Muffled yells of threats to Alexander can be heard from outside the front of his shop. Between the front of the shop and the counter Alex was polishing were four shelves lined with exotic trinkets and other artifacts that he had come up with. Alex knew most of the trinkets on the shelves were basically worthless, as most didn't even do anything, with the ones that did do something tucked neatly under his counter. Alex was mostly used to being yelled at, held accountable, blamed, slandered, bullied, and so much more. This, to him, was just another day of dealing with people who couldn't think farther than they could see.
A banging sounded out from the front door, to which he stopped polishing the counter and gently reached for the weapon lolling against the wall behind him. The banging rose louder than the yelling and continued to do so to the point that Alex thought the door might cave in. He knew that it wouldn't though, as he had reinforced the door with several sigils of protection. Alex looked over his Spell Rifle, making sure that it was clean and that all of the groves that gilded the sides of the barrel weren't chipped. Suddenly, the banging stopped, along with most of the yelling. Alex glanced to the door, giving it a once over to make sure that it was still fine. To his joy, the door was still holding, but the wall that it was connected to was cracked and splintered and seemingly about to collapse. Alex gave out a large sigh at the sight of him completely forgetting to brace the door frame.
He walked around the counter after laying the rifle back to its original position, with a look of annoyance covering his face. He had just moved to a new town, so of course he would forget something like this. Every time he moves he always forgets one thing or another, either it being something like properly bracing his shop or actually forgetting to pack something. He managed to squeak out a basic refresh spell before the frame collapsed totally, forcing it to creak and crack back into its original position. He looked at all the splintering and dust littering the ground, then proceeded to the workshop in the back of his shop for spare wood planks and a few nails. He always has to fix something when this happens, either it be a busted sigil or shattered piece of glass. Alex never liked this church that much anyway, they were somehow more annoying then the last one.
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Alexander Damascus is a self-made artificer by his standards, as everyone else prefers to call him "A Madman" or "Heretic to the name of the gods' and their standing". Where other artificers would fail, he prevails. His machinery, constructs as he calls them, are built to not only be better than everyone else but also last for as long as he wants them to last. This is why he settled himself as a shop keep instead of a wandering adventurer, to build better things then you need a better work environment. Plus, he doesn't have to deal with the royal tariffs on quests and the like, because fuck taxes. By living in the same building he work in, he can also completely sidestep paying the housing tax in civilized and population dense areas. He recently moved places though; from a lowly town in the middle of nowhere all the way to a place that can't make up its mind on whether or not it's a city or a town.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
The last place he lived in decided to evict him due to safety provocations and harassing the church. To be fair, accidently blowing a hole through the ceiling of the local church on multiple accessions can be seen as a safety provocation. As for the harassment claim? They had it coming since they attempted to fireball his shop. Alex moved to a neat little shop near the center of Freeport, that bipolar place mentioned earlier. It isn't part of the Empire anymore as it had recently sued for state anonymity after being completely left alone for around thirty or so years. As of recently, many large city's or towns have sued for independence or the like with most of them being on the outside of the influence of the capital. A few, like Freeport, Have decided that the Empire was pretty neat but the royalty can't decide on jack-fucking-shit and that maybe they should do some things on their own. Like, say, decide what taxes and regulations should and shouldn't be in place. Freeport has also recently been a big tourist attraction as well as a trade center due to a new tariff policy and a convoluted way of governing. Apparently just asking a few select experts and popular people on what should be worked on allows you to make great strides in infrastructure quality and population healthiness.
Alexander had only moved in a week ago, set up shop three days ago, and had made enemy's with the local religious fanatics on the last day. Apparently, Alexander had gotten in an argument about magic physics with was actually a priest of the church, so things quickly grew sour. Alex and the man both somehow agreed to disagree on such a hot topic and shook hands. Well, the priest wasn't actually prepared to agree to such a thing after all, as he quickly rallied a large group of fanatics at the door of his shop and cried heretic. Luckily the guards are suited to such occasions, as only fifteen guards were needed to tame the crowd of around forty. This doesn't mean everything was over though, as shortly after the event Alex was visited by a guard sergeant and pressed to give reasoning for why such an event even took place at all. Apparently the sergeant had questioned the priest before Alex and had been told that Alexander was being outrageous and violent toward the priest. To the sergeant, Alex was telling a wildly different story of what had actually happened, and because of such a perplexing difference in stories he wasn't allowed any aid in any damages that were caused in the incident.
After getting everything spruced back up, Alex decided to call it a day and headed to the loft in the back of his shop. Tomorrow is a better day, as well as the scheduled opening to his shop, so he might as well catch some rest in the mean time. If he paces himself correctly, he might even get a singular customer by the end of the day!