Suran wrangled back something that almost slipped his mind – again. “How much money do you have, Natalya?" Considering how problematic money seemed to be, this should have been something he asked a long time ago.
She pulled out a bulging coin purse, loosened the draw strings, and dug her fingers into the bag, sorting through the coins. She only sifted through it for a few moments before stopping, shrugging her shoulders and answering, “Dunno, maybe 11 or 12?”
“11 or 12 gold?” Suran asked surprised, raising one eyebrow.
She nodded with a sour face, “Would have gotten more too if the house and land weren’t all messed up when I sold it.” Natalya crossed her arms and pouted.
“Are you fine using your money for the expedition.”
She shrugged again, “There’s nothing else I need to spend it on. If you need to use my money, go ahead.”
“Great,” Suran said, nodding his head. Natalya had a large sum of money, maybe enough to fund the expedition – or at least get close. There was one way to find out, Suran thought. “Let’s go to the market. See what we might need. Gauge the costs.” There was no disagreement, so Suran led the way towards the markets. The only thing sorely missing was pen and paper; budgeting and planning was a task better left to parchment. He could do without it, albeit annoyingly.
Seeing the streets sparsely filled was an odd sight in the densely populated city. Ever since the night on the docks, the city had been quieter; there was less of a hum on the streets as a pervasive unease hung overhead. The events of the morning seemed to have exacerbated the issue. Suran made note of all this as he entered the market.
“Where do we start first,” Suran wondered aloud. He browsed through the foodstuffs which stood at the front of the market. Most food options were just a few copper. Bread, for instance, was 5 copper a loaf. Singular fruits and vegetables were just a copper or two with bundles and bunches priced accordingly. “What do you think Natalya?” Suran asked, deferring to the resident expert.
“I could figure something out,” she mused as she perused the fruit stands, “but I’ll need to know how hearty and nutritious you want the meals as well as the travel details. How much we eat and what we eat will depend on where we’re going and how long it will take.”
Suran scratched his head. “For meals quality, we should try to avoid barebones meals as well as gratuitous ones.”
“So, you want just normal meals?”
“…Yes,” Suran said after a moment, making sure that is what he meant. “I don’t remember where or how far the place the old man mentioned was.”
A voice mumbled, “Eastern Nosirion.” Iylia gave the answer with no confidence. Despite her lack of faith and her answer, Suran thought it to be correct since it did jog his memory.
Natalya nodded her head and said, “I can work with that. If I remember right, place is pretty far. Would be best to just set aside coin for a month’s worth of food. We will have to buy supplies as we go along since stuff goes bad.”
“How much do you think we should budget?”
She scrunched up her face and crossed her arms, “I can make a decent meal for about 35 copper. So 35 copper per person for maybe two meals a day for however many days.”
Suran did the math and said “28 silver per person.”
“How did you do that so fast?” Natalya asked, perplexed.
“Math isn’t that bad,” he explained, “35 per meal twice a day is 70 and then over 40 days is 2,800 copper. 100 copper is one silver so it becomes 28 silver per person.”
Natalya squinted her eyes, hard in thought. Finally, she said, “Math sucks.”
“We can just keep adding 28 to our budget for each person there is. I’ll leave the exact details of the food to you. For now, let’s move on.” Suran debated between general equipment and travel arrangements. He quickly settled on transportation; they weren’t going anywhere without a means to travel.
It took some walking to get where they needed to be. Animals and the sorts take up space, so they were relegated to the corners of the marketplace. Cows, chickens, sheep, all familiar faces among the animals. The same could not be said for the sleek and narrow bird-like creatures, the bulbous and stout four-legged animal with tusks, the critter that looked like an oversized rat without a tail, and the other queer creatures that were displayed.
Suran spotted a horse vendor – someone who dealt in the familiar – and went to him. He explained his situation and his needs, and, in turn, the vendor explained his options. As expected, the tusked animal and the rats, crofs and glabers respectively, were not travel animals. Crofs were kept primarily for their tough hide while glabers were a sort of scavenger that kept fields and pens clean, with their meat having high nutritional value.
On the other hand, the mean looking bird vroelia was a widely used means of transportation. The flightless bird was valued for its quick feet and vast reserves of stamina. Of the conventional travel animals, vroelias were the swiftest, able to outpace and outrun anything else. He briefly paused his explanation to chastise Natalya for playing with the horses. The merchant turned back to Suran with a sly smile and explained their downside: poor strength. Loading them up with cargo or having them pull wagons of supplies was a difficult job for the bird; their swift and nimble body did not lend itself well to raw strength.
