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Post by Banez Gladpath on Jan 19, 2011 18:22:48 GMT -5
Banez walked through the streets of the city, wearing a white flax tunic over a long-sleeved red shirt, fawn brown slacks, and brown boots. His gaze flicked to the corners of the streets, where more guards than usual were patrolling. He had tightened security, but would it be enough? He could only hope so.
His ruined breastplate was still in Travis' cabin, and considering the amount of time Lysand believed that they had, after being given the spy's report, he wouldn't have the time to reclaim it. Speaking of the spy's report, it conflicted with Leon's.... That had been confusing. But he ended up believing the spy over the mysterious stranger. The scouting party might have only just uncovered a fraction of the army. At any rate, it didn't look good on Leon's record. The captain entered the blacksmith's shop, the heat hitting his body and the metallic smell filling his nose.
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Post by Mason McTavish on Jan 19, 2011 18:41:15 GMT -5
Mason lowered himself onto a stool, streching a bit, good and tired from all the work. Weapon repairs, tool replacements, armor fittings, and of course his own personal assignments to keep his crafts in stock.
He had to admit, it had been a bit busier than usual. Nothing to draw concern to the blacksmith, but enough to at least catch his attention.
Footsteps grabbed his attention, glancing up to see the captain of the guard walk into his smithy. Well, now that came as a bit of a surprise, and for a breif moment, it showed on Mason's face. But he wiped it away quickly, replacing it with his usual friendly demenor.
"G'day to you, sir!" He greeted, slowly pushing himself to his feet.
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Post by Banez Gladpath on Jan 19, 2011 20:10:07 GMT -5
Banez managed a smile in the backsmith's presence. "Good day. You aren't too busy, are you?" Judging from the apparent break, maybe not, but the openly visible tools and influx of in progress works told him otherwise. "I lost my breastplate. Unless I borrow one of those horribly unfitted ones in the barracks, I'm in a bit of a situation," he chuckled.
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Post by Mason McTavish on Jan 22, 2011 18:41:36 GMT -5
Listening to the Captain's little plight, the blacksmith absently scratched his beard in thought. A replacement breastplate... Wasn't he already working on one? And he was certain that he had at least a few previously made ones in stock. Not too sure if they would be the right size, but it wouldn't hurt to look.
"Well, I'm sure I got a few already in stock, although I'm not sure they'll be the size you'd prefer. If not, and if yer willin' to wait a bit, I can finish the breastplate I've started, make a few alterations so it'll the right fit."
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Post by Banez Gladpath on Jan 23, 2011 4:56:11 GMT -5
"I'd be willing to try what you have on hand. Time really is of the essence..." The captain wondered about telling the blacksmith what was bound to happen... perhaps he could distribute weapons, so that the people weren't completely defenseless. His eyes then became distant as he weighed the benefits and potential consequences. What if instead the people began to panic?
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Post by Mason McTavish on Jan 23, 2011 19:21:38 GMT -5
Mason nodded, beginning to turn away so he could go and aquire the breastplates. However, the look that came over the Captain's eyes...
The blacksmith headed for the large rack he used to hold completed works awaiting selling. Weapons, horsehoes, armor, and the like. Locating and fishing out of his best breastplates, he carted them over to the Captain, laying them out along a nearby table.
"Take yer' pick.'" Mason was certain that at least one of his creations would suffice for the Captain's specifics. However, he was still curious about what would make a Captain of the Guard look so distant. "Pardon my pryin', but that's the look of a man who's got a heavy problem on his shoulders."
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Post by Banez Gladpath on Jan 25, 2011 19:43:46 GMT -5
The captain remained bouncing thoughts around in his head as Mason went about fetching suitable breastplates from the rack. At the blacksmith's words, Banez' eyes focused again on the world around him. So, he had to make that decision now. Had there been a second-story home atop this shop? Did the blacksmith have a family? "... There's been some trouble outside the city, and I'm afraid that it's going to meet us very soon. If there is a crisis, may I ask that you distribute your weapons to the people?" Untrained or not, people had a change to chop /something/ off if they swung hard enough. Banez placed his hand on a breastplate, but could find it in himself to try it on just yet.
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Post by Mason McTavish on Feb 3, 2011 17:19:08 GMT -5
"A crisis..." Mason quietly muttered the words over and over again, exhaling slowly as he turned to face the captain. "Aye, I can supply a decent amount of weapons. And I'll guess that I'll know when the time comes..."
The blacksmith stopped, massaging his temples. "But sir, you have to tell me... If this crisis comes around..." He turned to face the man. "Are there any other ways to get out of the city? To get my family out."
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Post by Banez Gladpath on Feb 5, 2011 21:23:11 GMT -5
"Thank you. I hope that it won't be needed, but..." At the mention of his family, Banez looked up with sympanthy, then just as quickly glanced down in thought. "...If the enemy knocks down one of the city walls, try to use the main entrance to escape, or any place where they aren't blocking the exit. If you can't escape the city, bring your family to the church." He wished that he had more to tell the blacksmith, but if there was a guaranteed method of escape, he would have notified every citizen. The captain finally picked up the breastplate and gradually tightened up each buckle. So far, so good.
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