[-1HP]
Morgan awoke suddenly the next morning with a damage notification in his vision and a sharp pain in his toe. He glanced down the bed in alarm to see that the cats had migrated onto the floor, apart from the two black cats; one of which had bitten his toe. Scowling, he threw his pillow at them, which they nimbly dodged by diving off the bed, before retrieving the soft projectile and laying back down to sleep. Many meows later, he realised that he wasn’t getting any more sleep, and got up to face the early morning.
He put some meat down for the cats, and after watching them for a while he decided to leave them loose in the room as he explored the town. He double checked to make sure they wouldn't be able to escape and get into trouble while he was out, then headed down to the bar. The innkeeper waited patiently behind the counter, and smiled to Morgan as he entered, offering breakfast. Deciding between sausages, some kind of yoghurt and a cheese roll, he opted for the former and, 50 coppers lighter, went to find a spot in the empty seating area.
Once the meal was fully enjoyed, Morgan thanked the innkeeper and headed out into the town. He figured that today would be well used exploring the town; it’d be handy to know the range of goods and facilities on offer before he was put to work. However, as the hour was still early, the place was just waking up and only a few of the buildings that lined the streets had open shutters. Deciding to start with a walk around the inner circumference of the wall, he headed towards the looming manor building, and once getting close, headed to the east wall to start heading around the town. It wasn’t long before he came across a small smithy in operation, the muffled clanging from within drawing him out of the quiet street. He knocked on the door, and receiving no answer, tried the handle. It opened easily, and he stepped in to a swelteringly hot room. Before a roaring furnace stood a wiry man over an anvil, in his hands he held tongs and a hammer. The glowing ingot on the forge was forgotten as the man turned to face the incomer.
He put down his tools as he addressed the Morgan in a friendly manner, a smile on his weathered face, “Good early morning to you. I’m Yulotag, but folks call me Tag. Welcome to Caslon's humble smithy. I don’t get too many outworlders here. It’s not much, but it’s enough to train the smithing class if that’s what you’re here for.”
Morgan smiled back at the affable man as he replied, “Good to meet you Tag, I’m Morgan. I appreciate the offer, but sadly I don’t think I’ll have time to explore the craft. I believe I’m to be kept busy while I’m here. I’d appreciate a look at some of the goods and their prices, though. Also, would you be able to repair this?” with this, he retrieved the sickle from the holster and held it up.
[Identify - Agricultural Sickle - Tool]
[Use: Allows the harvesting of certain herbs and plants]
[Durability - 22/35]
[Melee Damage - 38-49]
It was mostly blunted at this point, and its tip slightly bent after all the use it'd been through. He handed it to the smith, who held it for a moment, before replying, “Sure, won’t take too long either. It’ll be 10 coppers per point of durability, so 1 silver 30.”
Morgan nodded and withdrew the coins, handing them over, as Tag continued, “If you want to see what I’ve got for sale, well it’s not a lot. The baron keeps me busy on his personal projects.” a quick flash of irritation crossed the smiths face, clearing quickly as he drew Morgan’s eye to the far wall, where a small stand of weapons and armour stood, “Here; I’ve got a couple of swords, the short sword is one gold and twenty silvers, the falchion is one gold fifty silvers. That hefty axe is the same price. There’s one set of full plate, except the pauldrons which I’m still making, and I'll price the lot up when I’m done. Lastly a chainmail shirt for two gold and fifty silvers.” The player eyed the armaments appreciatively. While the items weren't extravagant, they seemed well crafted to his untrained eye.
He replied to the smith, “Thanks, you’ve got some really great stuff here. I’m certainly interested but can’t afford much right now. I’ll sure be back if I can stretch to a decent sword and chainmail. I really hope I can soon.”
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Tag acknowledged Morgan’s sentiment with a nod, “I hope you can soon too,” the man grinned, “Leave the sickle here with me for a few hours, you can come back to collect it after lunch. Smithy shuts at seven, so if you want it today, get it before then. If you want someone to look at that vambrace, there’s a small workshop a bit further along the wall, old Patch can fix it up for you.”
