Death Guns In Another World

Chapter 14 - 11: Visiting a Blacksmith Store

Leaving the Moonlight Inn, Alex ventured in the opposite direction, his path dictated by chance rather than intention. Suddenly, a tantalizing aroma of roasted meat snagged his attention. Though satiated from a prior meal, Alex found himself drawn ineluctably towards the source of this irresistible fragrance.

His nose leading the way, he soon discovered the culprit: skewers of meat sizzling under a shopʼs awning. Without hesitation, he exchanged two copper coins for one of these enticing morsels. In high spirits, he strolled away, the savory treat nestled in his hand.

The skewer resembled a kebab, the meat bearing an ambiguous identity – stewed or roasted, it was difficult to discern. The encasing, reminiscent of a thick crepe, cradled the meat snugly. Taking a tentative bite, Alex savored the burst of juicy flavor. While the seasoning erred on the side of simplicity, the combination of succulent meat and earthy wheat satisfied his palate.

Curiosity, however, gnawed at him. The meat possessed a vaguely avian quality, though pork wasnʼt out of the question. He mentally resolved to inquire about its origin from the vendor later.

As he devoured the skewer, Alexʼs feet continued their journey, eventually depositing him before a shop bustling with the rhythmic clang of hammering. Pushing open the door, he stepped inside.

The storeʼs interior brimmed with an array of weaponry adorning the walls – swords, spears, imposing axes, and daggers hung in silent display. Drawn towards the reception desk, Alex found himself face-to-face with a friendly face.

”Welcome to Smithʼs Store! Are you a potential customer, perhaps seeking the perfect weapon for your needs? We have a vast selection to suit any adventurer,” chirped the receptionist, Sera. With a slight bow, she introduced herself, revealing a warm smile that accentuated her auburn hair and kind brown eyes.

Alex, captivated by her welcoming demeanor, returned the smile before launching into his reason for visiting. ”Itʼs a pleasure to meet you, Sera. My name is Alexander Touch. While I donʼt intend to purchase a weapon today, I have come to inquire about...”

The booming voice resonated through the shop, silencing any doubts Alex might have harbored. A burly figure emerged from the hammeringʼs symphony, his silhouette framed by the workshopʼs warm glow. Towering over two meters, the man exuded an aura of quiet power, his muscles hinting at countless hours spent wielding hammer and forge.

A bushy brown beard framed his weathered face, and his eyes, like embers reflecting the furnaceʼs heat, held both warmth and keen observation.

”State your desire, young man,” He rumbled, his voice a low, gravelly counterpoint to Seraʼs lilting chime.

”This Smith does not indulge in idle inquiries.”

Undeterred by the gruff demeanor, Alex met the Smithʼs gaze with a steady resolve.

”My name is Alexander Touch, and I have come seeking your expertise,” he replied, his voice firm and respectful.

”I require a custom-made knife, built to precise specifications.”

Reaching into his item box, Alex produced two sheets of parchment. One bore a meticulously drawn image of the desired blade, its lines crisp and confident. The other contained a list of detailed specifications, each word carefully chosen to convey his vision.

The Smith took the papers, his brow furrowed in concentration as he examined the drawing. A flicker of appreciation softened his gaze.

”Impressive sketch,” He finally conceded, his voice gruff but not unkind.

”I can forge your vision into steel.”

”Excellent,” Alex smiled, relieved by the Smithʼs approval.

”The blade should be...” He proceeded to explain the desired dimensions, emphasizing its need for lightness, sharpness, and exceptional durability.

The Smith listened intently, occasionally interjecting a clarifying question or a thoughtful suggestion. He proposed incorporating rare Mithril into the blade, further enhancing its strength and sharpness. Alex readily agreed, intrigued by the prospect of this exotic metal.

”Now, for the scabbard and handle,” the Smith rumbled, ”I would prefer to use materials of my own choosing. They will complement the blade and ensure its longevity.”

Alex, trusting the Smithʼs expertise, readily assented. ”Of course, I value your judgment.”

He then produced another document, outlining his desire for custom-made throwing knives, modeled after the renowned ”Expendables Kunai.”

The Smith scanned the details, a hint of amusement sparking in his eyes.

”Ah, a man of discerning taste,” Smith chuckled, a rare sound that rumbled like distant thunder.

”Leave it to me, young Touch. You shall have blades worthy of you.”

”So, young Touch,” Smith rumbled, his voice gravelly yet not unkind, ”How many of these throwing knives do you desire?”

Alex, heartened by the Smithʼs willingness to take on his project, promptly replied,

”I envision a set of five, each honed to razor-sharp perfection.”

The Smith nodded, his gruff demeanor masking a spark of intrigue.

”Five it is, then. Return in two days, and they shall be ready.”

A flicker of apprehension crossed Alexʼs mind.

Two days? With his urgent desire to begin taking guild requests, the wait felt interminable. He cleared his throat and ventured,

”And the cost of this formidable set, including the custom knife?”

Before the Smith could respond, Sera, her voice lilting like wind chimes, interjected,

”Thirty gold coins, sir. This price includes all future maintenance for both blade and throwing knives.”

Alex, ever the adept negotiator, countered without missing a beat. ”Twenty-five gold, and I guarantee all my future weapon commissions will find their way to your esteemed forge.”

A playful glint lit up the Smithʼs eyes. He chuckled, a sound like boulders tumbling down a mountainside.

”A fair offer, young man. And who am I to deny a talented customer like yourself?”

Sera, though hesitant, conceded with a graceful nod.

”As you wish, sir. Twenty-five gold coins it is.”

Alex retrieved the hefty sum from his spatial storage, his mind abuzz with the possibilities these weapons held. As he placed the coins in Seraʼs hand, a thought struck him.

”Forgive me,” He interjected, ”but I envision a custom black sheath for my throwing knives. One equipped with a boot clip and leg strap for easy access.”

Smith, his eyes gleaming with the same childlike fervor Alex had glimpsed earlier, boomed,

”Leave it to me, young Touch! Your blades will be as sleek and deadly as the night itself.”

He then vanished into the workshop, leaving Alex and Sera in a comfortable silence. As they exchanged pleasantries, a sense of anticipation grew within Alex. All the pieces were falling into place: his honed skills, his customized arsenal, and the guild waiting for his arrival. He left the shop, excitement thrumming through his veins, eager to return and claim his instruments of destiny.