A New Weapon for Robin

[Robin]

[ModNote: Continued from He shoots... he scores!....]

*In his usual garb, but with an idea in his head, Robin strolls back into the Marketplace.*

Last time I was here, I got knocked over...

*He glances around.*

Okay, no thieves to impede my searching... now where are those weapons stalls?

[OOC: This is probably Robin's last post for a while, as I (Pooka) will be away for a week. Be back soon!]

[Young Grimwold]

*Business has been slow today for Trusty Seldam. Despite a varied stock, he is struggling to establish the same trading presence that his father enjoyed.* [OOC: We've had Suh Wok, son of Ah; and Oliver Scaramonger, son of Julius; guess whose offspring Trusty Seldam is. ]

Trusty: Somnia Rings, ladies and gentlemen! Just the job if you can't get a decent night's kip. A guaranteed forty winks for five gold pieces. that's... that's nine winks a piece!

*No takers. Then Trusty spots a new customer glancing around the marketplace. His clothes look new, so he must have a fair bit of cash. Better try and reel him in before anyone else goes fishing.*

Trusty: Sir! Yes you, you with the discerning taste! Step this way, Sir! If you need it, I've got it.

*Not bad, Seldam, not bad. Now the real test begins.*

[Robin]

*Robin realises he is being hailed. He trots over.*

Hello, my good sir. You seem... honest.

*A lie. But a quick one.*

May I ask if you have something... unusual?

[Young Grimwold]

Trusty: Why, the unusual is my specialty! Not the run-of-the-mill, nor the common-or-garden, nor the bog-standard. For I am no mere miller, nor gardener, nor bog... person!

*You should have stopped after the first sentence, Trusty. Now introduced yourself before you forget.*

Trusty: Trusty Seldam, I am, and at your service.

[Robin]

*Robin leans forward*

I'm lookng for weaponry that hurls arrows. But not one of those traditional longbows. And I already have a sword.

*He fingers his sword's blade.*

I'm looking for a crossbow. A light one, one that's easy to hold. But just a crossbow, that is all. And I will make it worth your while, if you have one.

[Young Grimwold]

Trusty: Worth my while? That's flattering, but payment in silver or gold will be fine.

*That is what he meant. Did you think he... wake up, Trusty! You won't convince anyone at this rate.*

Trusty: ...Wwwwwhich is, I'm sure, what you meant, my good man.

[Robin]

*Robin sighs.*

I'm beginning to regret my choice of trader. But there seems to be nobody else around. Time for tactic number two.

*Robin yawns and looks at the sky.*

Yes, that is what I meant, Mister Delsham. Or, whatever... look, if you don't have a crossbow for me, I might have to get one by Magic Order or something. I am rather busy, you know...

*Robin turns away, in order to get Trusty nervous and willing, but also to conceal his grin.*

[Young Grimwold]

*He's more than a match for you, Trusty. Give the banter a rest and cut to the chase, while there's still a customer left to chase.

Trusty fumbles among the stock, extracts what appears to be a crossbow, and anxiously holds it out to Robin for inspection.*

[Robin]

Bingo.

*The crossbow looks like a very basic version of its kind. Mostly made out of wood, and slightly chipped here and there, but Robin can tell, upon further inspection, that it will work, and it's just what he needs it for, too.*

Hmmm...

*He looks up at the nervous trader.*

He seems like the sort that might regret making a sale, so let's do this quickly.

How much is this?

[Young Grimwold]

Trusty: Well, that depends...

*Trusty has not got a clue.*

Trusty: Now tell me, Sir, if you will: how much did you pay for your last one?

[Robin]

Er... um... uh.

*Robin wasn't expecting that.*

What do I tell him? That my last bow was a hand-made longbow that worked well once, or that it existed god-knows-how long-ago in a previous life? Or do I tell him that I've never bought, let alone used, a crossbow? Or do I make up a figure?

*Numbers run consistently through the hero's head; from four, to a hundred, to seventy-three, to pi and back up to forty-seven...*

Er...

C'mon, Robin, make a decision.

I've never... get a grip, boy!... er, sixty. Sixty Gold Pieces. I bought it from...

*He casts his mind wildly about.*

...Deal. Yeah. Edward Deal.

[Young Grimwold]

*Who's Edward Deal? Should have done some research before you set out on this, Trusty. But he's given you a figure, and you can use that. You need to stall, work out what you're doing. Back to the banter.*

Trusty: Ah yes, old Edward Deal. I met him once or twice. Seemed charming enough, but there was something off-putting about him. Maybe it was the name. A bit contrived, wouldn't you say, Sir? As if he made it up, as if he'd set out to con you out of your hard-earned coins from the start. I, on the other hand, would never seek to beg...beguile a customer with my name. None of this "You can trust me, Sir. 'Trusty' is my middle name!" malarky. Because my middle name isn't Trusty. It's my first name.

*What are you talking about? Is this the so-called selling technique that your father called 'cowpatting'? Oh dear.*

[Robin]

Have you got a price for your crossbow, Trusty?

[Young Grimwold]

*It's a direct question, Trusty. Try, if you can, to give something resembling a direct answer.*

Trusty: Why, of course. As surely as you have payment. But I'm certain an athletic, fighting-fit chap like you appreciates flexibility, and that's what this particular market stall aims to provide. For instance, I'd never expect you to part with more money than Edward Deal took, as I've no doubt that his pricing was less than fair.

[Robin]

Well, here goes, Robin.

*He pulls a moneypouch from his pocket. He knows it contains 70 pieces of gold.*

*But this is all the gold Robin has. For all his valiant efforts, he has never manged to scrape together much. He is content with his life in the forest. Still, this is all the money he has managed to find, make, or 'borrow' since he was brought back to life. Three years... 70 pieces of gold.*

*He forced the words out somehow.*

I have... money... here. So, I'll ask again, Trusty... how much?