Theory let his fingers be woven together by the dancing flames, they licked his white sleeves as they passed over every digit of his thick-skinned hands. He imagined that his wrist guards would become molten and fall to the ground in a puddle. Such dangers did not scare him though. Fear was not something Theory allowed to cloud his mind.

It was too early in the morning for the sun to rise and the sea air was bitter cold rolling across his tanned skin. He very rarely summoned up such flames, but on this day he had been unable to find a torch. Whipping his hands free of warmth, the magical flames vanished as he reached his dusty shop door and pushed his key into the contrasting shiny lock.

Business as usual.

Jag

---

Slowly setting the glass of water down he looks around the place. It wasn't much. He stabs his utensil into the meat, taking a bite of his food. 'I think it's about time I start making myself my own place in this world.' He thought as he chewed his food. 'I want to rule a country, my own. I can't do it on my own.' Jag always had a plan to do something. Get more money, get power, rule, pillage. Right now, his most ambitious goal was to rule his own country. It would take a while to set up the foundation. He needs his own people that he can trust fully. He didn't even know it was possible.

He takes another bite of his food, finishing his plate. He washes the last of it down with his water. Standing up, he says, "Thanks for the food." The bartender nods his head, "No problem. Come back anytime." He said politely as Jag left the tavern. He walks into the city streets looking around. 'Where to start...' He thought.

In spite of the chill morning's hours before dawn, activity was afoot, or at least upon closer inspection it had been for some time.

A man, passing for but a humble commoner down on his luck, sat upon a cool stone porch across from a row of shops with but a single gold piece running between his fingers. It's metallic form moved in a manner that suggested thought, or at least the illusion of it, as it drifted between each digit and back again with a fair amount of dexterity. In spite of the coolness and humidity of the morning, he showed no ill effects for how little he wore, not so much huddled or bound up like most.

Taking note of those about as they started on their days, spurred by the faint purple of oncoming dawn not terribly far off, he eyed them with a sense of curiosity and watchfulness. One of whom, understandably, caught his attention in that he projected a flame from a hand and snapped it away with a clever motion of the wrist to no ill effect.

Twisting his wrist as he had for many years, the door released a soft breath as the lock was undone and the handle turned. Pressing his hand to the old heavy door, Theory pushed it open and brought a foot inside followed by the other. Safely inside he hastily snapped the door shut again, chasing the cold from the room with a brisk scowl.

Letting his eyes peer over the tops and cupboards he found everything in its place. Satisfied in this respect, though still the cold agitated him, he smiled faintly at the comfortable normality before him. With another performance-like flick of his wrists the prancing flames once more engulfed his now curled and fisted hands. Extending his arms toward the deep fireplace on the back wall of his establishment, Theory released a spout of fire into the unused logs he had set the night before.

The hearth was ablaze and all was as it should be. "Bravo." He said aloud and proud to himself, "Bravo.".

Ducking behind the counter, Theory pulled the loose end of a silk string that was hooked to a rusty nail by his right. Suddenly the huge door sprung open and the writing of the familiar sign that hung outside his shop reading " Theory's Assortium " was liquid metal and burnt fiercely for all to see.

The sun was making its rise above the horizon, though Aiana had been awake long before it, preparing herself for the day. Now, as the ball of fire began to warm the cool morning if only slightly, she hummed to herself as she loaded refined ores into a bag by the outdoor forge. Though it was her business, she had workers who did most of the blacksmith work for her. She was more of a manager now that things had taken off. However, she always wanted to keep busy.

One of the best things about her business' location was that most of the main equipment was used outside. Inside the shop, she sold common ores, weapons, armor, and other blacksmith tools. Outside was where the armor, weapon, and tool making happened. So as she worked, she was able to hum quietly to herself and watch people pass by, occasionally nodding to her as they did so.

The stoking of flames and furnaces within the shops and their fronts began to fill the air with light soot as the gentle breeze drawn from the sea failed to push them far; as they grew warmer further the ash proved to billow up until the smoke no longer was depositing its larger pieces upon the solid, albeit earthy paths of the streets.

A dwarven woman hauled a sizable amount of refined ores into a reinforced bag, while the man with hand aflame from earlier, disappeared within what could be reasoned to be his shop. The dawning activity all the while spurred the lonely man to further thought, wherein he held the coin before him, examining its uneven surface. It was, for someone as poor as a lowly caste, a fair sum, as most only had a few silver and copper to their name in coin at any time, but that was not his reason for staring.

