As we left Ezekiel and Lady Cecily to their date, we merged back into the vibrant streets of SilverGlade. My mind was blank, and I had nothing to ponder as I walked alongside Andrew.
Suddenly, I remembered something. "You never told me the name of the blacksmith's shop," I said.
Andrew smiled. "The name is Silver Forge. It's located to the west of here."
"Silver Forge...I like the play on words," I remarked.
As we approached the Silver Forge, I couldn't help but notice the fine craftsmanship of the exterior. The blacksmith had taken great care to make sure the wooden façade was painted to perfection, with not a single speck of dirt or grime in sight. The sign hanging above the door emblazoned with the words "Silver Forge," was meticulously crafted, with each letter hand-painted and gilded with silver leaf. The gentle creaking of the sign in the breeze was the only sound to be heard before we pushed open the door.
As we stepped inside, we were greeted by the sight of a spacious workspace, filled with various tools of the trade. A dozen or so anvils were scattered throughout the room, each positioned in a way that allowed the blacksmith to work on multiple projects at once. The walls were lined with shelves filled with all manner of metalworking tools, from hammers and tongs to chisels and files. The air was thick with the scent of molten metal, the warm glow of the forge casting a dim light over the entire room.
In the corner of the workshop, a tall man stood over a large anvil, his hammer ringing out as he shaped a piece of glowing metal. His biceps bulged as he swung the heavy tool with ease, his long hair pulled back in a tight braid. Sweat glistened on his brow, and his muscles rippled with each strike of the hammer.
As he finished shaping the metal, he placed it in a cooling trough filled with water, the sizzle of hot metal meeting cold water echoing throughout the room. Wiping his brow with a thick forearm, he turned to face us with a smile.
"Greetings, What can I do for you today?" he asked, his voice deep and gruff.
"I'm here to request a change for the armor my knight ordered yesterday," I said as we approached the counter. The blacksmith appeared well-off, and the whole building was immaculately maintained. The top-quality products on display and the fresh paint outside indicated that he had no shortage of money.
"Sure, I remember that man coming into my store yesterday. Let me go get the sketches," the blacksmith said, pointing at Andrew before disappearing into the back.
As we waited, I couldn't help but marvel at the quality of the products on display. As I lifted a sword off its display rack, I felt the weight of the hilt settles comfortably into my palm. Its grip was wrapped in supple leather, and stitched with expert precision. The pommel at the base of the hilt was crafted from a solid block of polished steel, with intricate scrollwork etched around its perimeter.
As I lifted the blade into the air, the light glinted off the finely honed edge, razor-sharp and glimmering in the flickering light of the forge. The blade itself was a work of art, with a gently curving shape that tapered to a wicked point. Its surface was adorned with elaborate etchings and intricate designs, telling the story of its creation and the skill of its maker.
With a graceful swing, I sliced the blade through the air, feeling the perfect balance of the sword as it cut through the breeze. Its weight was expertly distributed, with no unnecessary heft to weigh down my arm.
"He must be doing pretty well," I remarked to Andrew as we waited for the blacksmith to return.
"The blacksmith seems to be the best in all of Silverglade, but his services are quite expensive," I commented as I put the display sword back onto the rack. Its balance and weight were perfect, far superior to my current sword.
"How much do you think it would cost to take him to our territory?" I asked Andrew.
"It's not possible. He is under contract with the Silverglade government, and the contract he has signed is quite hefty, so he has no reason to accept any offers from us," Andrew replied quickly.
I sighed. It would have been nice to have such high-quality products, but it wasn't worth damaging my relationship with Master Calliope.
Just then, the blacksmith returned carrying a few papers with a bunch of drawings. "Here are the sketches. If you want me to add something specific, like a design, just point where, and I will do it," he said.
"I don't want a design. I want you to add a defensive rune, preferably hidden from sight, anywhere you see fit," I said as I grabbed the papers and examined the sketches. They were highly detailed.
The blacksmith stroked his beard, then took the papers from me and began writing. "A defensive rune, huh? It will cost you, and you should expect an extra 6-8 weeks for the armor since runes are hard to come by, but I should be able to get one."
With the business matters settled, I turned to the blacksmith and asked, "How long have you been in this business?"
"20 years nonstop, sir," he replied promptly.
"20 years, wow! Are you the only one that works here? It must get tiring," I asked with a smile.
He responded, "Yes, sir. I am the only one that works here, and it isn't that bad. I can't afford to have any more workers as it would only bring the quality down."
Curious, I asked, "But how do you manage to keep up with the demand, especially with your contract with Silverglade? It must be impossible to do it all alone."
"I don't require much sleep, sir, and my body allows me to work for up to 18 hours a day before I feel the slightest hint of fatigue. All I need is a bit of food and a bit of water," he explained as he grabbed a cup and filled it with water before taking a sip.
"Wow you have an admirable work ethic" I smiled before slightly slamming the counter with little force "Well I guess the issue is resolved we will be heading out"
As we left the blacksmith's shop, he bid us farewell with a courteous "Pleasure doing business." Once outside, I couldn't help but express my thoughts aloud. "Admirable but sad, don't you think?" I remarked, turning to Andrew for his opinion.
"Sad? What do you mean?" he asked, looking at me with confusion.
I shook my head. "The man works 18 hours, not by choice, but by duty. A man who works that long has no time for family, friends, or even acquaintances. At some point, he will lay down in bed and wonder if this is how he will spend the rest of his life. It's a truly pitiful experience. He may seem happy on the outside, but when I looked into his eyes, I could see how he truly felt."
"By duty? I guess that's right. Silverglade imposes a mentality of sacrificing the individual for the greater good of the territory," Andrew replied, understanding my point of view.
"That mentality will lead to that man's suicide. It won't be long before he reaches his breaking point. It's a shame that a great talent will be lost." I sighed
"Yes, what a shame" Andrew echoed my statement. The sun had set, and the moon had conquered the sky, indicating it was time to return to the estate.