The small shop-front was crammed to the brim with used weapons of all styles, sizes, and shapes. The one thing that they all had in common was that they bore signs of use, some also bore the marks of age, but all were serviceable and ready for use, their owner made sure of that.

The proprietor, Belgar sat behind the store’s counter on a wooden stool tall enough that he could keep an eye on the store’s one entrance at all times. People had tried to steal a great many things from the stocky ex-delver but they’d never been successful, over time his own reputation and that of the shop had merged and thieves had stopped coming, clearly willing to go elsewhere, rather than be beaten black and blue by an old delver  whiling away his final years selling used arms and armour.

The bell attached to the door chimed, announcing a potential customer and in walked a boy, clearly old enough to delve and die but not yet a man by Belgar’s standard. His face turned upwards in a smile when he glimpsed the medallion around the boy’s chest.

“Greetings! Welcome to my humble store. We have arms and armour, all worn all used. None new but all are ready for use in the Dungeon, I’ve made sure of that” The stocky man bellowed out in a gravelly tone.

“Just thought I’d subject you to my regular spiel for the hell of it. You’re Earnest’s Grandson, William aren’t ya. How is he?”

The boy visibly crumpled. Grimaced, took a deep breath and forced himself to stand straight once more. “He’s dead. Old age got him when his enemies and delving couldn’t scratch the hair off his beard”

Belgar sighed at that. “I’m sorry for your loss, boy. If you’re here… Well” He let the word trail off into silence.

“You don’t need to honour his memory like that y’know. He wouldn’t want you to risk your life as he did, to begin with. He’d want you to use all the advantages he could give you. T’make sure you lived through the things he near on died to”

William shook a little but stood tall, glancing around the store a moment before replying in an even tone. “I don’t care what anyone else wants. I’m not doing this for the family, they’re dead set against it and near on tried to stop me by force. I don’t give a single shit what anyone else wants from me or with me”

He paused before starting to speak again “They can want to ride my coattails into a cushy job with the Ambraelle all they want, it won’t change my mind. If I fail to find an honest party. I’ll climb with my own two hands and feet, fighting the Dungeon for the right to it”

Belgar laughed a hearty, carefree laugh. “Good to see a young one full of life. Well you know the drill, I’ve got arms and I’ve got armour. What can I do you for?” He said gesturing grandly at the wares around him.

“Simple spear of some kind, around the height I am. No enchantments, ash-wood shaft—” he trailed off “—I also need an arming sword, preferably with a durability enchantment as well as a scabbard and whetstone to go with it”

Belgar nodded, leading him past two barrels filled with various polearms to a floor to ceiling rack of spears. Each had a different head, some acting more as spikes while others seemed to favour extended blades in the Japanese and Chinese styles.

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It didn’t take too long for William to make his choice, taking a spear slightly taller than him, furnished with a wicked looking extended leaf-blade secured in place by both glue and a traditional set of pins. The haft was of seasoned ash as requested.

“Simple is best. I’ll spare you the story but that spear was used with a small buckler by its former owner who swore by the combination” Belgar said, passing yet another smallsword over the William to get the heft and feel of.

“I’ll go with this one. The engraving is in bad taste but it’s sharp and balanced” The stocky shopkeep nodded at that, passing him a well-worn sheath to stow it in.

The man left William standing next to the whetstone, spear and sheathed sword atop his oak counter and returned with a small blued-steel buckler, reinforced and slightly bigger than a dinner plate.

“This is it here. I’d recommend a shield to you even if these two didn’t match like peas in a pod” Belgar laughed, pointing at the identical colouration on both shield and spear.

Choosing his armour didn’t take anywhere near as long with William immediately choosing a set of 6in1 wielded chainmaille shirt as well as a plain white padded gambeson to wear under it, and well a simple set of heavily enchanted leather gauntlets. He’d promised his Grandfather that he would keep his hands safe at all costs and Will didn’t intend to break it because of his own vanity.

As for his legs, Will chose a set of burnished curboille leathers. He already had his hobnailed boots so he skipped buying another pair.

“Fifty Duco for the spear, seventy for the sword, a self-healing whetstone for five, thirty-five for the buckler. One hundred eighty even for the maille, curboille and gambison” Belgar said, face devoid of his usual cheer.

“All in all it comes to an easy 340 Duco, probably would have cost you two or three times that new,” he said expectantly.

In response, William pulled out an unexpectedly light purse and passed over three gold and four silver coins. The shopkeep pulled out an impossibly small box and deposited each coin into it with a satisfying clink.

Will wore the sword, carried the spear and deposited both his medallion and the rest of his purchases into his spatial ring, it barely fit.

“Be careful with that. People will stab you in a back alley for much less than a lesser spatial ring. It’s shrouded but no one is dumb enough not to know one when they see it used in front of them”

William nodded, thanked Belgar and left for his accommodations.

Back in the store Belgar locked the door and engaged the store’s enchantments. Double and triple checking to make sure they engaged properly.

He crumpled onto a leather armchair out the back of the store, far from the windows. It didn’t take long before a glass of brandy was in his hand. “Old man Undying… Shit”

He took a deep gulp, refilled his glass and laid back into the chair, refusing to acknowledge the tears. Refusing to acknowledge that he may just have seen the Grandson of a man he respected for the last time and been complicit in sending him to his death with a laugh and a smile on his face.

Belgar Norland sat quietly and mourned. For an old friend and for a boy he may never see again.