Chapter 50. Negotiations.

  Sid met eyes with Monte, before walking away. Ignoring Monte’s wave while he started talking.

  “Hey there, Wait up.” Monte, headed for the door and dashed into the hallway. “Hold on.”

  “I'm not interested.”

  “You don't know what I was going to say friend.”

  Sid stopped and looked down at Monte with an intimidating and judgmental eye. Monte was only a hand or two shorter than Sid. Still though, even with his armors Sid outweighs the man—easily no question.

  Sid took a good look at the man. Standing there in his silly leather helmet. The dumb thing was scratching with pointless iron studs covering the soft tanning. Like that would do anything other than bust his skull on impact—each of those useless studs might as well of been a splitting maul for his head. The man did have surprising sky-blue eyes. Each bloodshot with veins breaking that milky white. Deep half-moons under those blue eyes—Sid reckon it had probably been a long couple of days for him as well. Monte had a dirty face. Hiding filthy facial hair, and a scar that striped his chin.

  He wore a black chainmail—it wasn’t in bad shape, Sid could appreciate that. Around his biceps though were thick scales—oh no wait, those were iron, now that was neat. Sid could fashion something like that—damn he never thought of scaled armor. Under that vest though, that looked to be scale of some sort. Deep. Marvelous. Reflective black scales—this was also something he could admire.

  The man wore some fine trousers much like his own. Monte’s though had those neat iron scales patched around the thighs—how dumb.

  Monte even wore shin high iron boots—what an ass, those can’t be comfortable. One was rather shiny and black. The other had dents—Sid bet this man was right hand dominate.

  “Hello, my name is Monte. You seen some of that back there huh?”

  Sid watched a hand come out for a shake. He also watched that hand slowly pull back—he wanted nothing to do with whatever it was Monte was going to ask, and he had an idea of what it could be, adventure. He only stared down on the young man.

  Monte seen Sid had no shirt, but was wearing Scarlet’s striders. And a pair of trousers that were very much like his own—this big fellow obviously trades with Scarlett. Then he seen the buckets and juicer. He chuckled—it was definitely official now.

  “Got you doing chores huh?” It was if anything a predatory smile, and Sid waited for him to continue, with a dull expression. “That’s an interesting eyepatch—whoa! Would you just look at that too, it even moves. Did you know that? Oh of course you did. It’s your eyepatch.”

  Sid didn't know this. That was rather interesting to him, and he kind of wanted to see for himself. Like said before he could appreciate magic. He wanted to work with enchanted relics, or jinxed charms fashioning them within metals—he knows he would craft some wonderful things.

  The magic race may have talents that are amazingly spectacular, but the greater majority of them lack in their sense of logic—and well their care for craftsmanship is uhh you know how folks would say ‘so so’. The tools they craft their own is usually—well its rather bleak typically it sucks—I’m trying to be nice because I like magic too, but gods damned, the shit wizards come up… anyways.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  There are plenty of common folk who do very well, taking requests upon those who require aid in crafting. Combining their stars in Tempering and Combined-Unity. Using magical relics. Binding the enchantments to weapons and tools. Giving them a very, very mild upgrade. Of course had a greater Tiered player or perhaps one with some might shiny stars did the craft. The potential. The abilities. Those who bare such a weapon could harness such magic from the duo.

  “Okay I'll just get into it. Can you use a sword, I see you carry one there.” Monte asked glancing at Sid’s bucket branding the sword.

  Sid slowly stepped from his fantasy of magical blacksmithing. Returning to this boring conversation he wanted nothing to do with. He needed to get a drink. Then maybe fill these buckets with berries and oil.

  “I'm not interested.” The mustache huffed before turning around.

  “I have rubies, I can trade with Scarlett. No chores.”

  “And be in your debt.” Sid’s laugh roared past the corridor, and a couple of wizards peeked out from a room to see the excitement. Monte laughed with him before he shut Sid up.

  “Which item was the charm.” He asked wiping a leaky blue.

  Sid stopped laughing at the remark. He looked at Fenrir. The good pup looked back it was a look that said ‘I don’t get it’. Sid then looked at Skeeter—yup still dusting that bald head, still wearing that nasty wool, still clutching Sid’s old boot. Monte, though still thought it was humorous.

  “What does that even mean?”

  “I see you have three very nice, and new looking items of enchanted threads.” He started. Pointing out each new item. Including the buckets. “Scarlet’s threads at that. You also carry two buckets. Now unless those are your buckets, which I know they are not. She said one item was on the house. You know, as third is the charm, did she not?” Those blues were anything but soft now. That question pressured Sid.

  “Something along those lines.” Sid thought hard, trying to remember just what she had said.

  “She's sly with her words. Sure, you'll be in my debt, but at least you'll know the end cost” It was a furtive response.

  “That would be?” Sid asked. Watching the man tap his chin.

  “Well, that would depend on Scarlet’s pricing.”

  "Why would that matter?"

  "Well depending on the amount, I loan you to purchase your items, will decipher your indenture-meant."

  Sid didn't like the sound of this. What's the difference between being a jockey for one person or the other, and based from what Scarlet said about Monte, he would rather get a couple buckets of berries and plant oils.

  “You, her, what's the difference.”

  “How do you think I got my armor?” Monte asked gesturing Sid to wait just a moment while he ran back into the medical room. Sid’s stomach sank again when he seen Monte return with two buckets of his own. “She is sly. Sure she’s a sweet old thing, but she is tricky.”

  “You have rubies, pay your debt.”

  “Oh I've tried, Scarlett says I've got to much debt for even the gods to help with.”

  Sid scratched his head a moment then rubbed the back of his neck. Monte’s offer was sounding just a little bit better. He didn't want to be doing odd chores forever, even if he got some new clothes or armor in return. “What would you ask me to do, I am only a old blacksmith.”

  Monte’s expression was nearly let down. “So, you don't know how to use the blade.”

  “I can use a sword, but I don't know if I'm who you’re looking for.” Sid said.

  Monte eyed the hefty man before him—no he would be perfect. More than just useful. This big fellow could be a wall. A barreling force for his group.

  “Just one task. All I ask is one adventure from a blacksmith.”

  Fenrir sat next to Sid, and all four took turns, looking at each other in silence. Sid took a long time to overthink the two options he had. Monte was a patient man. Casually passing his stare between Sid and the pup, occasionally at Skeeter.

  A deep voice broke in the corridors—not like a burly man of a voice either, it was the acoustics of the hall. It just made any voice boom, even the little ones.

  “Skeeter!”

  A scrawny boy shouted. There was nothing memory imprinting about him at all. Regular somewhat clean face. Dark eyes—one bruised. Thin nose and cracked pink lips. He did have a dark caterpillar of a unibrow—so no I suppose that was something Sid noticed and something that stuck. The boy wore dark brown clothes from his shirt to his trousers.