Of all things, it was what to do with the humble pressed piece. It was not something he was accustomed to, in any sense, and worse yet, it reminded him the great lengths mortal men would go to even have but one. But the question still remained... what to even do with it?

Drawing his green gaze up, he awaited the storefront owners to open in their entirety, which was undoubtedly soon with dawn so close now.

Drunq

Drunq stumbled over the flat and yet steep ground before him, a vague memory of bosoms and much drinking rising and falling from his mind as the tide ebbed at the key side.

It was time for work and focus. Something caught Drunq's attention. A strange stone lay upon the floor, shining blue and then yellow in his hand as he picked it up.

To onlookers Drunq was a shambles, he couldn't walk straight for the dwarven blood in him and his eyes were blurred and blinking excitedly. The stone he thought to have picked up was in fact a corn chip like treat that an old lady had thrown down for the birds.

Drunq tossed the stone aside as, with his warrior might, he had crushed it beneath his fingers. The faint smell of corn and lard lingered around him. He walked toward the shop front, nodding to those he passed and granting the occasionally greetings mixed with abrupt hiccuping.

It was the most enjoyable thing, Seki thought, to watch the town awaken. He walked the streets, the click-klack-click-klack the wooden discs decorating his arms announcing his presence long before it was seen. He had just come ashore from a long sea voyage aboard The Throttled Noah, a grand ship now resupplying at the dock. It had been a simple arrangement: labor in exchange for passage off the Zukane Archipelago. It wasn't the first such arrangement Seki had made, but he nonetheless always found himself grateful when good solid earth was once again under his feet.

It wasn't long before he came to a small market square. Stopping to think for a moment he reached into his bag and pulled out a small bag of rise. He tossed it in the air a few times, weighing it, before sighing. His provisions were getting fairly low. There was surly a job he could find here that would let him buy a little more food. Being on a holy mission was all very well and good but what would happen to his charges should a starve to death in a ditch somewhere.

He walked past the blacksmiths shop, waving a cheery hello to the dwarf already hard at work, exchanging nods with the dwarf who stumbled past as though he were still at sea, before finding a cozy little space on the wall. He leaned his staff against it and pressed his back against the cool stone. Across from him a man sat on a porch, looking pensively at the shops. Seki gave him a slight bow.

Coming from out of the forest, marching down the pathway which would lead to a nearby town, a certain orc with a pissed and aggravated look on his face, looked to be on a mission and had business with this town....

A few days ago, Grukk was involved with a man named Salamel, one that Grukk now considered to be a fat, selfish, pathetic, slimy, cowardly, fool. Grukk recently just started traveling and after his first experience of putting his fighting skills to use by volunteering to help a young woman avenge her family of a wanted murderer and being paid with an all-you-can-eat meal, Grukk considered getting into the sword for hire business. A small event allowed Salamel and Grukk to enter into a partnership which Grukk learned bit by bit of Salamel's nature from the petty slave tasks he ordered the orc to do. Being treated poorly of not being fed enough nor being paid, what really pushed Grukk over the edge was the set up that Salamel caused by having Grukk go toe to toe with an entire band of notorious thieves that Salamel wanted to steal from, nearly getting Grukk killed and having an ending result of Salamel being burned to death by those same bandit, allowing Grukk to get away.

Hungry and with a damaged blade, Grukk heavy-stepped his way towards this town as the sun was coming up. Even though new to the sword for hire business, Grukk learned his lesson from the experience he had with Salamel. Now, he demanded payment first if anyone was to hire him and to speak of his terms of service so to not have to relive the humiliation he endured before.

As the intimidating 6'9 tall Orc walked into the city, the first place he wanted to find was the blacksmith shop. Only by finding that place first, he could have some work done to his sword but...there was a bit of a problem...he had no money but that would be something he will have to try and sort out.

Hands on her hips, Aiana inspected the other dwarves and humans scurrying about, performing tasks for her. It made her feel very accomplished and proud. Yes, she nodded, these are my family.

She wanted her family to grow. This thought almost saddened her, but she didn't let it go noticed on her exterior. Quickly, she slid into the blacksmith building and rummaged around behind the front counter. She pulled out a "Need Workers" sign and flyer, sticking the flyer on the inside of the shop's window, and then sticking the sign out in front of the forge.

