The interior of the smithy is dim, lit primarily by the roaring orange glow of a large forge dominating the back wall. The air is thick with the metallic tang of hot steel, coal smoke, and quenching steam. Sparks fly as a figure – presumably Silas – brings a hammer down rhythmically onto a glowing piece of metal held fast on an anvil.
He's exactly as the innkeeper described: old, wiry, with a bald head fringed by wisps of grey hair, and arms surprisingly corded with muscle for his age. He wears a heavy leather apron dark with soot and sweat. He doesn't stop hammering or even look up as you enter, letting the ringing clang fill the small space. Tools hang neatly on racks along the walls, billets of steel lean in corners, and finished pieces – axe heads, spear points, tool parts – are stacked tidily on benches. It’s the workspace of a meticulous, focused craftsman.
You wait patiently near the door, allowing him to finish his current sequence, respecting the rhythm of his work as the innkeeper's warning about his temper echoes in your mind. After several more ringing blows, he plunges the glowing metal into a quenching tub with a violent hiss of steam, then finally turns, wiping sweat from his brow with a grimy forearm.
His eyes, pale blue and startlingly sharp, fix on you, taking in your traveler's clothes and the militia sword at your belt with a single, swift, critical glance. "Well?" he grunts, his voice raspy from heat and age. "Spit it out. I ain't got all day for gawkers."
"Good day, Master Silas," you reply, keeping your tone respectful but direct, matching his no-nonsense energy. "The innkeeper at the Tipsy Troll recommended your skill. I'm looking for a blade of quality. Could you show me the best you currently have available in daggers or short swords?"
Silas snorts, turning back to examine the piece he just quenched. "Best is what I'm working on now, and it ain't for sale to walk-ins." He gestures dismissively towards a small, sturdy wooden rack near the front of the shop, beside the door. "Got a few finished pieces there. Standard patterns. Take a look yerself. If somethin' catches yer eye and ya got the coin, we'll talk. If not, door's right behind ya." He turns back to his forge, clearly not interested in playing salesman.
You move over to the rack he indicated. Despite his gruffness, the weapons displayed immediately show a higher level of craftsmanship than your current sword. The steel gleams with a deeper polish, the lines are cleaner, the balance feels better even just resting in the rack.
He has three pieces currently displayed that fit your request:
- A Long Dagger / Main Gauche: About 18 inches overall, with a thick, tapering blade designed for stabbing, and a sturdy crossguard with a side ring for hand protection. The hilt is wrapped in dark, oiled leather. It feels balanced, quick, deadly serious. Oracle Scan: << Item: Steel Main Gauche. Quality: Fine (+). Material: High-carbon steel, well-tempered. No enchantments detected. Estimated Value: 8-10 Silver Coins. >>
- A Classic Short Sword: Similar in length to your current militia sword (approx. 24-inch blade), but clearly superior. Double-edged, leaf-shaped blade common for cutting and thrusting. Simple but elegant cruciform hilt, polished dark wood grip. Feels solid, reliable, perfectly balanced. Oracle Scan: << Item: Steel Short Sword. Quality: Fine (++). Material: Excellent quality steel, expert tempering. Minor hardening rune faintly visible on tang (requires disassembly to confirm fully - likely enhances edge retention). No active enchantments. Estimated Value: 25-30 Silver Coins. >>
- A Curved Blade / Heavy Knife: Almost like a miniature scimitar or falchion, with a single, wickedly curved edge and a weighted tip designed for powerful chopping or slashing cuts. The blade is thicker than the short sword's, polished to a mirror shine. Hilt is black horn, slightly curved for grip. Looks brutal and effective. Oracle Scan: << Item: Horn-Hilted Curve Blade. Quality: Fine (+). Material: Folded steel (visible pattern), excellent edge geometry. No enchantments detected. Estimated Value: 18-22 Silver Coins. >>
All three are significant upgrades. The main gauche is appealing for its speed and potential use alongside another weapon later, but feels less versatile as a primary blade. The curved blade looks powerful but perhaps less suited for thrusting or defense. The classic Short Sword seems the most balanced and highest quality of the three available, a direct and substantial improvement over your current weapon, with the added bonus of a potential minor enchantment for durability. Its estimated price (25-30 Silver) is steep, but well within the funds looted from Elara.
