Malkus takes a moment to think. While coming back to the tavern would be the easiest, he doesn't imagine that shopping would take all day so there was another place they could meet. "When you're finished shopping, meet me at the arena. You can't miss it. It's the large stadium near the city gates, plastered with crossed swords over a red shield. There you can train a bit with your new weapons, even bring in your horse." Taking your sword, Malkus stands up and draws it, getting a better look at it. He doesn't say anything as he puts it away.

"As for your equipment, the market should be open now. Plenty of fletchers and tanners. I recommend shopping with a merchant named Yurt the Bower. His shop caters to hunters, so I'm sure you can find decent, affordable equipment from him. He does trade in too so you could sell your old bow if needed." After securing your sword to his own belt, Malkus heads out to get it worked on. Some more folks entered to eat their morning meals, get a drink, or were coming in to rest in their rooms after a night shift.

The woman nodded to Malkus, gathered her things, and made a mental note of where to meet later on. As the two parted ways, Amelia could feel her nerves tingling. She was beginning to second guess if this was the right choice. She had just escaped a slaver, barely managed to take out her attacker last night, and was not volunteering to help find someone who was taken by bandits.

"You're an idiot," she muttered to herself as she replayed everything in the last 24 hours in her head. But, there was no going back it seemed. And the family matter tugged at her a little. She wondered if her own would even recognize her, or if they were still even alive after all these years. At least she would be doing something of worth, right?

She found the market, managing to keep to herself and steer clear of anyone so as not to bring trouble to herself. She was still wary, and knew by now Kallum, her latest master, would have noticed the absence of many by now. Whether or not he felt they were valuable enough to go look for, she was unsure of. And if so, getting on the road again sooner rather than later would be ideal. After asking a few travel worn looking people, she found her way to the merchant Yurt and entered the shop. It was quiet still, which made her presence well known as she entered.

"M-morning," she said, giving a small nod as she nervously approached a little more, still keeping distance.

Yurt's shop was fairly large, as far as a shop goes. Entering his building you can see various barrels with simple staves, some of them which you can identify as unstrung bow staves. Nicer, intricately carved bow staves hung on racks along the wall. There were also barrels of arrows alongside empty quivers, and hanging on simple cross stands were sets of leather armor. Most of them were just leather breastplates: Light, flexible, and cheap. Some sets however had more intricate protection, like shoulder gauards, gauntlets, tassels, even boots. Those were expensive. Finally behind the counter in a glass case was an arrangement of fine hunting knives. Both ornate yet practical, though based off the sign underneath them, very expensive. Yurt himself was a dark haired but fair skinned man, with a rough bread wearing some simple clothes and an apron. He was sitting behind a counter, fletching arrows with a little girl. Both were human. Yurt says something to the little girl in a language you don't quite understand: it must be the native Vaegir language. She smiles and continues working while he stands up and looks to you.

"Welcome to my shop! I am Yurt the Bower. Are you looking for a light bow perhaps? Easy on the draw, simple to string. I just made a few yesterday. If you're looking for something cheaper, I have a few short bows in the barrel there." The way Yurt spoke to you, he assumed that you were a novice with a bow. And considering how long you've been enslaved, you really haven't had any proper practice for quite some time. The bows on display were fairly expensive, most of them between 75-200 Denarius. The ones from the barrels were cheaper, between 10-30 Denarius. The arrows were 5 Denarius for a bundle of 20, though you'd need to buy a quiver for them, which were 7 Denarius each.

Amelia glanced about as she entered the shop, taken away by some of the more intricate looking weapons that hung off the walls or properly placed upon shelves. Always moving, she never had much of a need for items that weren't practical, and she rarely had time to make a bow herself that looked nice. Everything she had was plain, simple, but functional. Nearing the counter, she glanced at the little girl helping the man and smiled softly before turning her attention to Yurt.

"Ah.. Yes," she began, nervously picking at the hem of her shirt. "Acquaintance of mine recommended you, so here I am," she added. Pausing, she looked around once again. She didn't have a lot to spare in regards to money, and she had a few things she needed to get. "I... I do have a few things for trade, maybe, if you are interested that is." With that said, she placed three throwing knives on the counter. They were well made and balanced, and looked in pretty good shape. They were plain, nothing on them stood out much, their hilts wrapped in a dark stained leather.

She knew they probably wouldn't fetch a whole lot, but even a little was helpful at this point and throwing knives were not in her set of skills so they were just taking up precious space needed for something else. "But, I do need a bow, a quiver and two bundles of arrows," she said as she walked over to the barrel and looked over the goods stored there. She picked up a few, testing them and running her hands over them. After the fourth one, she nodded and took it from the barrel, and grabbed a quiver and brought them over.

