The orcish man, pulling himself through the heavy wooden door of the dwarf's shop, seemed a bit wary of the world about him; not the sort of caution, but the sort of uncertainty. There was a clear purpose to him, yet it seemed as though it was not settled upon as to how to carry out that purpose. His attention seemed to shift when the other man, an elf with an exceptional build, went on about a mithril blade - going so far as to mention an item of legendary prospect.

It was to this the commoner smiled almost knowingly.

A truly magic weapon required a powerful arcanist at the very least, others too could suffice but they were a rarer thing; holy men typically only bestowed the blessing of their gods upon weapons crafted with a religious significance to exceptional members of their faith. Even minor arcanists could bestow an enchantment, but what this elven man made mention of was... simply no merely glinting blade that never wore.

Toying with the hefty silver ore in his palm, the commoner appeared to judge the stone as if he himself were familiar to the art. After all, a dwarf worth his weight in the ore could tell you which of the finest yield sat within this pile just by examining its more subtle features. The humble man, but human, seemed to hold a similar judgment - yet he paused in his assessment of the stone, eyes drawn up from its lightly glinting surface.

A sizable wagon of varied and old red and blue, accented with silver and gold, found itself blocking the dawning sun before the blacksmith's. With a faint tilt of his head, the man watched as it gave with subtle motion - someone departing it. This was not what struck him as strange, as what gave that impression was how the wagon was parked and where. It all appeared off... like an ill omen was beset upon them.

As the sun rose overhead James found himself stretching his arms as he scooted himself out of bed to get ready for the day. As James got all dressed he began his preparations for departure as he brought a hefty sum of money with him in his cooking bag with his knife as to not attract burglars to steal it. James was dressed in his usual attire but only wore his chefs hat and apron at the mayor's house. Noticing how his cooking knife was starting to get dull he would get it reforged at the blacksmiths shop. As James paced down the street he noticed a wagon with rich embroidery and three guards heading to the shop he was headed to. James knew something was up as he walked in before the strange guard like people. After entering James noticed quite a few people having money problems but one in particular peaked his interest. @King Tai

James approached the tall orc who seemed run down on his luck. "I would like to hire you as the bodyguard to protect me." As James waited for a response he walked over to the counter and and asked to have his cooking knife sharpened.
@xxrhoo

"I heard you are very good at your work so i personally came to get this sharpened" He said handing the cooking knife to her. "Would 1000 Gold coins be enough to refit my bodyguard with armor and a new weapon?"
"Of course the Knife itself only needs sharpening so i believe 50 gold coins will be enough for that."
James noticed that his spending would not go unnoticed as he guards came ever closer.

As a rather arrogant figure entered her shop and strode right up to the counter, surpassing at least two other customers, Aiana scoffed at him (@TaroMaster4) and said with a rude undertone, "Excuse me, sir, but you're going to have to wait for me to tend to my other customers." She glared down at the knife on the counter and slid it back toward the man.

She turned her attention back to her current customer and said, "I'm afraid the very cheapest I'm willing to go is 40 gold pieces. Adamantite is even more." Putting her hands on her hips, Aiana thought to herself before saying, "You could always go and help out my mining crew to gather some adamantite. It could take up to two days to get all that we'd need, though. But, I could cut down the price. It would normally be 100 gold pieces, but if you helped with gathering the material, I could afford to cut it down to 60."

As the large orc walked through the front door of the shop, she couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy, but told herself that it was wrong of her to feel that way. She sent him a wide smile, silently welcoming him to her shop.

As if suddenly having a revelation, she said to her customer, "It won't be the type of legendary weapon you're thinking of. It will be an amazing work, if I can brag about my skills, but it won't have any magical elements. Unfortunately, I'm not much of a practitioner of magic."

Keyla, turning her mind back to that task at hand, turned toward the blacksmith. Her arrows were in need of new heads. She proceeded onwards, keeping her eyed fixed on a wagon which has positioned itself in the path of her eyesight hiding the blacksmith's store. The young huntress strolled down the cobblestone streets, she was in no need to rush, stopping her \self in front of the wagon.

She noticed, sitting in the front of the wagon, an elf @Shade. He did not appear to be from the village so Keyla flashed a large smile and asked ever-so-politely.

