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Post by Mason McTavish on Nov 8, 2010 18:55:00 GMT -5
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The hammer struck the metal again and again with masterful precision, molding the iron on the anvil. Heat, hammer, cool, repeat.
The day was a fairly slow day, only a few orders placed, and his current project was nearing completion.
His daughter was nearby, watching the sparks with childish fascination. He was surprised that she'd rather be in here with him than outside or with her friends. Still, he appreciated the company.
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Post by Scipio Varick on Nov 8, 2010 19:22:05 GMT -5
"The hell you looking at?" Scipio snapped at the merchant, throwing the gold coins at the portly man and snatching a large garlic knot from the stand. Taking a huge bite out of the bread Scipio turned and stormed away, glaring threateningly at any that glanced his way and leaving the vendor looking rather alarmed.
He knew exactly what he- and those that stared questioningly at him on the street- had been gazing at. A few nights' previous, which had begun so promisingly, had ended with Scipio receiving a serious ass-beating from a monstrous creature that had crashed through his room wall. Bewildered and cock-blocked, the night became a fight for his life, along with the Weremaiden he was attempting to seduce and another man who had come soaring through the wall. All three had escaped with their lives, but Scipio had a large purpleish-blue swelling that spread from his temple down to his chin to remember the evening by. Even in the shade of his hood, which he kept carefully tipped up, it was visible.
A steady clang made Scipio wince and grit his teeth as he stepped off the street and into the Blacksmith's forge; forcing a smile at the young girl that stood nearby, watching, Scipio clasped his hands in front of him and waited for the man to finish.
(That was trash...I'm sorry. Absolutely no muse tonight.)
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Post by Mason McTavish on Nov 8, 2010 20:33:10 GMT -5
The child shyly wriggled in her seat, uneasy around the stranger. Mason, however, was unaware of the man until he finished the blade, dunking it into the water bin one last time before setting it onto a rack.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, the large man turned to say something to his daughter when he noticed the newcomer. Forcing himself to ignore the bruise, he instead calmly looked the man in the eyes, like he did with each customer.
" 'Ello there. What can I do for ye'?" He asked politely, glancing at his daughter to make sure she wasn't staring or anything. She had a tendency to stare whenever something caught her eye, and he was pretty sure that a big bruise on the man's face would do it. She, however, was not.
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Post by Scipio Varick on Nov 12, 2010 23:20:52 GMT -5
"Afternoon," Scipio said in careless pleasantry; from the shelter of his cloak he produced a scabbard, meaning to get right to the point. "I...well...I broke my sword."
He laid the sheath down on the table and, with the gentle scrape of steel on steel drew out the weapon. It was perfectly intact until about halfway up the blade, where a deep crack traced to the tip, which had been snapped clean off. Glowering at it, Scipio held the fractured weapon out to the blacksmith.
"I don't know how much you can do about it," he grunted bitterly, "and normally I wouldn't care...but it's somewhat of an Heirloom. I can pay whatever you require." He didn't care about how much gold he would have to dish out, but it had been his father's sword, with which his brother had fought his final battle. Letting it break had struck Scipio oddly, as if he had disappointed the blade's previous masters.
He nodded back at the scabbard. "I have the shards for the tip in there." He caught sight of the little girl again, who had diverted her gaze. "Beautiful daughter," he made an assumption, "what's her name?"
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Post by Mason McTavish on Nov 16, 2010 17:46:41 GMT -5
Mason nodded rather absentmindedly, his mind mostly focused on what he could do with the sword, how he could restore it to it's former glory. Mention of his daughter, however, grabbed his attention away.
"Aye, she's my daughter. Dahlia's her name." He rested his hand on the young girl's head, a soft smile on his face. "We're just lucky she got her mother's looks and not mine, eh?" Chuckling, he carefully took the scabbared and sword, examining it carefully. Moving over to a table, he emptied the shards onto the table, laying the sword next to them.
After several moments, he turned back to the man, nodding. "I can fix this, easy job. Hell, can probably get this done within a few hours. 1 gold peice and 30 pieces of silver for this."
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Post by Scipio Varick on Nov 22, 2010 19:18:57 GMT -5
(No idea where to go with this XD)
Smiling weakly at the blacksmith's joke, Scipio reached for his coin purse, wincing as his shoulder gave a particularly painful twinge. Emptying its contents out onto a nearby table, the former soldier carefully picked out the appropriate amount.
To his displeasure, there was an astonishingly small amount of coins that were replaced in the pouch. You need a job, nagged a small voice in the back of his mind; ignoring it, as usual, he scooped up the 31 coins.
"I trust you'll do a fine job," he said in what was meant to be a light tone.
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