Yurt picked up the knives, testing their balance and sharpness. He had a keen eye for detail and could tell these were functional, though not particularly fancy. More for hobby use than for hunting or war. "Hmm... I'll give you 6 denarius for all three." As you went to get a bow and quiver, Yurt gathered a few bundles of arrows for you. Nothing fancy: basic iron tips, light but sharp.

The difficult part would be getting a good enough bow. The cheapest ones you wouldn't even want to use for hunting: they lacked the strength to put any meaningful force behind the arrow, and we're best left for training. You would find a good one for 20 denarius: it was a full bow, not quite as big as a proper longbow but certainly better than your current shortbow. Took a bit longer to draw but the range and power you can put behind it would be well worth the cost.

"Let's see, with all that, including trading these knives, will cost you 30 denarius. Anything else I can get for you?"

Amelia stood at the counter and tapped the short bow she had grabbed, her lips turning down at the corner of her mouth a little before she shook her head. "On second thought, do you have a different bow? Not a long bow, but maybe something in between? I just need something good for hunting if I am going to be out on the road again," she said, feeling a little foolish for a moment.

Then again it had been so long since she had freedom to choose anything, it was easy to mix things up. "Also, how much for one of your plain leather breast plates there?" She knew it wouldn't provide much protection, but it would be better than nothing. "If I can afford one I would like one as well... Then I think that would be all for me," she added with a nervous smile.

"Certainly. Sounds like you would like a full bow. I think I have one suitable for you." Yurt went to the back of his shop and brought out a fairly nice looking bow. It was a darken brown, with a white rawhide string. There were etchings in the wood that not only looked ornamental, but also served a different purpose: they helped the bow flex for the draw without compromising too much for it's durability. "Been holding onto this for a few months now. Client brought one for his daughter, but I haven't seen them since the commission, nor have I received my payment. So I'm willing to sell this to you just to get rid of it. As for leather breastplate, hmm... I don't normally sell armor for women, so I don't have any. However, I do believe I have some for younger men. It ought to be roughly the same fit. That will be an extra 25 denarius."

The young woman's eyes seemed to brighten a little at the sight of the bow Yurt produced. While she might not have the know how of making bows herself, she knew a well made one when she saw it. "That is quite the lovely bow," she said in admiration. "I'll take it and the breast plate," she replied, fishing out the coin for the payments of the goods. She would have to thank Bagai again when they met, and hopefully under better circumstances and perhaps reunion of his brother.

Paying for everything, Amelia tried on the breast plate she was given. It fit well enough to give her the protection she needed, it wasn't perfect but it would have to do. Surely getting some made to fit her would cost more than she had and take too long. Thankful, she gave Yurt another thanks for his help and left the shop. Tying down her quiver as she walked, she started to keep an eye out for where she needed to go to meet Malkus. It took a little bit to get her bearings of the city, but with the help of a stranger she was able to make her way to the arena.

Upon entering, she felt out of place. Those around her seemed much more seasoned and experienced, and here she was. This fragile looking thing, eyes wide with both wonder and fear. Despite the hardships she had endured all these years of slavery, there was one bright spot in the darkness and that was seeing the new places she might not have seen before. Like this stadium, for one. "Now, where would he be," she wondered quietly to herself as she began looking around in hopes to find Malkus.

As Amelia looked around, she wouldn't see many orcs. Most of the folks were human, with the occasional elf. She would be the only woman there, with a few of the men training giving her lurid looks. The ones training here seemed to be skilled archers, with many archery targets set up for practice. Some close, up to 30 feet, and even a few long, up to 100 feet. Amelia would even notice some archers shooting into the sky. Upon closer inspection, she would spot that someone was launching clay targets hundreds of feet into the air, and those same archers were deftly shooting down these clay birds with remarkable ease. Aside from archers, there were a few men sparring with staves, and some using wooden swords and shields.

"Hoi. There you are." Malkus finds Amelia a little while later. He hands her a sword that looks notably different from the one she had given him. Amelia may even be familiar with it: it's very similar to Khergit cavalry swords, being a long curved blades designed for slashing at foes from horse-back. It was even well-balanced to be light despite it's length, no more unwieldy than her previous sword. "Got your sword. You ought to get familiar with it, since I made some alterations. I see you got a new bow too, so we may as well give that a go too. Which do you want to practice with first?"