"Excuse me sir, would you be so kind to move your wagon? You see I am in need to enter the store and the sides are currently blocked by other citizens and your horses."

@xxrhoo

Jag

---

He shakes his head, "Damn, maybe I should've came better equipped." He paused for a moment with a look of disappointment, "Well, I don't know if I'll come back or not, but if I come across some money, and if I don't meet a better blacksmith, I'll come back to you and buy something." He wanted good weapons and armor, just for himself, but for his courtiers in the future. When he carves out his own kingdom, he wants all his closest friends to have the best things available to them. His plans for his kingdom was freedom from discrimination from all races. Orcs, Humans, Elves, Dwarfs, we could all live together. Jag had friends in every race and didn't see why he wouldn't be able to make this dream a reality.

Obviously he had a ways to go, but he wasn't gonna let that slow him down. "Thanks for your excellent service ma'am." He smiled and left the counter, letting a man @TaroMaster4 take his spot.

@King Tai He saw the Orc, still wanting to say something to him. A guy just asked the Orc if he wanted to be his bodyguard. Jag had a similar idea, so he didn't know if he should approach or not. Without thinking much Jag casually strolled over to the orc. Jag was 210lb of pure muscle, and the orc still made him feel small. He knew he could hold his own, but the fact that he questions the orcs power is enough to want him by his side. Looking at the orc with a slight smile, but with caution, he says, "Would you like to come talk to me, when you have some free time?" He paused for a moment trying to figure out what the orc wanted to do, "I don't really have gold, but I do have goals and ambitions, and I'd like you to be a part of that."

A plain room with no decoration to speak of adorning its walls housed a small and simple bed. On it, in a pile of crumpled sheets lie our Addylyn. Tossing, she rolled from one side to another, the sheet sliding off of her frame and tumbling to the floor. A groan of disappointment escaped her lips as the cold bite of morning crawled over her skin.

Begrudgingly, she rolled out of bed, stretching out the aches in her muscles. In slow motion, she pulled on her clothing, the dark blue colors contrasting with her pale, fair skin. Gingerly, she ran her fingers through her dark hair, groaning from the few but complicated tangles she had to work through. She strode across the room and glanced out of the tall pane window, peeking down into the marketplace below. And as she watched, she hoped with all her might that today would be the day.

The day she could leave this life behind.

The Refinery and Forges

Behind the shop front and counter of any blacksmiths is a smoking land of fire and hammer, anvil and bucket. In such a land things were dim - the clanking, crashing and battering of future merchandise filled the air and mixed with the metallic aroma that hung there. Aiana's was a humble land, not small or large but the perfect size for everything to run efficiently.

Her workers numbered five, all strong and experienced at their jobs. Her three forge workers were all Dwarven, being short and strong respectively, they were able turn even the dullest blade into a capable edge with great detail in design and structure. Then there was the muscle, a large orc named Oprik and an equally large but slightly fatter human by the name Xence. It was Xence that worked the forges, shoveling the raw materials day in and day out, without him their would be no refined ores to work with.

The Orc Oprik was a lifter and carrier. He moved the shipments from the mines in the mountains inside for Xence to sort through and shifted any heavy goods that came his way. It was, unfortunately, he who was the first the three would be assassins came across. They had made their way over the iron fence that stood firmly between the alley way and the delivery area behind the smithy, and were now approaching the unsuspecting Orc.

Luckily for him Oprik was a swift worker and turned, iron ore filled sack in hand, to see their blades brandished. Instinctively he threw the sack forward with all his might onto the closest combatant, the immense weight buckling their comparatively frail body to the stone ground. Just as quickly as this happened he reached to his wide hip and took his Orcish bone mace from its holster.

They were wary to approach his hulking and now armed form, and so two circled one, or perhaps the one circled two, it would be hard to tell for any onlooker - a fluid dance of death. With a growl Oprik crashed his mace on the ground and roared with every ounce of breath he had, sending an almost visible ripple into the air as the deep thump and booming threat sounded over the roofs. He wasn't to fight alone against these cowardly hires.

Craning his thick neck to the door, one pale eye wavering on the grey clad blades, he shouted ferociously back into the smithy smoke hoping for assistance.

