[7] [8] [9] [13]
Overworld: Town Gate - South
The pirate took a moment to check the remains of the creatures for anything useful, but only found a single scratched, but luckily intact vial from the lower torso of the puppet monster. "Aye sir." Propman took the moment to reload his gun before holstering it yet again, wondering if it would have been a better idea to try and conserve ammo as he frowned at his dwindling supplies.
Town
The streets were thinner than when he first entered, but by no means empty as loose groups of people moved along the cobble-paved roads of the frontal district. The streets were illuminated by a combination of windows and lanterns, while the air smelled of smoke and dust, no doubt from fire-pits being started in order for heating, as it was noticeably cold outside. Propman hoped that a shop, or at very least an inn was open somewhere, as the effects of a day-long travel were starting to wear down on him, as was carrying around his bag.
He headed to the market district first, to see if he could find any stores worth going into for equipment and haggling. [13] A blacksmith appeared to be open for the moment, and Propman decided to come inside.
Entering through the portal, the familiar scent of coal and metal filled his nostrils as he found himself welcome into a room of wood and stone, with a wide array of weapons hung upon racks taking up the predominant amount of room, followed by a few pieces of metal armour to the side. A large, hairy man wearing an apron was lazily keeping his head up over the counter with his elbow, clearly tired from the long shift. He grumbled in a Nordic accent of some kind as he lifted his head to look at the customer. "Welcome to...Welcome to...Ah great, a new face, just when I was getting ready to close down."
Propman stood confused. "Eh? As you can see, I'm in need of a good weapon, if that's what you're willing to sell, my good sir."
The blacksmith sat up, and began coughing before reaching for a small pair of spectacles to place upon his nose. "Yes, of course you are. Every one of you newbies always come in asking for my finest works, and at best try to offer a couple of potions that you spent "half a day" rummaging the wilds for, while at worst try to trade in your terrible wall-hanger katanas for one of my masterwork longswords!. Do you know how much work it goes into making a real, useful sword that won't snap in two if swing it wrong? Do you know that I spend weeks gathering the materials in order to craft these things, and have to sometimes sell these blades at a loss half the time because of the amount of work I put into them?"
The adventurer felt awkward taking part in this conversation. "Errr, no sir, no I don't. But I can tell you that before I came here, I've worked on repairing aircraft before, and I can tell you that metalworking is a trade to be respected, knowing a thing or two about it myself. And while I don't have enough potions to probably buy anything of masterwork quality, I do have some items you might be interested in, and I would be happy if you just gave me something I could use to keep the monsters at bay."
Shifting his eyes, he sighed. "Sorry to snap at you lad, but some drunkard which I assume was a newcomer attempted to argue with me about the patterns of weapon I chose to make. I told the punk that his curved sword was unsuitable for fighting with, and he suggested that I use my skills to make a better weapon! Hah, there is no blade greater then a straight-edged longsword made of steel! And don't you dare say titanium: that metal dulls too easily, and is only suitable for armor, if you ever get your hands on enough to work with. Anyways, what do you desire?"
Though Propman could think of many types of curved blades which were not only useful but practical for their roles, he did not feel like arguing with who seemed to be a blacksmith rather prideful of his work. Looking around to the left and right of him, Propman carefully browsed the array of weapons, picking out shortswords, broadswords, and blades of varying thickness and size. He eventually settled on a smallsword tied within a simple leather scabbard. Pulling the weapon off of its stand, he presented it to the desk of the store and gave a closer examination of it. It was mostly functional in design; the hilt was a simple, unadorned steel cup, while the handle was of simple leather, the pommel of steel. It was by no means a flashy weapon, but it looked light and functional. "How much would you say this goes for?"
[4]
"45 vials. Originally tried to sell it for 60, but nobody has bought that thing for a while, which is a shame. It's a perfectly good blade, and I have no doubt it would punch through an armored hide with ease."
Propman began to sweat as he began to softly retort, trying his best not to sound haughty or offensive.
"Er, well, this might prove to be a bit of an issue sir, but before you dismiss me, I ask that you hear me out: I only have eight potions on me, but what I do have is an item that you could really use in your trade. Yes, something that is important to anyone who wants to work with metal!"
The blacksmith immediately furrowed his brow and gave the mariner a death glare, his face but an inch away from the adventurer's. [13] "I'm listening, rogue, but know that you're on a really, really thin leash attempting to haggle with me after the things I told you, especially with only eight vials to your name. Show me."
Reaching into his pouch, Propman pulled out Esbach, and placed it onto the counter. "This book here is the engineer's bible, and it'll tell you things from basic logic circuitry to the properties of most known metals, cira 1971. It's one of those books that contain an immense amount of knowledge if you know how to look through it, and a person like you could use it not only to improve your metal working, but also to possibly increase the technology base of this entire area!"
[13] The blacksmith was not impressed, however. "Look lad, though I can tell you're desperate for a weapon, I can tell you that the gun on your side is probably a better defense then anything you'll find in my shop. Save your potions, go into the inn, and get a good night's rest. If you feel like buying a sword once you've been here for longer then a day, then we'll talk about weapons. But for now, unless you're looking to buy a dagger from here, there's nothing you'll get from here."
Though dejected at his response, Propman would not give in. "Sir, I wish I had days to spend, but I fear that I need a weapon that won't run out of ammunition because you had to unload half your inventory on a bunch of monsters ambushing you from the town gate. There is a group of injured people counting on me to be able to defend them, and I need to be able to do so at a moment's notice, including during times when my weapon jams. They're all looking to get out of this place, and we need all the help we can get if such a thing is going to be a reality. I can tell you that the chances of someone giving you a book like this again are so insignificant as to be almost never, and I'll throw in all my potions and sleep outside if it means getting that sword."
[20] ((Oh dear.))
The blacksmith took the book. "Keep your potions, lad. This sword is most likely going to collect dust anyway, and perhaps you'll be able to put it to better use under your hands, while I'll be able to make better use of this book. First however, tell me; Do you know anything about wielding a blade?"
Propman's heart started to race. He actually convinced him. "I- I, thank you, thank you very much sir! But, I guess I'll have to admit that I am not that skilled. I was planning to take fencing classes at one point, but that was before I was sent into this realm. I'll say that my class does give me an ability that allows me to act like I know how to use one."
The blacksmith shook his head and frowned. "That won't do. Lad, first thing tomorrow, I want you to come back to the shop in the morning, and follow me. I know a person who'll train you well, or at least enough that you won't kill yourself trying to wield it. This lesson shall be on my head."
The adventurer could help but bow at the smith's sudden show of concern. "I...I'll make sure to do so sir! I...I can't thank you enough about how big of a favour you're doing for me, but I won't let you down!"
"It's your friends that you'll have to worry about letting down, lad. Now go and get some rest. You'll need it for tomorrow's lesson." The blacksmith stared at Propman as he nodded and took the sword, spending a few minutes fastening it to his belt. He's young and foolish, but perhaps he might be one of the first in a long time to make it out of this damn prison. One less mouth to feed, several if what he says about his friends hold any truth.
Propman took the blade out of its sheath and inspected it. The sword was small, not much taller then a short-sword, but it was thin and agile like a rapier. It shined, having been well polished, and the pirate saw his face on it. The smith's sudden change in demeanor seemed...strange, but he wasn't the one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially if he was going to give him a sword and a few lessons for what was junk under his possession.