Amelia was feeling a little uneasy, seeing such skill surrounding her. She used to be able to perform these acts without a second thought so long ago. But now? She only hoped she could even draw back the string on her bow to shoot at anything, let alone whoever they may fight against on their little rescue mission. Avoiding the gazes of the others, she turned to finding Malkus again. Though a stranger still to her, at least she would have one person she knew.

Thankfully he found her not too long after her arrival. She was beginning to think he left her to wander and look like an idiot. While she showed no outward excitement upon seeing him, she did feel a small splash of relief wash over. Taking the sword, she held it and stared, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Back home, she would have wielded one of these herself, and so did many others. Shaking thoughts of home from her head, she looked up to Malkus, then back out to the archers, then back again.

"Thank you, for the sword. I feel more comfortable with this in my hands," she said softly, taking it and sliding it to the belt. "But, I suppose I am far more out of practice with a bow than anything," she started, taking a few deep breaths before finding an unoccupied target to start at. "It has been far too long since I have shot anything," she added with a nervous laugh as she tried to knock the arrow with shaking hands.

She felt so nervous, and she could feel the hot tears threatening from frustration as she tried finding her position, lifting the bow and keeping the arrow in place. After some mumbled words, and feeling confident enough, she let loose the arrow and watched as it flew through the air, then dropped and skidded across the ground a few feet before coming to a stop just past the target.

Hearing a few snickers from onlookers, she looked to the ground and grit her teeth, shoulders visibly shaking at this point. "I-I'm sorry," she muttered, before hastily grabbing another arrow and trying again.

Malkus didn't even bother glancing at the men jeering at Amelia. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of recognition. Instead Malkus focused on Amelia. "Focus on your target. Don't pay attention to anything else but your target. Once you let loose an arrow, disregard it and be ready to fire the next one. Malkus was all too familiar with how they would insilt him when he failed to live up to expectations. Most of the men here may have already dismissed Amelia by virtue of being a woman, but no doubt they are also being notably annoying to try and get a rise out of Malkus as well. But the orcs attention was focused on a more important task.

As she readied herself once more, she heard Malkus speaking. There was a comfort in him not joining the others in making fun of her or even holding back laughter. It hurt less, she supposed, being so frustrated with herself. But she had to forgive herself, even a little, right? With how long she had been held captive and used for nothing more than person pleasures, she had forgotten what she was capable of.

Amelia nodded slowly, closing her eyes for a moment and focusing on the bow and arrow in her hands. She shifted her feet, feeling the ground beneath her to steady her stance. After a moment, she let loose once more and watched the arrow fly through the air again. This time it didn't skid to the ground, but found purchase in the target. Was it a bullseye? Far from it, but she had hit it this time and it felt like a big improvement. She only let the satisfaction of hitting it take over for a few seconds before another arrow was slotted and aimed.

Once again, she focused ahead of her at the target and let the next few arrows fly. None were perfect hits by any means, but she at least accomplished in hitting the target. After several arrows were poking out, she let her arms fall to her side with a small wince. Her muscles were not used to such repetitive motion, or use of them in general. She finally dared to look at Malkus and let out a long sigh. "I know I am probably not who you want to be stuck with on this trip, but I promise you won't need to worry over me. I- I can do this."

"You are aware of your weakness, which is better than most I've worked with. Cocky sellswords who believe themselves the next black swordsmen, ingloriously cut down by average bandits. Trust your ability but know your limits. Now then, let's go get your saddled up." By now most of the menfolk have already left the two, given that neither were giving them much attention, though a pair did call out to Amelia to offer lessons in tugging their bowstrings. Whether this was a genuine invitation for training or more, would be up to Amelia to pursue. Malkus just continues to ignore them.

Reaching bear the outskirts of the city, the duo would find a stables. "How much do you have saved up? I realize a hundred Denarius won't be enough for a horse, so I'll lend you some money, but the more you have the better horse we can afford. You won't be any use hunting those birgands on foot, or if you're riding a mule."

Amelia ignored the others, giving it nothing more than a shake of her head as they called out to her. She had heard so many lines over the years, and even more amazed when people fell for them. Feeling a knot form in her stomach, she swallowed hard to fight off the sick feeling she was getting. Not from her current health, just the flood of memories that hit her for a moment.

She followed in silence with Malkus to the stables, glad they would be riding, and that she knew how to do. At least one thing she wouldn't make a fool of herself with. When asked how much money she had left, she calculated the numbers in her head real quick. "I've got about 70 left I can put towards a horse. I don't have or need much, I figured we could hunt on the road if we needed, and I still have a few rations myself from when I got here."