Chapter 46: Referrals, Roses, and Rosie

“Now that I see what you want, I have a few tests and measurements to make. Also, since I am going to do your weapons, you might as well tell me about your armor needs, too.”

Measuring for the armor made sense, but I wondered what Vitor meant by tests. I guess I’d see, right?

//Patience, young one//

‘Why do you keep insisting that you’re older than me? You literally can’t be.’

//Processing speed. My thought processes are infinitely faster than yours, giving me a greater perspective on the passing of time. A day for you is closer to a year for me//

‘The whole ‘dog years’ theory, huh? That does make sense, I admit.’

//Woof//

“Sure, no probs,” Tess told the weapon smith.

Vitor came around the counter and motioned for Tess to follow him, something she seemed more than eager to do. ‘Better watch it, or I’m going to tell Kolin!’ Vitor led my BFF to the grip-testing contraption, or at least that is what the thing looked like to me. Tak was close on her heels, her eyes fixed on the bare muscles displayed by the man. Women.

//Yes? Need I remind you of Tess arching her back?//

‘Ah, no. At least she had been wearing a shirt.’

//Not in your mind//

And…moving on.

Vitor lay a hand on Tess’s back, gently positioning her in front to the tester. “Grip the handle and give it a squeeze.”

“’K. As hard as I can?”

“For this one, yes. Give it your full strength.”

Tess did so, a faint redness tinging her dark skin and the veins in her neck popping like garden hoses. The spinning scale on top of the machine jumped, the dial pointing to numbers I assumed the smith understood.

“OK, release. Take a second, shake the strain out of your hand. Now, I want you to grip it like you would a weapon…”

‘Or a…’

//Nope//

“…firmly, but with no strain. Good.”

Tess released her grip, stepping back, the needle of the dial dropping down to zero. The number had been much lower this time, reflecting her casual grip strength. This guy was definitely applying the scientific method to his craft; I liked it. I needed to adopt a similar approach to scroll making, making use of my prior education and the AI in my head.

//I have a name//

Tak watched the whole process, a thoughtful look on her face. “Is the device purely mechanical?”

“Yes, Miss. I prefer measuring grip strength without any [mana] interference, it gives me an accurate, objective reference for the baseline weight.”

“How important…” Tak started to say, before answering herself. “Obviously you don’t want something too heavy to wield, but does it need to be that exact?”

“For a Master Crafter, yes.” There was no hint of arrogance on Vitor’s features; it was just plain fact.

“What if…what if the weapon is passed down to you?” Tak was surely referring to her father’s adventuring kit. “Can the weapon be adjusted, without changing its properties?”

“To a certain degree, I can customize the weight and balance. That is, if you really need it; most people don’t, when it comes to heirlooms. Not unless there is a significant issue.”

“But,” Tak said, worrying at the problem like a fish bone caught in her teeth. “If I want to be the best, I’ll need every advantage I can get.”

She was clearly obsessed, worryingly so.

“Noting can substitute for training, Miss. Not even my weapons and armor.” Alright, there were no self-esteem issues with this guy. Not quite arrogant, but closer to humble bragging. “An expert using a sharpened stick can take down an amateur with an [enchant]ed sword.”

“I know, I know. But both skill and especially fine weapons can take a fighter even farther.”

Whoa, maybe I needed to speak with Tak’s father urgently.

“No doubt,” Vitor said, before returning his attention to Tess. “Please step on the scale, over there.”

“You are seriously going to weigh a woman, and in front of others, too?” Tess said it playfully, causing Vitor to smile.

“It will be our secret,” Vitor said, placing a finger to his lips.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Like I would be stupid enough to mention her weight to Tess’s face. Besides, she was all muscle and no fat. Except, muscle weighed more than the same amount of fat, so her weight my be higher than I’d guess.

//Go ahead, say that. I dare you//

Tess stepped on the scale, Vitor noting it down in his book. Next, he pulled out a tape measure to take more measurements. Tess sure didn’t seem to mind it.

‘Oh, Kolin…’

Once he was done, Vitor retreated behind the sales counter. “And you, sir? Can I offer you anything?”

“Yeah, I guess I do need a weapon, unfortunately. Tak is taking care of my cloth armor,” I said, gesturing to her. “I was thinking about a club or small mace. Maybe a hammer. Something relatively easy to learn.”

“Ah, a caster then.”

I nodded to the man’s assumption. Going off D&D tropes, a spell caster tended to use blunt weapons. I didn’t know why, except it was common knowledge amongst the geeks and nerds.

“Should I use the grip tester?” I asked.

“No, that’s not necessary for you.”

Was that a compliment, or an insult?

//Need you ask?//

‘Hey, I have bioengineered muscles, too!’

//Which makes you average for an elf//

And twice as strong as I used to be, but that’s not saying a whole lot. I’ll take average.

Vitor disappeared through a door set between two of his forges. So he did keep some stock on hand, he just didn’t feel the need to display his wares. If it hadn’t before, the shop screamed of a discerning clientèle.

He came back, carrying a trio of weapons which he set on the counter. There was what I thought was called a truncheon, looking like a miniature baseball bat made of wood reinforced with metal. Next to it was a long-handled horseman’s hammer—I knew that from the History Channel. It always surprised me how small the hammerhead was, the fantasy and Anime visuals stuck in my mind, both of which would take a behemoth to wield in real life.