"TROUBLE!"

@SouffleGirl123

"Excuse me sir, would you be so kind to move your wagon? You see I am in need to enter the store and the sides are currently blocked by other citizens and your horses."

Cario turned to see this female demanding, admittedly politely, that he move. Too busy to notice much more than her gender, he hopped from his wagon onto the cobbled street and took Bronte by her bridles. "Why of course." the words slipped from his tongue like a snake across a slimy log. He walked Bronte forward a few steps then gave her a pat on her white haired side to let her know to keep going, she knew the streets well enough.

With a nod to the female, he turned to the back of his wagon and peered inside. Searching for a few moments, his hand finally found his own sword in the darkness. Carefully he pulled it from its sheath and held it to the rising sun, it shone then, a bright yellow, a hint of magic about it. He also grasped a large black seed of some kind and pocketed it for later use.

Briskly he closed the creaking door to his wagon and followed the same familiar route his hirelings had taken, if he was not to conceal the gracious act of murder, he would commit the sin himself.

Divine providence was a strange thing.

Though the myriad of small gods Seki served and cared for were weak, nigh powerless, they were nonetheless demanding. Many, in ages long past and forgotten, had been lawgivers. Protectors. Guardians. The things people looking out the entrance to their dwelling in the dark of night, imagining a countless number of evils and dangers, wished for in a god. Their diminished status had not changed this nature, and in times they worked together to meddle. A whisper of an idea here and there, setting up signs that they trusted their devoted follower to interpret correctly. Gently leading him down the path to where he needed to be.

Seki had no idea if that was the case in this instance, but so used was he to this type of meddling that when he heard something such as a scream that contained all the markings of a cry for help he was primed to believe that he had been meant to hear it.

"Please excuse me." He said hastily to the dwarf as he shouldered past the man that had cut him in line and vaulted over the counter and into the back. He spotted the man who must have yelled almost instantly (only an orc could make that much noise) but it took him another moment to realize what was happening. He'd never been in the back of a smithy before, but it surly wasn't that unusual to walk around with weapons? No, no, that wasn't right. From the way they were moving...

It dawned on Seki that the orc was under attack, and in that moment he spun his staff up into one hand and threw it like a javelin at the nearest attacker before taking off at a dead run toward him to follow up with a flying knee.

@TaroMaster4@xxrhoo@ZayZe

While taking a moment to hear out the deal between the built elf and the red haired dwarf, Grukk caught sight of a new young male who came in shortly after, causing him to take his attention off the conversation between the Dwarf and the built elf. With a bit of surprise from the words the boy spoke of wanting to hire him, Grukk simply kept his stern composure looking down at him. He did not answer him at first when he looked back over at the conversation going on at the counter. He caught the part of it where the dwarf was still wanting a hefty price and only willing to go down if one was to bring the material she would need. With the response the built elf gave about making money and possibly returning later to pay, Grukk felt that this would be another stage that he'd have to accomplish but he expected that he'd have to do work, not really looking for manual labor work but possibly a job where protecting or hunting someone down was to be of more benefit and worth the time and energy for.

Grukk motioned himself over to wait until it was his turn since the built elf left the counter and the young man who asked him to be his body guard, headed over requesting for his blade to be sharpened. As the built elf came over to him, it seemed that lightning was trying to strike the same place twice since this was officially the second request of needing his muscle. Now to Grukk, this was a perfect chance to gain a reputation and gain business from word of mouth. He had to think for a moment. The young boy, according to what he said tothe dwarf, must've had plenty of funds to accommodate the warrior orc, but then again, the built elf had ambitions and goals he wanted him to be part of. Seemingly it would be goals that could lead to gaining riches and being taken care of with the necessities.

Grukk already dealt with a despicable human before and Elves were not really a race he was fond of but then again, he did set out to explore the open world and what kind of muscle for hire would he be if he was to say, 'will not work for elves, humans, dwarves and other bastards I do not like...'. his availability would surely be limited. So....as a new sword for hire, originally coming to get his blade treated, he responded to the built elf and the boy who asked for his assistance with a deep hulking but benevolent tone Yes...I will speak to you both outside after I make a bargain with the dwarf for my blade. he simply said looking back at the dwarf wanting to speak to her next until hearing a familiar cry out which obviously was an orc in pain. Grukk turned his head looking towards the back wondering what's happening.