You make your decision. Why choose one upgrade when you can have redundancy and options? With Elara's coin, affording all three isn't an issue, and it avoids potential regret later. Plus, the surprise of buying everything might just impress, or at least confuse, the grumpy smith.
You carefully lift the Fine++ Short Sword from the rack, testing its superb balance. Then you take the Main Gauche, feeling its quickness, and finally the heavy Curve Blade. Holding all three, you turn back towards Silas, who has paused his work again, watching you from the corner of his eye with a mixture of impatience and curiosity.
"These three," you state simply, indicating the weapons in your hands. "I'll take them all."
Silas's eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, his grumpy facade momentarily cracking with genuine surprise. He puts down his tongs and walks over, peering at the weapons, then back at you, as if assessing if you're serious or just touched in the head. (All three? What in the blazes...? Rich fool showing off? Or knows quality when he sees it? Coin's coin, I suppose...)
"All three?" he repeats, scratching his jaw. "That's... unexpected." He eyes the blades critically. "Right then. The dagger's nine silver. The curve blade is twenty silver. The short sword..." he taps the blade with a calloused finger, "...this one's got a good soul. Thirty silver." He names prices slightly above the middle of Oracle's estimated range, likely testing you. "Total comes to fifty-nine silver coins. Got that kinda coin on ya, traveler?" His tone is challenging, skeptical.
Without haggling, you reach into your bum bag, careful not to flash the gold. You count out the silver pieces deliberately onto a nearby workbench: five stacks of ten silver coins, plus nine loose ones. The sight of the substantial pile of silver seems to mollify Silas somewhat, confirming you're not wasting his time.
He scoops up the coins, expertly checking their weight and clink, then nods slowly. "Huh. Fair enough. They're yours."
As he gathers the coins, you unbuckle your militia sword belt and draw the wrapped goblin dagger from your pocket. You place both items on the workbench. "These two," you say, indicating the inferior weapons, "I have no more use for them. Dispose of them as you see fit – melt them down, toss them out, whatever you like."
Silas glances at the militia sword, then picks up the rusty goblin dagger, turning it over with a look of disdain. "Goblin trash," he mutters, tossing it onto a scrap pile near the forge. He shrugs at the militia sword. "Eh, might be able to reforge the steel into somethin' useful someday. Fine." He accepts your cast-offs without further comment.
Now, to equip your new arsenal. You decide on a more intimidating, prepared look than just one sword at your belt. "I need a way to carry these," you state, holding up the short sword and the curve blade. "Can you fashion a harness? Something simple, leather straps, so I can wear them crossed on my back?" You also take the new Main Gauche and slide it into your belt on your non-dominant side, opposite where the short sword used to be. It feels secure and accessible.
Silas eyes the two swords, then your back, then rummages through a bin overflowing with leather scraps, buckles, and rivets near his workbench. "Cross-carry harness, eh? Seen mercenaries do that. Bit flashy for my taste, but doable." He pulls out several long strips of thick, dark leather and a handful of metal buckles. "Need it sturdy. Take a few minutes." He gestures for you to stand still.
He works quickly and efficiently, his movements economical despite his age. He measures straps against your back and shoulders, punches holes, sets rivets with a few sharp taps of a smaller hammer. Within ten minutes, he's constructed a surprisingly sturdy, if unadorned, leather harness designed to hold both swords securely in their sheaths, crossed behind your shoulders.
"There," he says, handing it to you. "Slide the sheaths on, adjust the buckles till it sits right. That'll be... eh, call it another three silver for the leather and time."
You count out the additional three silver coins. You carefully slide the sheathed Short Sword and the sheathed Curve Blade onto the harness loops, then shrug the whole apparatus on. It feels heavy but secure, the weight distributed reasonably well. The hilts peek over your shoulders, readily accessible. Combined with the Main Gauche at your belt, you now look significantly more dangerous and well-equipped than when you walked in.
