transactions were also acceptable. Here's the chat log:

(17:16:00) Quentin_Boone: A slight smile emerged on Quentin's face as he listened to the old smith. The price was much better than he had feared and with his relief, fingers stopped drumming. Instead, the rough-skinned hand moved to the brawler's beard. He stroked his facial hair as he considered the offer of Berevaran hide straps. "What sort of resistance does the hide give?"

(17:20:37) Aurelianus_Drak'shal: Neal kept his grin hidden by the fingers scratching at his soot-stained beard, glad to have found a customer willing to take his advice for once. Too often the fools thought they knew everything about everything, and scoffed at the humble craftsman's suggestions. "Well, don't know what they do to the animals up there, but any Artic hide is a damn sight tougher than what we have down here." He raised a hand, signalling he would return in a moment and disappeared through to the back room. He returned a minute later, with two sheets of leather in his fist. Neal laid them down on the counter and drew a dagger from his belt. "This one," he said, pointing to the left sheet, "is basic leather." He stabbed the blade into it, leaving a hole in the material. Another swipe, and he parted the edge of the leather with the blade. "This," he indicated the other one, "is Artic hide." The bearded craftsman stabbed the blade down into the hide, satisfied when it left little more than a mark in the leather. "You can see the difference yourself, friend."

(17:24:54) Quentin_Boone: Quentin nodded his approval at the impressive display of the hide's protection. He wasn't convinced by the price, however; two hundred gold would be an extra room for at least a month at The Empty Hand. He picked the hide up from the counter and gave it a look over. It felt tough in his hands, and the dagger's mark was only light. "Is two hundred the best price ya can do?"

(17:27:41) Aurelianus_Drak'shal: Neal habitually clawed at the dry skin under his scraggly beard, humming and hawing as he considered it. Business wasn't so good he could turn away business, but at the same time, he couldn't go just giving discounts to everyone who walked through the door. Finally, an idea struck him, and the swarthy man smiled amicably. "Tell you what, friend; you tell your friends about me, and promise me some return business, and I can knock ten gold off the price. Sound fair?"

(17:47:57) Quentin_Boone: Quentin grinned. "I'll tell ya wha' I can do fer ya. I'll have words wi' me Ringmaster, a nasty old bastard called Adal. Reckon he'll get all 'is fighters to come to ya. Tha's worth more of a discount than ten gold, right?"

(17:49:49) Aurelianus_Drak'shal: The grin widened visibly, displaying teeth stained with years of chewing tobacco. "Aye, that it is. I can do you twenty gold off the price of the Artic hide, and fifteen gold off the price of the spikes. And that is the best I can do without bankrupting myself, friend. What do you say?"

(17:54:26) Quentin_Boone: Quentin took a moment to think, continuing to stroke his beard as the old man grinned. "Well, I don't really 'ave a lorra money meself." He picked up one of his leather straps and wrapped it round his fist. It covered his fingers three times. "I reckon I'd only need a third a'hide than I got leather. Just put a couple'a stitches in to make sure I don't hafta hold it." He paused again, took off the leather strap and placed it back on the counter. "And there's enough leather 'ere for ya to hilt at least three daggers. What's that worth? Considerin' there's next to no hide needed."

(17:57:24) Aurelianus_Drak'shal: Neal spread his hands wide, shrugging helplessly from behind the counter. "Sorry friend, but that really is the best I can offer you. But, to sweeten the deal, you keep coming back to ol' Neal, I can keep giving you a nice little discount for the goods you get." The man leaned casually on the counter, toying with the dagger there as he waited for the customer's answer.

(18:00:34) Quentin_Boone: Quentin nodded. "Ya got a deal. Tell me ya name, and I'll keep comin' back an' make sure Adal gets 'is other fighters to come to ya. Don' worry though, I'll keep the discount between us." Having a friend like this old man could be useful, cheap gear was hard to get hold of. With the hide, he had no need of the leather, "And you keep those straps anyway, I won't need 'em wi' that hide."

(18:03:47) Aurelianus_Drak'shal: "I'm Neal, friend. Pleased to make your acquaintance," the man smiled, popping a wad of chewing tobacco into his mouth and tamping it into his cheek. "Gimme a few minutes, and I'll have your items ready for you," he said, gathering up the materials from the counter and vanishing into the backroom again. It was fifteen minutes all told before he appeared again, and handed the spiked straps back to their rightful owner. "That'll be three-hundred and fifteen sovereigns, if you please."

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

Transaction Completed.

315 GP to be deducted from Quentin Boone's account.

[Lye]

Gold Deducted!

Quen went from 445 GP to 130 GP.