ORIGIN

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It sounded as such, this weapon was almost useless to him. His teeth did more damage defending against monsters than this weapon ever would. A shake of his head. Perhaps he could.. just give it to Zephiran to keep. A shame nonetheless. But for now he'd think about it.

"I still think it's rather neat. I might hold onto it for a bit and decide. I don't think I’ll ever need to use it."

Belvadair spoke clearly.

"I will not be fighting in any wars I do not think. But you never know.. Tea sounds nice though."

Belvadiar was curious though. If he knew this much, what else does the blacksmith know? This might be useful if he ever needed anything for fighting. Or maybe even something for decoration.

"What else can you make? I'd like to learn more. If you wish to speak of it."

A simple tea discussion… how interesting this could be.

"Speaking"

@ Blacksmith

The Blacksmith turned, sweeping carefully around his anvil to the alcove set up for tea. He spent a moment preparing, speaking as he did. "Take a seat... at the table. And do. It is a work of art. A beautiful piece, even simply for... admiring. Perhaps... the best use of a blade."

War was ever a tragedy.

"As for other things... of course I will speak of them. I create weapons, and armor... tools. Anything that can be worked with metal, there is a... chance that I can create it." He took a breath, and carried two cups of green tea to the table, setting one down. "Let it cool--it will burn your mouth, at first. But hmm."

He slid into a seat--an old wooden chair--and looked around his workshop. He began to point out various items: blades and axes, shields and flails, pieces of jagged-spined armor or shining platemail. Tools: shovels and rakes, even cutlery; and all the while he spoke.

"There are various types of weapons..." he began, but his voice quickly moved through the list, explaining all that he pointed out: their origins, their purpose, and the need--or lack thereof--for those objects within the caves. He paused for questions, of course; but by the time he finished, any tea left over would have long since gone cold.

@Belvadair

Awkwardly he moved to sit beside the table, the blade came with. He set it gently underneath his paw while he waited. Ears cupped forward, he set his paws neatly down on the wooden chair. Tail wrapped along his paws.

Waiting for the tea to cool off before.. he’d lap it up as a dog would. It didn't taste bad either. And he would ask questions as needed. A lot of information was given. It was helpful. Useful information.

When it was all said and done, he shifted to stretch his dark paws. A leap down off the chair, a mere admirable gaze to all the things the blacksmith had made.

"It’s something. Who makes the wooden stuff? Like chairs, whatnot."

There was stuff that he didn't know who to talk to about it. Although if the smith said he made it, he wouldn't put it past the blacksmith to make his own chair set too.

"Oh! If I keep the blade for now, is there a way to adjust it better to like my leg?"

"Speaking"

@ Blacksmith

The Blacksmith gently shook his head. "There is no one... specifically to work wood. I create some things. My furniture is... crude, but," and here his hand ran down a chair leg, "at least worn smooth with use, yes?" He sipped his tea for a moment, peering at Belvadair as the wolf asked his other question.

"Adjust it better to like your leg?" he repeated back, a little puzzled. Perhaps the 'like' was that bridge-word he'd heard used, but even so, he couldn't quite grasp what was meant by adjusting a sword to the wolf's leg.

@Belvadair

"Outta curiosity, does metal not make a good chair?" His voice clear and calm, his head cocked to the side. Merely curious why they hadn't made a metal chair. Maybe it wasn't as comfortable. "I don't think it's crude at all. It does its job."

Of course if there was a way to smooth it out beforehand, that'd be nice. Who knows though. He wasn't entirely sure how that would even work to smoothen the edges. But it did peak his interest even more. To be one of the only ones making stuff like that. Surely he'd meet a lot of creatures that could want stuff. Although wooden would be pure decoration only.

"Yes?" It was kind of confusing. For him he didn't have a way to hold on to the blade. A moment of silence while he tried to gather his thoughts better. "I can't hold it well in my teeth."

Dark paws shifted gently, ears flickered. Oh damn, the helmet. "Another.. off subject question. I don't have it with me.. But me and another.. a while ago we found this helmet. It's rusted and rotten. My friend might come and ask you about it. Why.." His voice trailed off. Should he mention the cellar? Could he mention it was just hidden? Belvadair didn't want to give the details of the cellar away. In case something else overheard him, he didn’t want to make Zephiran become a target.

Belvadair knew.. err.. Zephiran wouldn't hurt a fly. Even when he eats, he makes sure to be.. specific? It's odd. Belvadair had never seen someone so skeptical about hunting. "Why would such a thing be hidden? It looked like it could fit my breed.. species?.. Whatever I am, when we are fully grown. That's partly the reason I sought you out."

The blade was too clean. Not dirty enough for something.. he has seen rotten and rusted before. Although he didn't remember every bit of detail about the helmet. Belvadair could pass the message along to Zephiran. Right?

Alas, if the blacksmith had no knowledge of how it could be there. That's fine. He might just send Zephiran with materials to fix it. Since he could do that, he seems to make much better things.

"Speaking"

@ Blacksmith

The Blacksmith hesitated, still confused. After a moment, he tried to rephrase Belvadair's question: "Do you mean... a way to hold it with your leg? Hmm. No, it would be too long--but if you seek a way to carry it, I could fashion... a scabbard that could fit... around your waist? Again, though... someone else would likely need to put it on and take it off for you." His speech pattern was again halting, slow and thoughtful as he considered.

Maybe a harness, of some kind-? He set that thought aside, though, at the next question.

"Hmm." A helmet-? Hidden? "Where was it hidden, or--how?" he asked. A lot would depend on that, of course; a helmet found at the bottom of a hole might simply mean the owner met a gruesome fate, whereas one sequestered in an armory might just be stored away... How odd.

@Belvadair

Gears churned in his mind. Ah, it was big indeed. Then he'd probably just let Zephiran hold onto it until he decided what to do with it.

He answered with the helmet. Asking questions though. A hum gently as he thought about his answer. What was the best way to describe it?

But he nodded. Someone as kind as this guy couldn't mean bad news. If it did, so be it his problem later. "So. Yes?"

His dark head cocked to the side while he spoke, a tooth bit of a click. "Me and…" Belvadair almost called Zephiran by his name. He stopped himself. "my friend. We found this.. hidden room. Among rooms. It had some sort of rusted helmet fit for someone like my species. Although we didn't touch it. It is deemed fragile."

There was clear of his throat, a golden shake of his fur.. "I mean other than taking you to see it, I'm not sure how to describe it. And the tunnel itself is just shy above someone a little bigger than us. Maybeee a bit taller. We haven't made a good clearance."

Mainly because they did not have the strength to move rocks. It would be easier if they could push things aside. "Do you know anything about any hidden tunnels?"

An odd question but someone had to know more about this. The cellar was long abandoned but someone had to know what might have happened.

"Speaking"

@ Blacksmith

"Hidden tunnel" could have been all sorts of things. The crux of it would depend upon where the tunnels had been found, he knew.

In some caves, if they were dug out of the earth and hidden, maybe they were just dens. In others... rebel hideaways. In others still, simple food storage or the like.

"Which cave were they in? And were they... dug from the ground? Like an animal den? Or paved with stones-? Were their entrances open or hidden?" He asked all of this thoughtfully, kindly. All the while he eyed the helmet, wondering.

@Belvadair

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Belvadair

Game Master Dark

Belvadair

Game Master Dark

Belvadair

Game Master Dark

Belvadair

Game Master Dark