Morgan thanked the smith, and headed back out into the town, turning to the direction of the indicated workshop. A short walk had him outside of a series of small buildings, and an old man was pottering about in a yard cluttered with boxes, barrels and frames. A few strips of leather were hanging on some of the frames, and he saw the old man by one, rummaging about in a crate. Morgan addressed the man, who hadn’t noticed his approach, “Excuse me, is this the leatherworking workshop?”
The old man jumped slightly, startled, and span to face Morgan. Seeing the mundane nature of his visitor, he relaxed a bit and gestured grumpily to a leather filled rack, “What’s it look like. What's got you creeping around early in the morning disturbing poor tradesmen, eh?”
Morgan explained his presence, giving the man his vambrace. The old man perked up a bit and introduced himself as Patch. He looked at the slightly worn armour for a few seconds, asking 20 coppers for the repair, which Morgan quickly handed over. With that dealt with, they moved inside the building and on to the man's array of gear. He was shown a variety of leather pieces covering all sorts of body parts; ranging from a roughly matching vambrace for 20 silvers, to a full leather jerkin for one gold and 80 silvers. His attention was drawn to a solid looking pair of boots. Finding out they were 70 silvers; he thanked the man for his time and agreed to come back later in the afternoon for the vambrace. The old man bade him a gruff goodbye and got back to his pottering.
Morgan, feeling good about getting his gear repaired for such reasonable prices, and daydreaming of future purchases, walked along road by the wall with a light step. The good mood lasted for fleeting moment, until the thought that with his 13 remaining silver he’d do well enough just to pay for food and board, let alone buy a sword, bought him back down to earth. He would have to find some quests to do around his labour or try and find a way to make some coin while on the job. He noted to himself to ask the innkeeper about any potential jobs when he visited the inn for lunch.
The town was in the full swing of waking up now, with characters walking with purpose to their destinations, or bustling about the buildings, setting up their businesses for their day of work. He passed a small lumber mill, it’s large blade still sleeping, and a group of buildings that had the air of warehouses, before he reached the gate.
He kept up his trajectory following the wall around, finding that this side of the town was mostly residential, with cottage like brick buildings featuring small front gardens filled with shrubs and flowers. Slowing his step he enjoyed the pleasant displays, before coming once more to the Manor. He set off into the centre of the town, passing what looked to be a grocer, a butcher, and a few small shops selling various trinkets. He took some time to browse around the shops, though with his pitiful riches he couldn’t afford to buy anything. He noted an alchemist's shop, selling potions at the same rate as Simmon in Welcombe, and a messy shop with some bizarre charms mixed amongst the junk that he’d have to take the time to explore at a later date.
As it was coming to lunchtime, he headed back to the inn. He caught the innkeeper before he went upstairs, asking about any prospective work in the town. The man explained that most of the craftspeople would pay for relevant materials if he could find out what they were and acquire them. The grocer apparently had a need for help, but the innkeeper didn’t know the details. He promised Morgan he’d have an ask around, before the player headed up to his room for lunch. Morgan found the kittens sleeping in a pile on the bed and laid out more of the awful looking offal from his inventory for them, causing them to stir as one and make their way to the small pile with stretches and yawns. After he too had eaten and given the now lively bunch a bit of attention, he headed back into the town.
He browsed the various shops, inspecting their goods while questioning the shopkeepers about anything specific they may need. He found that the butcher would, unsurprisingly, take any fresh animal kills and pay for the meat’s value. He would also, for a small price, give the creatures hide back if he didn’t want to skin it himself. The grocer had a bounty of a silver each for a particular yellow and grey capped mushroom, apparently found nearby, called the Bellishroom.
He headed back over to the more industrial quarter and checked in at the sawmill, where he was told they’d take logs, but there likely wouldn’t be much use to him trying seriously unless he took up the lumberjack class; which of course he couldn’t now, even if he wanted to.
So, he headed back to Tag, the smith, and picked up his freshly straightened and sharpened sickle, and hearing the smith’s request for any ore or scrap metal he may find. A final visit to Patch at the leather workshop had him pick up his vambrace, looking good as new, even if that state was still a bit shabby looking. The old man asked him for any hides or other useful looking monster parts that he may find on his travels. Wishing Patch goodbye, Morgan saw that it was well past midday. Deciding it was time to get it over with, he headed up to the manor.