"It'll do," you say, giving a nod of satisfaction. You check your weapons one last time, then turn to leave.
"Mind how you swing those things," Silas grunts as you reach the door, a hint of something almost like professional concern in his voice. "Good steel deserves a skilled hand, not a clumsy fool."
You offer him a final nod and step back out into the afternoon sunlight of the Tanner's Quarter, newly armed and considerably poorer in silver, but feeling much more prepared for whatever lies ahead.
Stepping out from the shadowed confines of Silas's smithy, freshly armed and feeling a surge of confidence from the quality steel now strapped to you, you are somewhat oblivious to the immediate impact your new appearance has. With the hilts of the short sword and curved blade peeking over your shoulders, the main gauche prominent on your belt alongside the skinning knife, you no longer look like a simple traveler. You look like a mercenary, a sellsword, or someone else who expects trouble and knows how to deal with it.
As you walk back towards the more central parts of Bridgetown, leaving the pungent Tanner's Quarter behind, the reactions from passersby are subtly different. Before, you drew glances due to being an unfamiliar face in plain clothes. Now, the glances are wider, more cautious. People instinctively give you a slightly wider berth on the street. Conversations momentarily hush as you pass. No one makes eye contact for long. The guards you pass near a market square watch you much more intently, hands resting near their own sword hilts, though they don't challenge you. Your intimidating arsenal broadcasts 'danger' loud and clear in this world.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Unaware, or perhaps subconsciously enjoying the newfound space people give you, you focus on your next goal: better clothes. The rough-spun tunic and trousers from Oakhaven are functional but ill-fitting and coarse. With gold in your pouch, you can afford something better – clothes that fit properly, perhaps offer a bit more comfort or durability, and maybe even look less like a destitute villager borrowing militia hand-me-downs.
You start looking for signs of a tailor or clothier shop as you wander through the bustling market streets.
'Oracle,' you query mentally, 'Scan for tailors or shops selling finished clothing. Aim for mid-range quality – better than peasant garb, but not noble finery.'
<< Scanning commercial districts... Identifying relevant establishments... Filtering by estimated quality/price range... >>
<< Options Identified:
- 'Martha's Mending' (Near South Gate): Primarily repairs and basic alterations. Limited selection of pre-made commoner clothing. Low price, basic quality.
- 'The Golden Thread' (Merchant's Row): Sells fine fabrics (silk, velvet), caters to wealthy merchants and minor nobility. High price, high quality, likely custom orders only. Too conspicuous.
- 'Fenlow's Fine Stitchery' (Artisan's Way): Known for well-made traveler's clothes, durable materials (good wool, sturdy linen, leather accents). Caters to merchants, guards, adventurers. Moderate price, good quality, likely has ready-made stock. >>
<< Recommendation: 'Fenlow's Fine Stitchery' aligns best with requirements for quality, durability, and appropriate style without attracting excessive attention. >>
Artisan's Way. You adjust your direction, following Oracle's guidance towards another section of town, this one filled with workshops for potters, weavers, woodcarvers, and other craftsmen. You soon find "Fenlow's Fine Stitchery" – a neat, respectable-looking shop with bolts of sturdy-looking cloth visible through a clean glass windowpane (a sign of prosperity in itself).
Pushing the door open (a small bell jingles above), you enter a tidy, well-lit shop smelling faintly of wool and beeswax. Racks along the walls display finished garments: durable tunics in various earthy tones, well-cut woolen trousers, sturdy cloaks lined with linen, leather vests, and accessories like belts and gloves. A round, balding man with spectacles perched on his nose looks up from behind a counter where he's carefully measuring a piece of dark green wool. He looks you over, taking in your formidable armament with a practiced, neutral expression – clearly, he's accustomed to adventurers or guards as clientele.
"Good day," he says politely, his voice mild. "Looking for something specific, or just browsing our selection?"
