In 'Diablo', the blacksmith will buy items from you. I wondered what it must be like to be a blacksmith in such a town where you had adventurers clomping about at all hours and bringing in the junk they found along the way to their death, or fame.. or Both.
Waldon grunted, shaking his head. Yes he hated the name, but it and the skills of a blacksmith were all his father left him. So he kept it. His grunt was aimed at the figure on the other side of the table from him - half his stature but equal in bulk.. and the ability to out-drink most anyone in town.
"More adventurers.. Or whatever the fashionable name is nowadays."
Another grunt and half the dark brew vanished in a gulp. "If I wasn't the Only blacksmith in this providence - not that is all that big to begin with, mind - I would pack it in and Leave.. They stumble into my shop holding things that have been molding for who knows how long and expect me to pay Gold for the crap! Then they get all huffy when I offer them what it is Really worth. Most times there is little to salvage, except when something magical comes out of the holes.. Then I have to hire a Wizard to make sure it's not something evil."
The dwarf nodded, hearing it all before, but Waldon paid for the drinks and he would listen to whatever the human wanted to say.. Barely human anyway. A long, thick black mustache clung onto a lip that was probably more leathery than the skin the smith wore. It was also the only hair on the man from the collar up. Urth didn't know if there was any below the collar, but he didn't think that way.. At least not often and Never in public. But he had to admit, the human was Built! He must have some ogre or dragon blood in him someplace.
"Pretty soon they will be poking about in the mines, go banging around the crypts and catacombs, scaring descent folk like ghouls from their work. Probably get a bunch of the undead riled up.. Remember how long it took us to get them calmed down enough so we could get a descent sleep? I mean - when the werewolves start complaining about the idiots trampling through the woods, scaring everything off, swinging swords at them.. Ah well. Maybe some Black Death will come and nip them in their stuck-up arses - One can Hope."
Laying a silver on the table he left, and the dwarf eyed the muscular buttocks - as did many others in the Tavern. He had a big, sexy, Man-ass that Begged to have the sweat licked off it. Not that Anyone would say so out loud of course... * * * *
"10 gold for this fine piece of equipment? You are Joking. Either that or a fool."
Waldon held back a growl, wishing he could toast those hands over a hot fire for a while.. see what he thought about being 'calloused' then. "That is all it's worth and that is all I will pay."
The buffoon snorted and jerked the bow up, not noticing an ivory tip fall from the rotting wood. "I will show you This Bow is worth More than.." He grabbed the 'string' - which promptly parted, being held together by dust more than anything. "Alright then. It may be used goods but look at the wood - the Embossment.." He slammed the edge of the counter... And the bow didn't splinter so much as explode. "And if I was in the market for old bow dust, I would appreciate it more.. 10 gold for it and whatever else you have in that bag you dragged in here. And don't give me a speil about Great Weapons and Horrible Dangers - if the weaponry was so Great, you wouldn't be selling it to me. And I don't buy Artifacts.. Too hard to work. Sell them to the Lady 2 streets down." The cat-like male grumbled, then stuck out his paw. "Make it 20 and you have a deal."
Waldon wanted nothing more than to take one of his hammers and Pound this nit into the ground by the top of his pointed head.. But he sighed and got 20 gold pieces out, receiving an avalanche of half-broken swords, head and body armor ranging from rags to rusted, dented metal, and various pieces of 'stuff'. Then sack and owner vanished before the smith could change his mind. It was times like these he was Glad he was a Smith.. Yes, a wizard, or witch, or tanner made more than he did, but all he had to worry about was Metal, not something that might creep off while you were working on it!
He shuddered at the very thought, Grabbing the pile and tossing it into a heap that was growing larger by the idiot.
Credit: way-of-witch.blogspot.com