@Gentlemanvaultboy

Combat Post - Loading Area. 2v2, 1 NPC hired blade dead or unconscious. 2 of the same active. Seki & Oprik opposing.

Oprik bore his sharp teeth and growled wildly as he stepped over his own trained feet, keep a steady gaze on both of the presumed men, although the garment flattered no cause to think more of one gender than the other. This stand still had been held for the best part of a minute and he was getting impatient, the floods of adrenaline were bashing against the stone dams of his sanity and soon he knew he would see red if he did not quench this thirst for triumph and blood.

Just as he leaped onto his padded left foot in the beginnings of what would have been a charge, he heard a high pitched whistling that passed his face and struck the slightly taller of the assailants square in the chest, a staff of sorts it seemed. Hindered by this unexpected help on briefly, he carried onward towards the other blade with great bounds and his mace above his head. Instead of striking downwards, Oprik swung his mace wide and came to a halt just before the reach of the hirelings arm, bringing the skull tip along in an arch to rest heavily on the jaw.

With a crack the target fell down to the ground, but it was not the crack of a jaw, rather the crack of his mace as their knife struck at its tip, reducing it to a baton as the head tumbled to the floor. Thus the falling to the ground confused Oprik, who was to late to see the sweeping kick beneath him and fell backwards onto the floor with baton in hand.

As he fell he saw a strangers rock knee connect with the other blades hidden face and they sprawled backwards. Both of the blades now distanced themselves from Oprik and the stranger as footsteps were heard from the alley way behind, someone or something else was coming it seemed.

It was not a war cry, at least not one the lowly man seemed familiar with, but it undoubtedly was a call to alarm for some sort.

The orcish bellow, so loud as it was, spurred the tall robed man across the wooden counter with a surprising amount of dexterous spring; for his size and what he found himself clothed in the motion was fluid and he did not prove to slow even for a moment as he disappeared through the frame and into the back of the dwarven woman's smithy.

There was no doubt in the mind of the man, his palm calmly setting the raw, rough silver ore atop the others in an audible clack, that there was trouble afoot; the mysterious wagon had all but vanished no less, although truthfully having been moved not far. All that had felt off was indeed off, just as instinct and insight suggested - these events were likely related, somehow and for some reason. Whatever it was, it drove the man to approach a situation he seemed ill prepared for.

After all, what good was a ragged unarmed commoner in the fray of armed cutthroats and blades?

Stepping through the threshold, he came to witness a brutish orc - covered in some soot from his place of work - crash to the ground and the head of his formerly fine mace clatter across the stonework floor while the man from earlier recovering from an apparent knee charge. Another two, armed thugs as it seemed, brandished blades and idled at the ready. They, along with the orc and the robed, staff bearing man, noted another approaching from the alleyway beside the blacksmith.

Green glare moving from the defenders to the attackers, the commoner brought up his dusted hands and shifted slightly to the edge of the doorway leading to the shopfront, barring a smooth approach. Initially the gesture, of but a meek man with hands raised as if to fight other armed men, would be laughable, but his positioning and grit to his rising focus seemed unnerving; one hand by his side beginning to move in a roiling manner, digits wavering in air, flexing.

Either the commoner was bluffing magical talent or the commoner was not truly a commoner at all...

@Shade@Gentlemanvaultboy

Seki spied his staff, taking a quick step forward to kick it back up into his hands before brandishing it in a defensive stance. If either of the assailants stepped forward to attack he would bring it down on them. He wanted to help the orc to his feet, but dared not lest the attackers take advantage of his open back.

"I'm here to help." He said to the orc. "Are you injured?"

Combat Post - Loading Area. 3v3, 1 NPC hired blade dead or unconscious. 2 of the same active. Cario has arrived. Seki, Oprik & 'Man' opposing. @The Harbinger of Ferocity@Gentlemanvaultboy

Cario scaled the iron fence with the thick rope left by his hired arms. He landed with a thump on the flat stone of the landing area, extending his knees and stretching up to his full height, he stood in between his two men. Holding his sharp sword by his side, he picked the mace head from the floor and laughed, tossing it back to the steeped feet of the Orc who was sprawled on the floor.