Suran started perusing through the stock of horses. There were two other animals mentioned, but neither held Suran’s interest; one was for the tundra and snow while the other was for the mountains and desert. Horses would do fine, he thought, as vroelia seemed to fit fast and light travel. At any rate, anything he got would eat a chunk out of his budget. Horses went anywhere from one and a half to two and a half gold, depending on breed, size, and quality. He made note of the prices in his mind, thanked the merchant, and went on his way.
Wagons was next on his list. After leaving the horse merchant, he took a brisk walk to the wagons and carts – conveniently placed beside the animal vendors. While there were many different wood types and qualities as well as build styles, a moderately large wagon of decent quality with a cover would cost around one gold.
Last was equipment. He only had a sword – no telling of its quality either. Mortimer mentioned how the site he picked out was more dangerous than usual. Armor and protection was a must. In its own subdivision in the market, the armorers and smithies were lined away from everything else. They could hear the striking of steel and puffing of fumes as they walked down the cobblestone streets. People were still scarce on the streets, but it felt as if some life breathed through these roads.
“Which one do we go to?” Suran asked. There were far too many forges and they all looked virtually the same.
“Uuuuh,” Natalya droned out, “What about that guy we meet at the Circle?” Her question was directed at Iylia. Suran furrowed his brow and let out a ‘hmm’. She turned to Suran and said, “At Alexander’s Circle, Iylia got to help out a couple of people. One of them said he was a smith.
“Think we can find him?”
Natalya scratched her chin, “Maybe. I think he told Iylia his name and stuff so she probably knows better than me.”
“Can you take us to him?” Suran asked Iylia. She tensed up, but then nodded reluctantly. Iylia walked and led the group around, surveying each building. She refused to any anyone for directions, content identifying each building by the signage. It was outside a simple building that hung a simple green placard she stopped. The sign read ‘Green Forge’.
“Is this it?” Suran motioned towards the building.
Iylia looked at the sign again and said, “I- I think so…”
Suran shrugged. Even if it wasn’t the place, he would need to start shopping around eventually. The door was closed and the windows shuttered, so he knocked to an`nounce his presence before entering. It was dark and empty in the front of the store, only weapons and armors populating the floor. Suran threw out a, “Hello,” trying to see if anyone was in.
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He heard the slow stomping of boots and a gruff voiced called out, “Who’s there? We’re closed.” A burly bald man sporting a red beard hobbled out of the back. Wrapped in bandages, he carefully walked, crutch in hand. “Come back another day, week, maybe month-” he stopped to see who came in and his eyes widened. A grin grew on his face and exclaimed, “Why, if it isn’t the lass from earlier!” A full-bodied laugh resonated from the large body and shook the room. “Who’s that lad?” He said, nodding his head at Suran.
Natalya, without missing a beat, replied, “He’s Iylia’s owner.” Suran flinched at the phrase; he still couldn’t shake the unease from the arrangement.
“So that’s how it is,” The man said, stroking his thick beard. He stretched out a hand toward Suran, “Name’s Ulfric Bjornsted and this is my workshop.
“I am Suran.” He shook hands with the man – his grip a little too strong for his liking.
“That lass of yours did a real service fo’ me earlier!” Ulfric limped his out from behind a counter and showcased his injuries. His entire left leg was wrapped in gauze, with many other smaller bandages and wrappings covering his body. “If it weren’t for her, might ‘ave lost a leg – or worse!”
Iylia shied away from the conversation and said, “I d-didn’t do much…”
Ulfric roared again. “Stopped some bleeding was all you did, but was enough to get me to a doctor! So tell me, what can the smith of the Green Forge do for ya? A round of drinks or a sharp blade?”
Suran motioned to answer, but was interrupted by a holler from the back, “Who’re you talking to Ulfric? I thought I told you to say in bed!”
“Just some friends dear, don’t worry about it.” Ulfric sighed and rolled his eyes. In a whisper he said, “That’s ma’ wife Darcy. Means well. Most of the time.”
“Did you say something?” Darcy yelled out again, causing Ulfric to jump in place. “I don’ care who it is up there, friend or customer. Send them out this instance!”
“But, Darcy! It’s someone important!”
A little lady stormed out from the back, “Who could be so important?” Her poufy, curly red hair was bouncing as she walked up to them.
“Darcy, they’re the folks that gave me a hand this mornin’.”
