PM to join [Sultros Blades] Axes for Taxes (Hadyn)

[Telrin]

80th of fall, 513 a.v Syliras was bustling. People hurried to and fro, rushing to finish work before the sun reached her peak. The city smelled of sweat and dust and too many people packed together, and between the moving crowds there slipped a little boy clad in buckskin. He did his best to avoid the thick of the crowds, keeping to the very corners and sometimes ducking into an alley to wait for a particularly large group to pass, but he couldn’t help the stray bump or jostle. There was a reason he didn’t like big cities. The old man had pointed him this way, hadn’t he? Telrin mentally went over the complex list of lefts and rights, trying to remember at exactly which point he was on that list. He eventually decided that it was a lost cause, and so he scanned the area until his eyes landed on hulking fellow in the process of loading barrels onto a cart. “Excuse me,” Telrin said, approaching. “Could you direct me to Sultros Blades?” The man grunted and paused in his labor, giving the boy an unimpressed look. “And what would the likes of you be doin’ looking for Sultros Blades?” “My father needs a new axe,” Telrin lied. This seemed to satisfy the man, and he pointed farther up the street. “That way,” he said. “Left, two more passages then a right. Ain’t that far.” “Thank you.” Telrin left the man to his work and continued towards where he had pointed. The passage came to a T, and he took the left branch, counted two more tunnel-streets and then turned onto the next right one. The sound of metal on metal did the rest. There was no sign on the door, but it was impossible to mistake the striking of a hammer within. Telrin carefully stepped into the room, looking around for whoever was attending it. “Hello?” he called out. “Is this Sultros Blades?”

[Hadyn Skellig]

The weaponsmith released a long sigh, cocking her head to the side as she stared at the parchment before her. After spending a bell and a half catching up on the shop's paperwork her fingers were aching. Sitting up straight she arched her already overly convex spine, the vertebrae cracking in response. Running a hand along the curving swell of her pregnant belly the woman paused in her work to listen to the sounds of the hammer striking iron in the adjacent forge. Yorick had been working almost as long as she had that day, picking up the slack necessary to account for her absence in the smithy. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to manage an entire day's work, even if it consisted of mindless tasks.

The sound of the door opening alerted her before the voice reached her, brown eyes raising to find a boy in the entrance of the shop. He seemed mildly unsure of where he stood and the question confirmed it. He was young with bright eyes, though there was a somewhat feral manner about him. It was uncommon for youth to find their way into the shop without a chaperone present and even less for them to purchase anything. Regardless the brunette smiled warmly from where she sat behind the counter, bidding him further into the shop with a cant of her head.

"Morning," she greeted him as she set the quill down, the dark braid falling over one shoulder. "It is. How can I help you?"

[Telrin]

“Morning.” Telrin scanned for the source of the voice, and his eyes fell upon a woman sitting at a desk. She was fair, though if this was where she worked then it would not be particularly surprising. She had generous tresses of auburn hair, and her eyes twinkled with a cheerful sort of determination, one that Telrin liked immediately. “Hello,” Telrin said, stepping across the threshold. He made his way to the desk, eyes cast downward until he was standing before it. He glanced into the woman’s eyes, then quickly down again, and then after a moment returned them to hers and held there. “I am Telrin,” the boy said. “And I need an axe.” He reached for the coinpurse at his belt and held it aloft, not exactly offering it to the woman but allowing the sound of coin against coin escape into the air between them.

[Hadyn Skellig]

Hadyn regarded him placidly as he approached his demeanor suggesting a polite humility. She nodded her head once at the announcement of his name and couldn't help but hitch a brow once the boy stated his purpose. The bag of coins received a cursory glance though she didn't appear particularly interested in the money. Pressing her lips together the brunette reached for a clean parchment before dipping the quill into the ink, brown eyes catching his again as she spoke.

"An axe," she repeated, pulling the quill out and writing the boy's name on the parchment as phonetically as possible. "Shouldn't be much trouble. Just a few questions for you. What kind of axe are y'interested in? we've several types dependin' on the function. Handaxes, battle axes, double-bladed, stone cuttin' axes, carvin', hatchet, splittin'..." the woman fell silent, waiting for his response.

Telrin's apparent youth didn't concern the woman. She'd had children in the shop before, though not all of them were human, inquiring after weapons of the most brutal nature. So a boy like him to wanting an axe was entirely believable and she treated him as an adult customer. What he wanted the weapon for remained to be seen, its purpose to be discovered when Telrin told her the type he desired.

"You're in luck," she added with a smile. "Our axe maker's in the back as we speak. He'll have you a fine blade, no doubt about it."

