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Post by Tom Troughton on Mar 5, 2006 22:30:47 GMT
*Oliver smiled.*
"Good, Good. Now that all the unplesntrys are out the way do come into my shop and tell me what I can do for you."
"If it's wepons you after then you've come to the right place because Oliver Scaramounger is the finest Wepon merchet around, yes indeed. And never let it be said that I didn't lean the fine art of bartering from my dear old dad Julius Scaramounger."
"So Mister......errr, I'm sorry what was your name again??"
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Post by Vyrrian Wren on Mar 5, 2006 23:12:30 GMT
'Wren, Mister Scaramonger. Vyrrian Wren.'
The door opened, and Wren stepped forward. Jim lingered outside - clearly when business was being conducted, he thought it best to stay out of the way.
Wren quickly took in the layout of the place. Everywhere he could see were weapons of vast descriptions, sizes and uses. Swords, daggers, bows, arrows, pikes, clubs, maces, quiet weapons, loud weapons, everything was on display and for sale. His eyes widened in quiet favour. If he didn't restrain himself and think about exactly how much money he carried, it was possible he would go completly mad and walk out with half of the display.
'Well, first of all I need to restock some of my arsenal, starting with daggers. Here, I've got a specific design handy.'
One second later, Wren had in his hand one of his valuable silver pommeled daggers. He spun it around in his fingers and carefully passed it to Scaramonger, handle first.
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Post by Tom Troughton on Mar 5, 2006 23:19:25 GMT
*Oliver study the dagger carefully.*
"Hmmmm. Very nice, very decretive, Very attrative and very deadly."
"I'm not to sure I have the exact dessined but I do have...Now were did I put them, there here some were."
*Oliver ratched about on the selves and in some draws.*
"Ah ha here they are. He brought back a bunch of Daggers all sheved togther there you are Wren have a butchers threw that lot and see if theres any that meet your requirements."
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Post by Vyrrian Wren on Mar 7, 2006 10:46:00 GMT
'Hmm.'
Wren picked up one of the daggers carefully, weighing it face down in the palm of his hand. Disliking the weight of it immediatly, he returned it to it's place on the shelf.
Another one appeared in his hand, and he did the same. This time, he nodded slowly to himself, as though the dagger had passed some kind of test. Turning it up in his hand, he proceeded to spin the dagger on the tip of his finger, seemingly fascinated as it rotated elegantly round and around.
Finally, as if to cement his impression, he tossed the dagger lightly into the air, watching it spin and land in his palm, handle first. He nodded, his evaluation complete.
'Excellent. Light, versatile, and easy to handle. How much for a batch of ten?'
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Post by Tom Troughton on Mar 7, 2006 17:53:25 GMT
"Oh very good choice sir, a very fine weapon that one, and your in luck. Because at this moment in time I have a very, very, very, very spechial offer on for throwing knifes. Only 12 peices of silver for a bulk buy such as this one."
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Post by Vyrrian Wren on Mar 9, 2006 15:35:56 GMT
12 silvers? Wren was no expert when it came to the economy, but he could smell a bargain at twenty paces.
'Now that IS special. Done and done! Now then, what's next... ah yes! I'm told you also do armament upgrades.'
Wren slowly slid his sword from the scabbard mounted on his back, and noted with amusement his young friend and the weapon master's neice taking a careful step back. He turned it sideways into his other hand and handed it over to Scaramonger carefully, as though it were as fragile as an antique vase.
'It's Mordavian Steel, but I'm guessing you recognised that instantly' he said with knowing smile. He had watched the man's eyes light as soon as he clapped sight of the weapon, and he could tell he was itching to take a look at it. Steel of that calibre was hard to come by out in the wilderness, and highly sought after. It also represented his ties with his old Alma Mater - an institution which made the School of Hard Knocks look like the Dunshelm Boys Brigade.
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Post by Tom Troughton on Mar 9, 2006 22:32:08 GMT
"My, My, My. this is a very, very,very,very Nice sword Mr. Wren."
"Errr what upgrades would you like egsactly??"