Darcy turned from a hostile housewife to a loving lady instantly. “Why didn’ you say so earlier?” She turned to the group, “I owe you thanks for helping out this meathead of mine. Do what you need to do, but don’t keep him long – the doctor ordered bed rest, after all.” Suran nodded his head and Darcy flew away, saying she had some housekeeping to do.
Ulfric patiently waited for his wife to scurry away before letting out a sigh of relief. With his free hand, he scratched his beard and asked, “What can I do ya for? Since you helped me out, I’ll make sure to do ya right.”
“We were planning an expedition to some ruins,” Suran answered. “For that, I needed some armor and equipment.”
“That, I can do!” Ulfric said with a hearty laugh. “Only for you or for the lass as well?” He nodded at Iylia.
“Only for me since Iylia won’t fight; I will be the only one doing any fighting, if necessary.”
Ulfric scrunched up his face, “Sure about that? Ruins and dungeons aren’t for me – I keep to the forge – but even I know a one-man vanguard would be unwise.”
“I was already considering hiring a sellsword,” Suran replied, waving off the concern.
“Fair enough,” he grunted, “But I’m sure that lass of yours could pull some weight if you wanted.”
Suran frowned. “What do you mean?”
Of all people, it was Iylia who answered in her quiet voice, “I was t-taught to use swords and bows.” Ulfric shrugged as if to say ‘that’s what I meant’.
“I see,” Suran said. “However, I won’t ask you to fight.” He turned to Ulfric, “Anyways, all I will need is some armor.”
A grin grew on Ulfric’s face like a kid that was asked to bring out all his toys. “Come with me and let’s see what we can fix you with. Do you want a full set or just pieces? Do you want it light or heavy? What about quality? Materials?”
“Ulfric, what did I say?” Piercing through the house was the shrill of Darcy.
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “As much as I’d love to go through everything with ya, my loving wife won’t seem to have any of it today. I’ll have to ask you to come another day so we can do this the right way.”
“That’s fine. We were only gauging prices anyways to make a budget.”
“Great! Come by in a few days and, depending on your needs, I can get you set with some great quality works at a fair price, a gold or two at most.” Ulfric hobbled behind the counter for a moment, “There’s one thing I can do for ya now though.” From underneath the counter, he pulled out two large wooden instruments in the shape of a sword and threw them at Suran. He was caught off guard, but he managed to secure both of the objects. “Them be some practicing blades. Give one to the lass and have a go. Can’t hurt to get some practice in for anything that comes up during your journey.”
“I will put them to use,” Suran said. He propped them up on the wall, “That reminds me, I have a sword but I don’t know its quality. Can you take a look?”
“Sure I can! Bring me the blade and I’ll see what I can tell ya.”
Suran walked up the counter, unsheathed his sword, and placed it in front of Ulfric.
Ulfric whistled as he examined the sword. “What a beaut’ of a sword this is. Shame it’s in such a dingy scabbard. Mind if I hold it?” Suran gave him the go ahead. Gingerly, the behemoth of a man picked up the sword and began measuring its qualities. “Let me to this in the back,” he proposed, “I’ve got some tools there I can use to compare it to my other works.”
“That’s fine,” Suran said.
Still marveling over the craftsmanship of the blade, Ulfric took it into the back. They waited patiently outside for the man to do his work. It was several minutes before he hobbled out, noticeably exhausted. Placing the blade back in front of Suran, he inched in close to Suran and whispered, “I don’t know where you got this nor am I going to ask. It’s peculiar, to say the least. That is, if the black coloring and the red gem weren’t enough of a giveaway. I tested it against all the materials and metals I have, and this surpasses anything I have – maybe anything I’ve ever had. And the craftsmanship is… impossibly good. Not a single flaw I could find, and I’ve seen countless blade in the last 30 years to know even the smallest of ‘em. Take good care of this blade and keep it out of wandering eyes, lad.”
“What do you think makes this blade good,” Suran asked, his curiosity not sated.
Ulfric shrugged, “Could be the material. I honestly don’t know what it’s made of. Or could be some magic enhancement. I know nothing of that magic stuff so I can’t say for sure.”
“Is magic enhancement common?”
“Not really. It is a difficult process that, I heard, ends in failure more often than not. As far as I know, blades imbued with magic can be extremely powerful.”
Suran thanked Ulfric and took back his blade. He still wasn’t satisfied; he felt Ulfric’s analysis left him with more questions than he started with. It certainly was a peculiar blade of high quality, but knowing only that was not enough for him. There was something about the sword that was unsettling. It was shrouded in darkness and the unknown. He needed to learn its secrets, but he felt the more he tried, the further the darkness spread. He feared what could lie in the dark.