Baldur's Gate - A Smith's shoppe (Gideon)

[dak12attack]

Somewhere behind the warehouses of docks of the Gate, the sounds of metal coming down upon metal ring out from a small workshop tucked behind an alley. Any one persons who find themselves curious as to the source of the sound would find a small blacksmith's shoppe tucked out of sight by a simple passerby.

The door is open, and above it hangs an old oak-wood sign depicting an anvil. It seems to swing freely upon the iron hooks on which it hangs, if a welcoming breeze finds it way down the narrow street. Should one dare enter, their eyes uncover an elderly male pounding a block of metal into a crude form. One could presume him to be the owner of the workshop, and some might know him as Gideon the smith. His shop was smallish due to the building he inhabits, but he makes the most out of his space. Tools are neatly kept on hand-made pegs on the face of one solid wood workbench, and an anvil served as a centerpiece.

Should one not be interested in the smith's shop, to the immediate right of the doorway, a few of his wares are on display. A hand-painted sign marks the items as "for sale."

The items are as follows:

A sturdy closed-face helmet that protects the wearer's head (( +3 Deflection ))
A kukri that holds a deadly inward edge (( +3 EB))
A mail shirt of mithral-make (( +1 Armour, Lawful only ))
A light crossbow that seems to conjure ammunition (( +3 AB, Mighty +4, Unlimited Ammo: +3 EB ))

[Wyatt]

*Small edit just to add the pc's name to the title. Smith is such a common surname after all.

[Zeland]

A man in dark armor approaches the elderly smith with a look of excitement on his face. "Hello good sir, I happened to notice your fine morningstar on display, would you be willing to take 30 bags for it?"

[ctothep]

Samael stumbling upon the shop would take a curious glance over the wares presented. His eyes rest on the fine piece of mithral.

"Is a fine chainshirt ye have there! I gon offer ye ... eh ... 15 bags, what ye sayin?"

[dak12attack]

A man in dark armor approaches the elderly smith with a look of excitement on his face. "Hello good sir, I happened to notice your fine morningstar on display, would you be willing to take 30 bags for it?"

The smith's eye catches the form and figure of the man in darkened armour as he enters the dockside shoppe. He finalizes on the shape of the broadsword upon his anvil, using few and precise strikes to set the shape of the weapon. Gideon sets his tools down, and wipes at his sweaty brow as the man speaks up.

His eyes turn upon the morningstar in question - only to glance back at the man and his offering. "Thirty bags of... gold, I presume?" He rubs at his neck with his left hand, scratching with idle ponderment. His eyes narrow as a scheme forms in his mind. "Tell you what, the morningstar is yours if you donate that coin to the orphanage." He nods in final.

...

Samael stumbling upon the shop would take a curious glance over the wares presented. His eyes rest on the fine piece of mithral.

"Is a fine chainshirt ye have there! I gon offer ye ... eh ... 15 bags, what ye sayin?"

After the dealings with the first man, who was bedecked in dark armour, Gideon goes back to work. He heats the blade up to that same orange glow and pulls it from the coals of his roaring forge. Instantly, he dunks the weapon into a trough of murky water. The waters boil and hiss and scream as the weapon rapidly cools and within moments the blacksmith pulls forth the blade from the trough. His eyes narrow upon the weapon and inspect it further for and imperfections. He finds none.

Setting the blade down on a workbench, he begins to grind away at the blade with a multitude of whetstones when he is interrupted by a customer - Samael. Seeing the man enter his shoppe, he rises from his work table to greet the man. "The chain shirt - hm." Again his eyes look to the piece, eyeing it with a silent appraisal. "Donate the fifteen bags to the orphanage in the East Gate, and it is yours."

[Zeland]

"yes 30 bags of gold" he nods to the smith. "you are truly a gentleman, the coin will go to the orphanage as you wish." the armored man smiles. "I will return after I have delivered the coin." *he walks off with a bounce to his step.

[MistyMountain]

A woman almost completely covered in metal points to one of the suits of armor. "Hello, sir, I'm Alora. I have been looking for this type of armor, will 20 bags suffice?"

((20 bags for Gram's full plate

[dak12attack]

"yes 30 bags of gold" he nods to the smith. "you are truly a gentleman, the coin will go to the orphanage as you wish." the armored man smiles. "I will return after I have delivered the coin." *he walks off with a bounce to his step.

"Nay a gentleman," the blacksmith almost mutters. "Just... someone else can use it better than I."

As the man goes to depart, the blacksmith returns to his previous task at hand. His tongs take up the broadsword that lay on his anvil, and plunge the beginnings of the weapon into the fire.

...

A woman almost completely covered in metal points to one of the suits of armor. "Hello, sir, I'm Alora. I have been looking for this type of armor, will 20 bags suffice?"