[Telrin]

The woman gave an offhanded glance to his money, then pursed her lips. What came next, to Telrin’s surprise, was not a request for an adult, or an inquiry as to why he was alone, and the boy blinked. She instead asked for elaboration, as she would have an adult, and this left him disarmed enough that he had to take a moment to think about what it was she was asking. “Uh… a hatchet, I think.” He shook himself once, casting the surprise out of his voice and continuing with a much stronger timbre. “A hatchet that will last. It must be able to cut through bone as well as wood.” Gods knew how difficult it was to behead an animal with a hunting knife. His eyes unfocused for a moment in contemplation. “Perhaps it would also be good to buy a sharpening-stone as well. Do you sell those here?”

[Hadyn Skellig]

The brunette wrote as the boy spoke, nodding with understanding. A hatchet. If she were to guess she'd assume he was looking to add to his survival gear. Brown eyes flicked up to his face when he elaborated on the blade's ability before nodding and setting the quill down.

"That'll be no trouble at all," Hadyn answered, sitting up a little straighter to catch him in her gaze once more. "It'll run you six silver for the blade in iron. Twelve for cold steel, which'll last you a long while."

The brunette paused, waiting for the boy to consider the price. As silence fell they were joined by the lumbering smith, Yorick, who'd taken a recess from working in the forge. He leaned against the doorway separating the two room, face blanketed in a sheen of sweat, his large frame taking up the entire space of the entrance.

"Yorick," Hadyn nodded, indicating to Telrin with the quill pen. "Lad's lookin' for a hatchet. Said you'd be the man for it."

"Oh aye?" the redheaded smith turned his gaze to the boy, a smile quirking his thin lips skyward as he regarded him. "Iron or col' steel? is it for you, mate?"

[Telrin]

The woman nodded, scratching down notes as Telrin spoke. When she looked back up, there was no condescension in her eyes, only a comfortable professionalism, and though it didn’t disarm Telrin a second time it did fill him with a strange sort of relief. This woman, she looked at him as a customer who was her equal, not a customer who was a child. She explained the options to him, and it hardly took a moment for the boy to decide. “Cold steel.” He looked in his pouch, but discovered that he had no silver mizas for an exact amount. Without any alternatives, he pulled out two gold ones and placed them on the desk just as a man with shoulders as wide across as a galley wandered out of the smithy in the back. The sheer size difference between him and Telrin caused the child to lean back a bit, as if he feared the man might devour him whole. “Cold steel,” he said softly. For a moment, he considered lying, saying that the hatchet was for his father as he so often did for other goods he bought. But the woman, she had treated him no different than any other patron; perhaps the smith would do the same? “... yes,” he finally admitted. “It is for me.”

[Hadyn Skellig]

The muscular redhead stared at the young boy, his barrel chest rising with each breath as he considered the answer he was given. Working directly with customers was not Yorick's strong point but he endeavored to be a bit more likeable. With a glance to Hadyn, whose expression bore no hint of consternation the blue eyed smith finally smiled.

"Alright," he agreed with a single nod as Hadyn smiled. "I'll give it a handle for you to grow into, eh?"

Hadyn looked between Telrin and Yorick, pleased with the man's response. She finished writing the order as the redhead joined them fully in the shop and coming around the counter with her, reaching for the pitcher of water behind the woman. His hand covered nearly the entire handle as he filled himself a glass, casting a look over his shoulder at the boy as Hadyn spoke again.

"Any embellishments or designs for the hatchet?"

"Y'from 'round here, boy?" Yorick followed Hadyn's question with his own, turning with his glass of water to stand beside the woman. His expression was amiable as he took a drink.

[Telrin]

The man paused, as if unsure what to say next, and after a quick glance to the woman he broke into a smile. Telrin looked down at the observation that seemed to bear the trappings of a jest, and though it was obviously in reference to his age it was not exactly made at his expense. Telrin decided he didn’t mind it, though he said nothing in response. Embellishments? “No,” he said. “Unless you feel the need to add them. I do not need them.” Meanwhile, the bear-man had made his way behind the desk, almost hiding the water pitcher there completely with the vastness of his hand. He took a drink, then, and came to stand side-by-side with the one taking notes in the book. "Y'from 'round here, boy?" he asked, taking another pull from his cup. Telrin shook his head. “No. I am not.” He paused, then looked between the man and the woman. “What about you?” They seemed native, or at least comfortable enough in their surroundings to have been here for a significant amount of time, but Telrin was not skilled in the ways of reading another’s demeanor, and so there was no way for him to know.

[Hadyn Skellig]

Yorick and Hadyn exchanged glances as the boy put the question back to him. Neither were particularly shocked the lad was a visitor. With a toothy grin the redheaded smith drained the glass before setting it down near the woman's paper.

"Aye," he replied with quick dip of his head. "Us both."

After a moment of studying Telrin the large fellow walked to the other side of the counter, passing the boy with a wink as he approached the door to the forge.

"You can pick it up in a few days time. Haddie'll settle you up." With that Yorick returned to the smithy, the door creaking on its hinges. Readjusting her legs said woman offered Telrin another kind smile.

"Twelve silver, then."