The last choice was calling to me. It was an all-metal construction, the overall length just shy of two feet. The head looked to be about three inches around, with flanged ridges. I was in love. I picked it up, testing the weight; heavy enough to hurt, not too heavy to swing.

“Perfect.”

Vitor smiled knowingly. He was like one of those chefs, the ones who only had to look at you and then make you the perfect dish for your mood. There were no used car salesman genes in the smith’s makeup.

“The only thing left is the payment.” Vitor was all business.

“Yeah, about that,” I said. “Would you take a down payment in the form of some [heat] scrolls for your forge?” I pulled one out from my ever-present satchel that I’d taken to carrying.

Vitor took the proffered scroll, inspecting it. “Hmm, no. Common quality is of no use to me.”

Crap.

“OK, sure. How about if I can make you a custom scroll?”

He thought about this, clearly curious.

“Depends.”

“What would work for you?” He was on the hook, now I had to reel him in.

“[Heat; major; superior] scrolls are what I’m currently using. Can you do that?”

Uh, no way in hell, not at my current skill. Master Alric could make them, of course, so I might be able to acquire them from him for a discount. The cost would still be high. What else could I offer? Something I could make myself?

“What about a heat [barrier]?

“Now that is a solid idea, Book,” Tak said, taking the reins in her sales persona. “Just think of it, Vitor. You have high-end customers, correct?”

“Mostly.”

“The first thing that struck us on entering was the wave of heat, it was almost physical.”

“It is a smithy,” Vitor said it slowly, like he was talking to some simpletons.

“Of course, but that’s what makes it so perfect, don’t you see?”

Vitor scrunched his brow at her, not convinced she wasn’t simple. “No, I do not.”

“That is the brilliance! No one walks into a smithy and suspects a cooling breeze, so it will leave a mark on your customers, which will travel by word of mouth.”

“I turn down more commission than I take, Miss. I don’t need advertising, every wannabe adventurer hounding me for custom work.” He hit ‘wannabe’ hard this time, causing me to wince. Tak, however, was unruffled.

“Oh sure, I understand. We had to have a referral and an appointment.”

“We?” asked Tess. “What is this ‘we’?”

Tak ignored her, smooth and on a roll. “Only a select few pass the muster, the kind who know other esteemed individuals needing your skills. And who would they usually brag to? Those a tier higher than themselves, who they want to get in good with.”

Those car salesman genes from earlier? I think Tak found them. Only, instead of used cars, she was pimping high-end, luxury models.

Judging by the new look of respect Vitor was displaying, she may have hit the mark.

“Lessen the ambient heat, and instead of errand boys gracing your shop, you’ll see the ones with the power to send them. Book will even throw in a fresh scent, your choice.”

Wait, what? I will? I had no clue how to do that!

//Have faith//

‘Why do you only support me on things I can’t do?’

//Isn’t that when you need it?//

‘Well, sure. But, still…’

“Uh, yeah,” I stumbled on the words. “Sure can do. Any scent in particular?” What was that cringe movie line? ‘Your mouth is writing checks your body can’t pay.’

“Prairie roses.”

“Come again?” Did I hear that right?

“They are my daughter’s favorite.”

‘Ah, that makes more sense’. I sent that thought forcefully to the Queen of sarcasm residing in my head.

//Dude! Gender stereotypes//

‘Whatever.’

//Bite me//

‘Good to have you back, my friend.’

“Do you have a sample?” I asked the big elf. A lot of elves seemed to be bigger than me, didn’t they? Sigh, I guess I was still average.

The women looked at me like I was an idiot, but Vitor nodded and popped into his back room for a second time. Reappearing, he held a fresh bouquet of purple roses. I assumed the color was real, not like the ‘blue’ roses I was familiar with. My mom had loved those, despite the obvious dye jobs. Dad had a tattoo of a long-stemmed one on his forearm, complete with bloody thorns. Mom had been feisty.

“I will still need some money down, however. I can’t do the work on a promise, alone.”

“Certainly,” Tak sounded awfully confident with money that we didn’t have. “How is fifty gold?”

Gulp! Tess had let us know she had thirty gold to put up front, but this was almost double that.

//That is some quick math//

‘Shut it! I’ll have to put my mace back, my lovely, lovely, mace!’

Tess reached for her coin purse, and much to my surprise, so did Tak. The redhead calmly placed twenty gold down next to Tess’s own small pile, while I tried to simultaneously ogle and drool. I had never even seen that much gold, all in one place.

“Very good. I will get started on the custom work, and you can take the little mace with you today.”

“Um, about that Vitor…” I didn’t want to leave ‘Rosie’ behind—yes, I named it—but what else could I do?

Tak turned to me, and mouthed one word. ‘Friends.’

“Thank you, Vitor. You can send word to Team Brawn when everything is ready—ask for Kolin—and we will come by with your scrolls. Who knows, after seeing what they have to offer, you might be giving us some of that gold back.”

“We’ll see, Miss. We will see... Have a good day.” The weapon smith dismissed us, ruefully shaking his head.

We left the shop then, me carrying a “whole lotta Rosie” in one hand and a clutch of purple, prairie roses in the other.