"Good day," you return the greeting, stepping further into the shop. "I need some practical gear. Dark colours preferred – trousers, a tunic or two, perhaps a sturdy cloak. Something durable for travel." You add, emphasizing urgency, "And I need it fitted properly, ready to wear today, if possible."
Master Fenlow, the tailor, listens patiently, his eyes briefly flicking over your arsenal again – the crossed swords on your back, the dagger at your belt – before returning to your face. His expression remains professionally neutral, betraying little of his internal thoughts. He’s likely seen plenty of armed individuals pass through his shop in a town like Bridgetown.
'Oracle, quick read on Fenlow's surface thoughts,' you request discreetly.
<< Accessing cognitive signals... Target: Fenlow (Tailor)... >>
<< Surface Thoughts: (Sellsword, by the look of him... Or maybe a bounty hunter? Definitely expects trouble, carrying that much steel. Wants dark clothes, fitted today... Rush job. Always a rush job with these types. Durable... means good wool, maybe reinforced seams. Cloak... standard traveler's cut, dark grey or brown wool best. Fitting... he's athletic build, need to measure carefully around that harness... Price... standard rates for ready-made, plus extra for same-day fitting/alterations. Shouldn't be a problem if he can afford those blades... Wonder what trouble he's running from, or running towards? Not my business. Just make the sale.) >>
Fenlow nods slowly after you finish speaking, his mind already calculating fabrics and time. "Dark colors, durable, fitted today," he repeats, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Possible, yes, possible. Depends on what we have ready-made that fits your frame reasonably well to begin with. Major re-tailoring takes time, you understand."
He gestures towards a rack displaying several tunics and trousers in shades of dark grey, forest green, and deep brown. "This is sturdy traveler's wool, wears like iron but breathes well enough. Trousers are reinforced at the knee and seat. Tunics are simple, practical cut." He then points to a selection of cloaks. "Heavy wool cloaks, good for rain or cold nights. Lined with linen. Dark grey or brown available."
He steps out from behind the counter, pulling a measuring tape from his pocket. "Let's get your measure first, then see what fits best off the rack. Might need minor alterations for length or shoulders, especially with that... hardware," he gestures diplomatically towards your back harness. "We can likely manage that this afternoon if my assistant is free."
He quickly and expertly takes your measurements – chest, waist, inseam, arm length – working around your weapons with practiced ease. He hums thoughtfully, compares the numbers to a few garments on the racks, and pulls out a dark grey woolen tunic and a pair of sturdy brown trousers that look close to your size.
"Try these on," he suggests, gesturing to a small curtained-off changing area in the corner. "Let's see how they hang."
You take the clothes into the changing area. The wool is much finer and softer than the rough Oakhaven clothes, and the cut is clearly superior. The tunic fits well across the shoulders, and the trousers are the right length, just needing perhaps a slight adjustment at the waist for a perfect fit with your belt and weapons. You step out.
Fenlow eyes you critically, walking around you once. "Hmm, yes. Better than expected. Waist on the trousers needs taking in just a touch. Tunic length is good. Shoulders sit well even with the harness." He seems satisfied. "And a cloak?" He picks up a heavy, dark grey wool cloak. "Standard length, should serve you well."
He drapes the cloak over your shoulders temporarily. It feels heavy, warm, and offers excellent concealment for both yourself and your weapons if needed.
"Alright," he says, stepping back. "For the tunic, trousers, and cloak, ready-made... plus the minor alterations to the trousers, fitted and finished before closing time today... The total will be..." he pauses, calculating, "...forty-five silver pieces."
The price is substantial – nearly all the silver you looted from Elara – but for three pieces of high-quality, well-fitting clothing, including a durable cloak and same-day service, in a proper town shop, it doesn't feel entirely unreasonable according to Oracle's earlier assessment of 'moderate' pricing for this establishment. It represents a significant investment in both comfort and blending in appropriately for your journey.
"Forty-five silver," you echo, nodding. That price feels steep but fair for the quality and service. It will leave your silver reserves depleted again, relying mostly on the gold, but good clothing is a worthwhile investment. "Acceptable. Let's proceed."
