For the Woods' blacksmith business, the day had been uncharacteristically slow. On the normal day for Vera, there would be a steady stream of requests that had her running various tasks for her father and uncle. Whether it was gathering refined ores and other materials from their dwarven partners, making a quick meal, or fetching food ingredients from the nearby market, Vera was always busy with something during the day. However, this day had gone by almost excruciatingly slowly. Though, it did give her a chance to practice using the forge and crudely shaping metal without messing up an order.
By far, Vera's usual steel creations were better and more graciously crafted than the dull and pathetic dagger that was tossed away as trash after what seemed like an eternity trying to create it. For several long moments, she had to hear her father rant and go on about wasted resources, wasted metal, wood, time... For Vera, his words went in one ear and out the other.
Although she often found herself ignoring Draenik's lectures and speeches, Vera was coming to realize that she valued and appreciated her father more each day since the near-death scare they'd had earlier that year. Despite having been fatally ill, Draenik seemed to have recovered remarkably in a short period of time, partially thanks to the sudden burst of healing magic that overcame Vera while grieving over her father on his deathbed.
On this particular evening, as the sun was making its descent below the horizon, leaving the city under a blanket of calm darkness, Vera prepared a rather late meal for Draenik and herself. She couldn't quite recall the exact name of the fish that she found herself chopping into thick chunks, remembering only that this particular fish was one of her father's many favorites.
The meal was certainly no feast. Cooked fish chunks between two thick pieces of bread, however, sufficed a hungry stomach. This was what Vera told herself as her father commented that she definitely did not inherit her mother's cooking abilities.
Laughing, she agreed, "You're right. Mother could have taken this little bit of food and turned it into a spectacular, delicious banquet." Vera enjoyed flexing her vocabulary whenever possible, just to prove to her conversation partner that she wasn't as much of a ditz as everyone thought. "Then again, she was the only one of us who knew about proper spices."
She gave her father a pointed look, and he feigned incredulity. "Well! I could learn about them if I wasn't so business- I mean, busy, with the business. You understand."
Vera smiled at him and began to speak, but the thought in her mind was short-lived as she was interrupted by an intense knocking on the front door. Again, she threw her father a smile, "I'll get it."
When she opened the door, she was a bit surprised to see her neighbor standing in front of her. "Hello," she greeted him. "What's all the fuss about?"