@xxrhoo

Shortly after coming into the town, walking the streets, watching people go about their business and yet catching a few stare towards the big guy, Grukk stopped to smell the roasting of a boar a few shops down. No...Grukk told himself. He had no money...if he were to eat, he'd have to hunt like old times to get a meal. he already told himself that he needed to find a black smith. glancing to his left and his right, he caught the sight of fabric shops and places that sold livestock. He already noticed the tavern and a few inns. Hell...it would be better just to ask someone but his pride of not letting anyone know he was lost, caused him to continued to search alone.

After traveling through more of the streets and back alleys, Grukk nearly gave up out of frustration until catching what appeared to be a red-haired dwarf putting up a sign on the window. Now, Grukk did not pay attention to the sign but what he saw pass that sign in the window which looked to be weapons. Curiously, he walked his way casually towards the shop so to get close up and confirm if this was the place he needed to be. His face pressed against the glass as he looked in to check what was all inside.

@xxrhoo

Jag

---

After a minute of looking around he sees a blacksmith shop. He look at his sheathed sword, moving his hands towards it, unsheathing it slightly. It was somewhat damaged, and the quality it was made with could be better. He looked back up and saw a woman coming outside with a sign. He sheathed the sword and started going towards her. An orc passed through his line of sight, entering the shop.

As he made his presence approaching her, he gave a slight nod saying, "Hey, so my sword is damaged. Do you have any materials that are strong like mithril? Perhaps something even stronger than that? I'd even be okay with fetching some of the materials somewhere, if it's actually worth the journey."

_{OOC - @Shade Maybe we could set up a quest or something for this material for my character. @King TaiMaybe the orc would wanna join? Just suggesting ideas.}

At last satisfied with the activity of the town at the break of dawn, certain not to be so early as the approach could be taken as offensive, the man arose to his feet, coin grasped firmly in palm.

The decision had been made in plain, in that it was simple and unimaginative to most; something of value and longevity, but did not perish or dull. What good were things if they were to come and go so quickly? Walking before the wooden fronts of the many stores, he quietly neared the warmth that permeated the area beside the town's blacksmith. Men and dwarves working, they did not pay heed to the lone man with the long tawny hair; too busy striking steel to be bothered by an onlooker who surely could not buy anything.

Pushing open the thick door of the shop, he noted the dwarven woman from earlier - the one who had set out a sign before the front, alongside the one in the window; calls to men in need of work they were.

Stepping before examples of the finer work in the shop, things of which not a single gold could buy, the man examined them briefly in his brown, earth toned rags and worn belt of leather; perhaps the second most valuable thing on his person. He came to a stop, pausing before a set of unrefined silver ores. With a strange sense of expertise, he seemed to work through the stones, selecting one of which was not on display. As it were, it was a mixture of dull and shine in this state, both metallic and flat grey.

Almost with a knowing, the man paused, turning about to witness the face of a man - an orc, more specifically - placed against the dull glass; silver ore in one hand, a lone gold coin in another as he looked unto the onlooker in return, whose eyes wandered the place's various works.

@xxrhoo@King Tai

Seki spotted the little dwarven woman coming out of the shop, read the sign she carried in her hands, and looked down at his arms. "You do not have to do these things for me," he said lovingly to the little discs, "But thank you all the same." He grabbed up his staff and made his way over.

The slight moment he took to thank divine providence may have been a mistake, however, as it seemed every person on the street had chosen this moment to make their way to the shop. Were they all looking for a job? No, at least the man speaking to the woman was a customer.

He walked up behind this man and waited patiently. He didn't know if he had any skills that would be useful to the blacksmith, but there was no point in making a poor impression by interrupting her while she was with a customer.

It was immediately after setting up the sign beside the forge that Aiana scurried back into the shop. As she began combing through the mess behind the front counter, but soon forgot what she was looking for when she glanced up and saw the terrifying face of an orc (@King Tai) pressed against the glass of her shop. Startled, she flinched and gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. A nervous laugh was squeaked out of her, and she made a small wave toward the orc.

Aiana straightened herself up when what looked like a customer (@ZayZe) focused on a mission walked through the door. She stepped up onto the raised platform so that she seemed to appear the man's height as she stood behind the counter. Placing her hands on the surface of the counter, she folded her fingers over one another and listened as the man spoke, eyeing another man who'd just walked through the door in dull garments (@The Harbinger of Ferocity).

