Waynack

Harmstead

Harmstead was vastly smaller than the previous bucket list location of Camelot, it felt similar to a small town where travelers stuck out like a sore thumb. It had the usual things a small village like a town would have, local eateries, a blacksmith, a pub, and even a political office that stood tall next to the local housing area.

"We finally made it." Pierre exhaled as if this was the final step on their journey.

William's sharp sense of smell easily gravitated toward the smell of local homemade food, it doesn't get any better than that, "Wow, that smells great!" William was quite the character, with everything that he's never experienced easily grabbing his attention, "Wow! They even have a blacksmith!"

Pierre added into William's remarks as if he's never been here before, only to look forward to a place he's been to plenty, a local pub, "Wow, they have that too!—I'll be right back! Let's just meet back here in 15!"

They quickly split up without an ounce of regret in their bones, William heading straight for the blacksmith, and Pierre for old reliable. "Woah! These swords are awesome!" William shouted, curiosity drove his legs to the blacksmith's doorstep.

The inside was covered in weaponry of champions, not that this town had experienced the clouds before, but still, blades for protection was necessary. Swords stood tall and hung against the darkened walls, charred stone was the canvas of these walls. The blacksmith paused his responsibility, the heat emitted from the glowing sword in its birth, the sight was beautiful for any who had respect for the craft. As long as the money was left before the customer's departure, size nor age mattered none to a talented blacksmith.  "Hello there son, what can I get ya?" 

The blacksmith handed his respect to any potential customer, valuing the fair trade of his occupation. His hands were covered in soot, and his clothes too, along with smears on his cheeks that stuck out more than his beard. He was hefty, but that was average for blacksmiths.

One sword, in particular, caught the eye of young William, a red mantle with a green crystal embedded, it appeared to be the most exotic of the bunch. "How much is that?"

The blacksmith was not surprised by the child's inquiry, only the ones who knew nothing of craftsmanship went after the most alluring items, an experienced eye would steer clear of the pyrotechnics before combat. "Hmph—That one there is at least 6500 loons."

A slight upcharge on the sword, but William knew no better, nor did the value matter much to a man with empty pockets. "Lemme see what I have—" William digs in his pockets that are steep as if he were borrowing into the ground like a mole. He pulls out 7 loons and a piece of lint. "Well—um—what can I get for this?"

"Bwahahahaha!!" A hearty chuckle escaped from the blacksmith's beard, "You could get that stool you're sittin' on for that!" The stool was darkened from the head and accompanied a short leg with a bite mark and battle scars. This stool looks like it has been through hell. It was one more bite away from a wooden floor mat.

"Hmmm—" William paused, in contemplation for the purchase, but merely took one second to confirm the trade, "I'll take it!" 

William gladly began walking away with the stool in his right hand smiling and in the background, the Blacksmith laughing hysterically at the fact that someone was foolish enough to give him money for a broken stool. William's day only just began, but this would be an afterthought to the events to come. A shout in the distance, just loud enough to grab the attention of the young dragon master, whose eyes moved to the yelling just ahead.

Another shout was released, this time, more distinct than the last, "Give me back my father!!" 

William drew closer to the interaction, finally seeing who was the source of the commotion, it was a young orc protesting in front of two knights that were guarding the political building that distanced itself from the other homes beneath it. A brown sigil with a stallion's head imprinted the cold steel protecting the watchmen.