You reach into your bum bag again, retrieving the necessary amount from Elara's coin stash. You carefully count out four stacks of ten silver coins and five individual pieces onto Fenlow's counter. He recounts it quickly but carefully, nods, and scoops the payment into his till.
"Very good," Fenlow says, his professional smile firmly in place. "Allow me just a moment to pin the trousers for alteration." He quickly makes a few chalk marks and pins the waist of the brown trousers you're wearing. "Right. You can change back into your old things for now. There's a stool by the window there," he gestures, "Make yourself comfortable. My assistant, Lina, should be back from her errand shortly, and she can handle the stitching straight away. It should be ready in... oh, perhaps two hours?"
"Thank you," you say. You retreat back into the changing area, swap back into the rough Oakhaven clothes, and hand the new tunic, trousers, and cloak back to Fenlow. He takes the trousers immediately to a side table where Lina presumably works.
You take the indicated stool by the window. From here, you can watch the quiet activity of Artisan's Way outside and keep an eye on the shop interior. Feeling peckish again after the earlier excitement and shopping, you pull out the remaining half-loaf of Oakhaven bread and the last chunk of cheese from your jacket pocket. You eat slowly, washing it down with water from your waterskin, making the simple rations last while you wait.
True to Fenlow's word, a young woman with nimble fingers and spectacles arrives about twenty minutes later, nods a greeting to Fenlow, and immediately sets to work on the alterations to your trousers with swift, expert stitches. Fenlow himself works on folding and preparing the new tunic and cloak.
The next couple of hours pass uneventfully. You watch the street traffic, observe Fenlow occasionally consulting with other customers who come in for fittings or fabric, and rest your legs. The steady rhythm of the shop is calming after the tension of the morning.
Finally, Fenlow approaches you. "All finished," he announces, holding up the altered trousers alongside the neatly folded tunic and cloak. "Try them on again, make sure everything sits right."
You go back into the changing area. This time, the fit is perfect. The trousers sit comfortably at your waist, not interfering with your belt or weapons. The tunic allows free movement, and the cloak drapes well, even over the back harness. It feels like proper gear.
Emerging, you give Fenlow a nod of approval. "Excellent work. Thank you."
You gather your discarded Oakhaven tunic and trousers, folding them somewhat haphazardly and stuffing them into the empty burlap sack you acquired back near the Fletcher cabin. You then manage to fit this sack, along with the rolled wool blanket, into the courier's leather satchel, which now serves more effectively as a small backpack.
Readjusting your newly acquired clothes, weapons harness, belt, and the satchel, you give Fenlow a final nod and exit the shop, the bell jingling softly behind you. The late afternoon sun is beginning to dip lower in the sky. You head back through the familiar streets towards The Tipsy Troll Inn and the relative privacy of your room, feeling much better equipped and slightly more anonymous in your new, well-fitting attire.
Time: Late Afternoon (Approx 4:45 PM)
Date: 04/05/1042
Status:
- New Clothes Acquired & Fitted: Dark grey tunic, brown trousers, dark grey cloak. Old Oakhaven clothes stored.
- Location: Returning to room at The Tipsy Troll Inn.
- AI Status: Passive monitoring.
Inventory: - Currency: 14 Gold Coins, 18 Silver Coins, 35 Copper Coins. (Spent 45 Silver)
- Clothing: Dark Grey Woolen Tunic, Brown Woolen Trousers, Dark Grey Woolen Cloak, Leather Boots (Now Wearing).
- Stored Clothing: Sack containing Oakhaven Tunic/Trousers (Dirty) and modern clothes (Dirty) now stored inside Leather Satchel.
- Weapons: Fine++ Steel Short Sword (Back-harness), Fine+ Horn-Hilted Curve Blade (Back-harness), Fine+ Steel Main Gauche (Belt), Good Skinning Knife (Belt).
Other: Leather Satchel (Courier's, now used as backpack), Wool Blanket (in Satchel). Bum Bag (Contents unchanged - phone, charger, meds, etc.). Leather Waterskin (Full). Rations (Approx 1 day remaining).