((20 bags for Gram's full plate

Hours pass since his last customer, and the smith is found still at his work table when Alora enters his shoppe. The man is bent over the table, polishing the final weapon. The blade itself shimmers with a brilliant silver and has intricate runes that of Draconic nature inlaid in the metal of the weapon. The grip was leather-bound with a darkish leather from some beast, and the crossguard boasted an upward swept design, and seemed to look like wings perhaps that of a dragon. To finalize the blade was a pommel in the form of a great wyrm snarling and in its mouth, a ruby sits.

He hears Alora's approach and sets down the beautifully-crafted weapon, turning to regard her. His pale, tired eyes of icy-blue glance the completely armoured woman, and the armour he has on display. "I could let it go for twenty bags, aye. Donate it to the orphanage, and come back to me after. We'll get your measurements and I'll adjust the fit for you."

Gideon nods in final.

[qwertyh88]

A mid-sized human walks into the shop. "Hello Sir, I am Gerristan Roger. I am looking for some protective items....Ah..I see you have a fine helm here. Would you be willing to part with it for 10 bags of gold?

//Helm +3 deflection.

[realayer]

Hearing the sound of a hammering smith, a man clad in plate armour approach the alley looking for a new suit of plate to replace his old one for his new adventure. He looks at the armour on display and senses its special property in resisting magic, thinking it be will a great asset in his new adventure.

"Good evening smith, I like this fine armour. How much will it cost me to claim it as mine?"

[dak12attack]

A mid-sized human walks into the shop. "Hello Sir, I am Gerristan Roger. I am looking for some protective items....Ah..I see you have a fine helm here. Would you be willing to part with it for 10 bags of gold?

//Helm +3 deflection.

The smith can be found within his workshop working on various project. Today, he makes nails - hammering out each into shape and taking a cloth measuring strip to measure the length. He makes adjusts as according, each of the nails long and broad. One might assume due to the location of his shoppe, he is making them for the shipyard.

He eyes Gerristan as he hammers, letting his hammer rest upon the anvil. He wipes a bead of sweat from his brow as he regards the man. "Aye, ten bags of gold will do fine."

...

Hearing the sound of a hammering smith, a man clad in plate armour approach the alley looking for a new suit of plate to replace his old one for his new adventure. He looks at the armour on display and senses its special property in resisting magic, thinking it be will a great asset in his new adventure.

"Good evening smith, I like this fine armour. How much will it cost me to claim it as mine?"

Later in the day, the smith still works on the nails. The task is tedious, as he draws out a thin stock of iron thinner, tapering off the end. He finds the point to his liking, and then heats the stock itself just a few mere inches above the taper. Hundreds of these nails are piled up on a nearby workbench, a mass of black hardware. Movement catches his eye, and the blacksmith looks upon the man. He sets down his tools and rounds the anvil to greet the man, wiping his own hands upon the front of his soot-stained shirt.

"The armour, aye? Hrm. Sold the other suit for twenty bags, so I suppose that's the price. Sound fair?"

(( I apologise for the lack of response. The forum change has messed with my topic notifications, and I don't get them anymore. ))

[realayer]

Later in the day, the smith still works on the nails. The task is tedious, as he draws out a thin stock of iron thinner, tapering off the end. He finds the point to his liking, and then heats the stock itself just a few mere inches above the taper. Hundreds of these nails are piled up on a nearby workbench, a mass of black hardware. Movement catches his eye, and the blacksmith looks upon the man. He sets down his tools and rounds the anvil to greet the man, wiping his own hands upon the front of his soot-stained shirt.

"The armour, aye? Hrm. Sold the other suit for twenty bags, so I suppose that's the price. Sound fair?"

(( I apologise for the lack of response. The forum change has messed with my topic notifications, and I don't get them anymore. ))

The man smiles as he heard the smith's offer.

"Twenty bags?" The man says, "This is such a good price. I will gladly buy the armour from you."

[dak12attack]

"Twenty bags?" The man says, "This is such a good price. I will gladly buy the armour from you."

"Sold a suit just like that for that price just the other day. Wouldn't be right to charge another more for the same." The grey-haired smith goes to a wash basin and quickly washes his hands and face.

"I'll need to take your measurements, so I can adjust the armour accordingly."

...

Later that day, the elderly smith can be seen trading a large parcel over to the armoured man, Gyren. The blacksmith unhappily accepts the man's money after a brief trading of words.

They offer each other words of departure and Gideon returns to the forge to finish a few last orders for the day.

[dak12attack]

Rumour has it that the smith is seeking a pair of gloves to heighten his craft. Those who wish to part way with a pair would find the man in his shoppe, no doubt.

(( Seeking Gloves of the Artificer, Greater (+6 to all craft skills) ))

[dak12attack]

(( Bump. ))