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Post by Vyrrian Wren on Mar 9, 2006 22:39:11 GMT
'Depends what's going, squire. I do know it doesn't cut armour as well as it used to, unfortunatly there isn't a great number of oppertunities to get it a full service when you're on the road as much as I am. A phosopherous coating wouldn't go amiss either, many times I've been caught at night without a light to guide me.'
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Post by Tom Troughton on Mar 9, 2006 22:42:54 GMT
"Ohhhh very expenciev upgrades thouse. spechialy the Phosophres. Very hard to come by these days you see. What with the local Milita craking down on the sale of dangerous herbs, poweders and other such substances. Very difficult to get hold of."
"Tell you what I could do I could add a ridge I have, it's got dimond in it so its sure to cut threw any armmor."
"I can do you that for say 20 gold coins and that would take a day or 2."
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Post by Vyrrian Wren on Mar 9, 2006 22:52:00 GMT
'That does sound tempting. Unfortunatly, I'm set up with a job all of this week, and I'll need to armed to the teeth. I'll definatly take you up on that when it finishes though, that sounds too good to pass up.'
'Hmm. Seems my home made smoke bombs will have to wait as well' he said to himself out loud.
'Anything else you'd recommend for a Mercenary's arsenal?'
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Post by Tom Troughton on Mar 9, 2006 22:59:02 GMT
"You may be intrested in this nasty little weapon."
*Oliver says going over to a corner and comeing back with a starge looking device, it seems to resemble a cross bow of some sort, But it has a long and wide slit at the end of the barral and no string attached.*
"This is a long range weapon observe!"
*Oliver aims the blade at a target on the far wall then presses the triger. There is a swish of air and the sound of metle embeding into wood. There sticking out from the target is a meduim sized Circuler saw blade, like the ones found in the Corridor Of Blades only much much smaller.*
"What you might call CUTTING edge wepony."
*Oliver jokes.*
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Post by Vyrrian Wren on Mar 9, 2006 23:05:53 GMT
Wren smirked, and was impressed by the performance. He didn't adapt well in the past to ranged weapons, but there were times when a mercenary needed to be versatile. Plus it seemed relativly easy to operate, and not to cumbersome to handle or reload.
'Indeed! How much?'
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Post by Tom Troughton on Mar 9, 2006 23:13:45 GMT
15 gold peices for the wepon and a further 5 for some ammo."
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Post by Vyrrian Wren on Mar 9, 2006 23:21:48 GMT
'Okay... so that comes to 20 gold pieces and 12 silvers for the sawbow and the daggers, right?'
Wren dipped into his cloak and withdraw his recently filled purse. Even with this latest expenditure, that still left him with a pretty respectable sum of cash, certainly enough to keep him happy in food and a roof over his head.
The two walked towards the counter, Oliver arriving behind it with the all too familiar look of the soon-to-be-richer that Vyrrian had seen countless numbers of times wherever he had taken his business.
Carefully, he counted out the right amount from his purse, and slid it over the counter.
'Pleasure doing business, Mister Scaramonger. I'll definatly be back here in the near future.'
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Post by Vyrrian Wren on Mar 13, 2006 18:17:03 GMT
Ten Minutes Later...
The sun shone brightly in the late morning sky, bringing out the saturated colours of the Wolfenden Marketplace. The bartering had begun early, and as midday approached showed no sign of abataing it's maniacal pace.
Wren stepped out of the maze of alleys from whence they entered, trying to hide his fatigue from his young friend. Although he was weighed down with his new purchases, his speedy weavings through the urban maze had not slowed in the slightest, and there were several moments of panic when he thought he might have lost him, only to catch sight of his unwashed form bounding away in the distance. He hoped he would be able to remember the location of the shop - he was sure to make use of its services again.
'Thank you kindly, lad' said Wren, after he was sure the exhausation had slipped from his voice. He flipped a coin at him, who caught it expertly. Wren watched with mirth as his eyes widened.
'Ye've put me in a good mood today, Jim lad. Gold piece this time. Go on, get yaself something nice. You've earned it.'
He didn't need to be told twice. The lad took off faster than a jackrabbit, leaving Wren alone with his purchases.
So... what now?
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