A Scholar, a Pirate, and The Bastard Son of The King Walk into A Tavern...

Chapter 3

Viktor sighed as he stared down at Marie's wide collection of broken, battered, and beaten weapons. He was certain that they had lasted for quite some time, and would continue to be used, but the lack of care for these treasures was honestly an insult to him.

Now, you may be wondering why Viktor is looking at Marie's weapons. Well, Viktor has very graciously offered the two a visit to the castle (it would've been rude to up and leave after all they'd been through), and naturally, they accepted.

Well, that was what Viktor assumed. In reality, Jean had made a strangled noise of shock, while Marie made a strange hand gesture and shrugged. Of course, knowing that they were going to visit King Pavel's castle, Viktor had to make sure there weren't any suspicious or odd objects on their person. It wouldn't do for his new allies (god forbid he use the dreaded word...f-friends...) be arrested before they even got five steps into the palace.

And so Marie had then produced four knives, a sword, and, oddly enough, an axe. Don't ask me how she managed to hide all of those on her person. I don't get it either.

Upon seeing the sorry state of these weapons, Viktor was quick to make a detour to the blacksmith's. Well, there were several blacksmiths in Iri, but more specifically, Sviel, a location known as the Smiths' City. It was a brief ten minutes away from Jean's residence, which was quite convenient.

And so the trio headed off the Smiths' City. Where they would soon spend nearly four hours watching as Viktor harshly reviewed each weapon Marie even glanced at.

The first shop they entered was immediately deemed unproper by Viktor. ("The weapons here would be better for scrap metal.")

The second one they went into didn't go any better. (Jean winced as Viktor brought the smith there to near tears.)

And on and on they went, until finally, Viktor stopped at an older forge. It was considerably smaller than the ones they had initially seen upon walking into the city. Marie and Jean were already prepared for another ten minutes of Viktor's sharp tongue.

However, much to their surprise, Viktor observed one of the swords on display and nodded in approval. As he looked around the forge, he was easily able to see that all the items here were of excellent quality. Even the nails and horseshoes, which where often created thoughtlessly and thus flawed.

"Of all the smiths we visited..it's only this one's beat-up place that gets your approval? You have some strange logic, kid," Marie commented, crossing her arms.

"It is as many often say-one should not judge a book by its cover," Was the only response Viktor offered. "Although I find it odd that there have been few purchases here. Many of these items are covered in a layer of dust."

The clanging from another room finally ceased as the blacksmith working seemed to finally realize there were people waiting for them. A man with an unearthly appearance emerged from the room, wearing an apron and gloves. However, the most notable part of his appearance was his white hair, covered by a leather skullcap. Upon further inspection, Viktor noted that the man also had golden eyes, albeit paler than the abundance of gold in his father's treasury.

Viktor now understood why this place was not frequently visited. The blacksmith working here was of fae blood. Of course this man had hardly any customers-the fae were considered to be sly, untrustworthy schemers, after all. Looking back at his companions, he deduced that they had figured this out as well.

"What can I get for you?" The man said gruffly, looking as though he were ready for them to yell something racist and leave.

That, unfortunately, seemed to have happened often, Viktor noted.

Viktor looked up at the abnormally tall man, who looked right down back at him. He smiled.

"I'd like some new weapons for my acquaintance here. Hers are certainly in working shape, although their current state is horrendous," Viktor requested.

The blacksmith raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting an actual request. What a shame, indeed, that this kingdom still could not look past blood.

"Alright. You looking for something specific?" The fae smith asked.

Marie answered, this time, "I would like some throwing knives, and a sword would be great, too."

The blacksmith nodded, "I can do that. The best ones are in the back, though, and they're a bit pricy. I assure you, I'm not going to scam you. I can promise you that they of are good quality."

Again, it was an insult to Viktor's honor that one of his father's citizens-and by default, one of his-even had to confirm such trivial things.

"Then please bring them here," Viktor asked politely.

Jean gave Viktor a surprised look.

...I hope they don't really think I'm incapable of having proper etiquette...

The smith nodded and went to the back. A few minutes later, he returned, carrying an assortment of weaponry. As Viktor had expected, all were of even greater quality than the ones on display. Marie looked through the weapons before picking up a set of intricately designed knives and a simple, yet elegant, sword.

"That will cost about six gold. Or sixty silver, if you'd prefer," The golden-eyed blacksmith said, appearing tense, as though expecting them to suddenly change their minds.

Viktor opened up his bag of coins and placed seven gold on the counter.

"...You're paying a gold too much," The smith said.

"It's fine. My father won't miss a single gold coin missing from the treasury, and it certainly wouldn't lighten my pouch," Viktor waved him off.

"But-"

"Please. Or if I word it this way...I demand that you accept this gift from the son of King Pavel," Viktor would not relent.

The man sighed and accepted the coin, apparently not very phased by Viktor's declaration of being the son of the king. Perhaps this fae wasn't one to be shocked easily, not unsimilar to Viktor himself.

As Jean and Marie passed through the door, Viktor paused and turned to the man, "I never did get your name."

"...My name is Farren."

"Well then, Smith Farren, I assure you that this will not be the last time we meet."

And with those parting words, Viktor strode out the door and followed after his companions.