"Well, you're in search of something..." she drew out the word and pressed a finger to her lips in thought, noting the man who'd approached behind her customer (@Gentlemanvaultboy). Finally, her face lit up, "Adamantite!"

A dwarven man with a grumpy, sunken face walked through the door, and as soon as he did, Aiana said, "Freddie! Do we have any adamantite? Refined or unrefined?"

The man grumbled under his breath, turning on his heel and walking out. Aiana smiled at her customer as she waited, lightly tapping her fingers across the counter. When the dwarf returned, he said, "Fresh out."

"Is that so?" she sighed, looking solemnly at her customer. "I know we have mithril, which is the hardest material we've got right now, since we don't have adamantite. Adamantite is the most expensive, but also the best in quality. Mithril barely matches up, but on the bright side, it is cheaper." She smiled widely at him again, "What do you say?"

@xxrhoo

Jag

---

"Sadly, I don't have much to spend." He frowned a little. "How much would a mithril sword be? I would want one with good craft. Maybe I was hasty in my decision.." He puts his hand to his chin, scratching it, "All I've got is 34 gold." He unsheathed his sword showing her damage to the sword, "Once I get money, and find the right materials, then I could come back and you could make me a legendary weapon." He said trying to make new plans for the future.

'If I get a good weapon, then I would have a better chance at what I want to do.' He thought. He looked around at the other customers, seeing what they were doing.

@ZayZe@The Harbinger of Ferocity@xxrhoo

Taking a moment to look around while his face was still pressed by the window, startling the dwarf he saw before, Grukk, withdrew his face from the window when he noticed there were two others, one baring a sword and the other in dull garments who walked in around the time he came forth to check the insides from outside like a window shopper.

Seeing the various material and the two fellows, one speaking to the dwarf about his weapon and the other checking the ores, who at the moment, scanned the room, seeing Grukk standing there. Well, since this was the place and he's been noticed, Grukk quietly walked through the door while watching two men at the counter, though...one of them was one he did not pay attention to until now.

The big fella looked over at the man who was digging through the ores and then back at the counter when he heard one of the customers mention that he may not have enough to pay for the sword but if needed to, he'd work to get it. Now...from that, Grukk needed to see how that plan would work for the blacksmith dwarf since he's pretty much on the broke-ass bandwagon too. If there was a way for him to make some quick money, he was all for it as long as the coin making was good. paying attention to how this played out depended on if he was going to have to leave or possibly make a bargain.

As the dawn broke across the town of Skaraw, the bustling around the Blacksmiths did not go unnoticed by those that would see Aiana's business fail. Not a stone throw away from her lively shop window and seemingly endless customers, Cario Seis the dark elf blade smith sat upon his trade wagon. It was a brightly coloured but worn thing, bright reds and piercing blues mixed with the wealthy shades of both gold and silver.

Cario had been selling his wares on the sea front from many a year, and this no good dwarf bitch was ruining his life. He had no care for the race at all, fat and bothersome bunch. Aiana though, he despised the most. Truly and honestly, it was green envy mixed with jealousy that filled his blue blooded veins, though he would never admit it to a living soul. Sitting there on top of his wagon, he whipped the leather lengths that sat in his hands and his trusty pull horse Bronte started forward.

On this day his wagon was less weighty than usual, for no weapons nor equipment was contained inside. Instead, three hirelings with blade and strength lurked within. All of his money was slowly draining and he would be damned if he was going to let it drain into the gutter of that foul wench! He drove on up to the Blacksmiths front and let his wagon meagrely conceal the shop.

The three hirelings, dress in dark grey with cowls around their faces, jumped from the back and plunged into the nearby alley, the back entrance to Aiana's smithy was the target here - easy access.

Keyla strolled through the bustling marketplace of the village centre. Many citizens of the village were wandering from merchant to merchant examining their wares before moving forward to the next in hope of seeking a fair price on various trinkets and fruits. The young female archer observed the sun rising over the village, taking in the radiance she once awoke to huddled on the bedraggled ground.

Politely nodding toward passing citizens and merchants Keyla repositioned her bow and quiver of arrows and continued onward toward her destination. Despite her mother's necklace, Keyla's bow was her prized position, crafted a faraway village known for it's fine weaponry it was yet to fail her. Keyla stopped at a certain merchant's cart surveying the various brightly fruits each with an aroma sweet enough to make one's mouth water.