Post by Umaril on Apr 5, 2007 11:10:20 GMT -5
I have defied my last post too many times!!!!!!
Chapter Seventeen: New Equipment
Angrond woke to the rattling of keys - they were unlocking the gate. A burly looking guard stood in the gateway looking down at the miserable heap that was slowly rising from the dirt floor. He walked out of the cell and into the main room, where a jailor sat snoring on a chair.
"Yer stuff is in this chest, Nord." The gate guard said, pointing to a large wooden box near the desk. Angrond walked over and took all of his gear from it, put it into the backpack and slung that on his back. He pulled his cuirass and greaves over his cell "uniform" and put on his boots.
"Thanks for the accommodation," He said as he pushed the entrance door open "Not many people would let you stay free of charge in a most welcoming manner." Stepping outside, the smell of cooking meat met his nose and his stomach began to rumble.
He strode down the street and walked into a shop named "Dragonscale's Smithy", as he would be needing some new weapons. Entering, the familiar smell of hot metal and smoke burned the inside of his nose. A burly looking Redguard stood behind a wooden counter at the far side of the room, placing a freshly made warhammer on display. The Nord looked at the many other items on the shelves, including bows, maces, swords and hammers. However, one came to his attention quicker than the others - a small, gold-colored dagger on the topmost shelf. He reached forward to examine it but was stopped short by a shout from the Redguard.
"Hoy there! No touching unless your buying! That dagger is a masterpiece, the great arts of magick and weapon-making fused into one - "The Claw of Akatosh!"
"The Claw of Akatosh you say..... why the special name?" Asked Angrond.
"A mage scholar from the Imperial City brought it to me, as a shard of golden metal, he had found it in the fist of Akatosh, in the Temple of the One. It seems that it was the only part of Martin Septim's transformation that hadn't turned to stone. A piece of a god...... don't you realise? That's a relic of Akatosh, I could sell it for any price!"
"Then let me hope that price is low. How much do you ask?"
"500 Gold"
"Fi.... what??!! That sure is lo..... I mean, 'Extremely high', but I reckon I can afford it..." He delved into his backpack and pulled out a sack of coins.
Handing the smith the money, he felt a tinge of sadness that the man was so stupid. He obviously had no idea about how to run a shop, leastways sell a great weapon. He strapped the beautiful scabbard to his belt and slotted the Claw of Akatosh in it's leather-bound home. He admired at how great a smith the Redguard really was, the blade was silver, save a gold-colored shard running along the centre and at the edge. The hilt was of the same gold material, and was inlaid with many precious stones like rubies and sapphires, and a few emeralds scattered here and there.
Angrond purchased a few arrows and a bowstring before leaving the shop, and also left his longsword there to be repaired. He was only a few yards down the street when a green colored hand grabbed his shoulder. He turned around and looked into the eyes of the Dunmer from the tavern...
Chapter Seventeen: New Equipment
Angrond woke to the rattling of keys - they were unlocking the gate. A burly looking guard stood in the gateway looking down at the miserable heap that was slowly rising from the dirt floor. He walked out of the cell and into the main room, where a jailor sat snoring on a chair.
"Yer stuff is in this chest, Nord." The gate guard said, pointing to a large wooden box near the desk. Angrond walked over and took all of his gear from it, put it into the backpack and slung that on his back. He pulled his cuirass and greaves over his cell "uniform" and put on his boots.
"Thanks for the accommodation," He said as he pushed the entrance door open "Not many people would let you stay free of charge in a most welcoming manner." Stepping outside, the smell of cooking meat met his nose and his stomach began to rumble.
He strode down the street and walked into a shop named "Dragonscale's Smithy", as he would be needing some new weapons. Entering, the familiar smell of hot metal and smoke burned the inside of his nose. A burly looking Redguard stood behind a wooden counter at the far side of the room, placing a freshly made warhammer on display. The Nord looked at the many other items on the shelves, including bows, maces, swords and hammers. However, one came to his attention quicker than the others - a small, gold-colored dagger on the topmost shelf. He reached forward to examine it but was stopped short by a shout from the Redguard.
"Hoy there! No touching unless your buying! That dagger is a masterpiece, the great arts of magick and weapon-making fused into one - "The Claw of Akatosh!"
"The Claw of Akatosh you say..... why the special name?" Asked Angrond.
"A mage scholar from the Imperial City brought it to me, as a shard of golden metal, he had found it in the fist of Akatosh, in the Temple of the One. It seems that it was the only part of Martin Septim's transformation that hadn't turned to stone. A piece of a god...... don't you realise? That's a relic of Akatosh, I could sell it for any price!"
"Then let me hope that price is low. How much do you ask?"
"500 Gold"
"Fi.... what??!! That sure is lo..... I mean, 'Extremely high', but I reckon I can afford it..." He delved into his backpack and pulled out a sack of coins.
Handing the smith the money, he felt a tinge of sadness that the man was so stupid. He obviously had no idea about how to run a shop, leastways sell a great weapon. He strapped the beautiful scabbard to his belt and slotted the Claw of Akatosh in it's leather-bound home. He admired at how great a smith the Redguard really was, the blade was silver, save a gold-colored shard running along the centre and at the edge. The hilt was of the same gold material, and was inlaid with many precious stones like rubies and sapphires, and a few emeralds scattered here and there.
Angrond purchased a few arrows and a bowstring before leaving the shop, and also left his longsword there to be repaired. He was only a few yards down the street when a green colored hand grabbed his shoulder. He turned around and looked into the eyes of the Dunmer from the tavern...