"A crude Orcish weapon."

Cario, contrasting his personality and pale skin, was dress in a bright almost jester like uniform of scales. Crimson, sea blue, rich gold and snappy silver covered his body. His thick and long white hair softly touched his shoulders. With his black eyes he stared at those opposite him, frowning he thrust his sword forward and looked left and right to the men either side of him.

"Go on then."

The two men started forward, one of them throwing a Galatia ( two sided knife) at the latest addition to the opposite side, the weak looking man seemed an easy target. Then they both converged on the group, with a blade in each hand now, glinting in the morning sun. It seems their leader was a rallying point, these men are bolstered with confidence.

The footfall heard before had at last found its way to the stalled fray in the form of a pale elf - a man no less with a dark glint of ill, malevolent intent in his eye. Letting out a hearty cackle, he tossed aside the broken mace head where it slid to the felled orc who steadied himself despite the bloody fury calling from within the destroy these thugs. With a clink to the pale elf's step and motion from the vibrant color of his chain shirt, he brandished a blade of which held a faint yellowed glint; magic, beyond a doubt.

Pointing forth the sword with a menace, he spurred the men to attack, which they did.

"You had your chance to walk away." The man muttered as he flexed his gesturing hand, pulling back in footwork as the whirl of a thrown blade cut across and through the side of his shoulder; crimson welled from the glancing blow, of which was deep enough that it was sure to leave a scar.

In one fluid motion as his rebuke, the man with but a single gold to his unspoken name cast his hand out while the red ran down that same limb.

The place between the elf and the two thugs left suddenly found itself not so empty as the air shuddered with an unnatural stir and a savage growl. A roiling mist billowed into existence for a moment and as it settled in that same time - a being of pure magic melded into form and became tangible. A fierce set of eyes belonging to a jungle cat set themselves upon Cario and lunged from below his blade, razor claws freed and calling for his flesh.

Having divided the conflict up, separating the men from their leader in the way of furious leopard, the thugs found themselves caught between their enemies. It was either to take up arms against the orc and robed man, or the cat - the interloper beside the door preparing another spell.

The spectral cat, whatever it was, did not seem to be an enemy. Emboldened by this assistance Seki took a step forward, placing himself between the attackers and the prone orc even as he lashed out with his staff. He brought it sweeping down in a Z motion between them, aiming for the right one head, the left ones wrist, and then the right ones ankle. A Concussion, a disarm, a broken ankle, he aimed for all of these things.

Keyla entered the blacksmith's workshop to hear yells and clashes from the back. Squeezing through the crowd awaiting for the blacksmith and jumping over the counter. Standing at the doorway to the back and slipping in to see a fight had broke out among the people. Unsure of what to do the young archer slowly pulled an arrow from her quiver, observing the conflict. She scanned the room noting the man whom had earlier had his wagon in her path. Her eyes soon met the side of the room where lay an injured orc before reaching to men attacking the armed crowd.

Trying not to attract attention to herself, Keyla slipped bow off her shoulder and nocked the arrow she had earlier retrieved from her quill. She raised her arm, aimed toward one of the attackers and set the arrow free. The arrow whizzed through the air with great accuracy.

@King Tai

Jag

---

"Sure, I'll wait along side you." Jag said waiting patiently. He wasn't really in a rush. Soon after he heard the starting of a fight, then what seemed to fully escalate into a fight. He was thankful he wasn't a part of it this time. He was busy doing other things. Jag's mind was focused on the future, not some street brawl.

@xxrhoo
Noticing the rude treatment he was given James glanced back over his shoulder to see others waiting in line.
"Oh! I'm sorry I didn't see them! I guess I was too caught up in my own thoughts about what to make for dinner tonight!"

@ZayZe
Looking at the man who was in front of him now as James now felt bad for what he had done.
"Would you like for me to pay for your sword? It is the least I can do for cutting in line without noticing!"

@King Tai
James also noticed that the man Jag was looking for a bodyguard as well in the Orc Grukk.
"We could form a team that was we don't have to argue about it."

All of a sudden a fight broke outside of the store. James wanted to help but also knew he probably couldn't do much with just white magic. So he stood back and watched.