With the idea in mind, we decided to head to the merchant area of town; it was a lot less extreme than Everglint had been. This was mostly a farming town, so I could spot some fishermen selling their day's catches. The smell was definitely compelling—I spotted giant tuna, cod, and grouper. I noticed there was a noticeable lack of weapons being sold here; most of the items were practical goods or food. That made me a bit nervous; most of what we had to offer today were weapons handpicked by Finn or other small tools I crafted on the road. We paid the usual fare and set up a wooden booth with a roof over us for shade. I asked as we sat down, "Are weapons not a common sale item here?"
Finn nodded, "Not just in this market; there are very few weapon stores still open. My dad has run most of the competition out of town. Blacksmiths don't make a living here because of that. Besides, my dad, some hold him accountable. Other people in town see my dad as a beacon for other businesses since he basically put our town on the map. The only weapon places still open sell niche goods like things made out of wood or bows and cloth armors." I nodded; that made sense. With such a famous blacksmith to compete with, I doubted most of them would stay. We laid out each of the products anyway, hoping that maybe we could get some curious eyes.
They might be compelled because nobody has directly tried competing against Tony in a long time. The first few moments were slow. Villagers strolled by, eyeing the unfamiliar sight of weapons in a market predominantly filled with produce and handmade goods. Some shot us quizzical looks, their interest piqued by the shiny blades and sturdy handles laid out before them. I stopped an older couple as they passed by, "Would you like to try our new product? It's a free demonstration." They both stopped browsing and responded, "Sure, young man. What is it?"
I decided to lure people in with some of my own products first, "This is a new product I just completed." I showed off a lamp I made; it had a water rune engraved in the bottom with the activation etched in. I showed them how to activate it; the older man chanted the activation phrase, and water flowed into the lamp. It also gave off a small green glow made from dyes and plants I had on hand. It was a sort of lava lamp that you could activate with a rune—nothing groundbreaking, but it was a knickknack you could keep in your house. The woman smiled, "Oh, this is neat. Jeff, why don't we put it in our window? It would make for a nice decoration for our plants." The man nodded, "How much for the lamp, son?" I smiled, "15 mints should do." The man nodded, "Fine work you did here, boy; here you go." I thanked both of them, satisfied with my own work.
More eyes seemed to take in the scene; this created the atmosphere I wanted, with us getting our first sale. Other people in the market seemed interested. A few people came over to buy some more of my rune crafts like the buckets with refillable water and even a few sleep daggers. Oddly enough, though, not a single one of Finn's goods was being bought. In fact, it was the opposite; most people avoided the weapons made by Finn. Finn looked a little withdrawn; it hurt to see him so down when he was so excited an hour ago. Aeolus tried to cheer him up, "It's just a small hiccup, Finn. More people will come; I am sure someone will want to buy one of your weapons." I was getting a bit annoyed; why did nobody want to buy something made by Finn? His work was excellent.
I tried to provide a little bit of a push for Finn's sake. One man browsing the goods looked like a good target. I pointed to a blade Finn made; it was a small dagger carved in a curved way, with a wooden handle. It seemed perfect as a more practical knife for cutting ropes and even as a small defense knife. I spoke up to the man, "Could I interest you in this knife right here? I saw you looking at some of the sleep daggers I made, but this one is better for practical use."
The middle-aged man snorted; most of his head was bald, but the sides, as he glanced at the knife. He responded crudely, "That knife? Tell me you're joking. It was clearly made by Finn. Look kid, not to be rude, but everyone basically knows that Finn is not up to snuff. Why would I buy a knife Finn made when I could just buy from his dad?"
I got defensive for Finn, a big mistake as a merchant, "Hey, his knives are just as good as any blacksmith's. Please don't disrespect him when he puts his all into his craft." I was quickly getting mad, but one look from Finn's pleading eyes told me I was in the wrong. I calmed down before I said too much. Taking a deep breath to compose myself, I realized that getting defensive wasn't the way to win this potential customer over. I needed to be tactful and highlight the unique qualities of Finn's craftsmanship without disparaging his father, Tony. With a polite smile, I addressed the middle-aged man.
"I understand your perspective, sir, and I appreciate your honesty. But let me tell you, Finn has a distinctive touch in his work. This dagger, for instance, is more than just a blade. It's a practical tool, expertly crafted for everyday use. The curved design allows for efficient cutting, perfect for ropes or any task that requires precision. And the wooden handle provides a comfortable grip, making it not only a reliable tool but also a companion for your daily activities."
I picked up the dagger, holding it up to the sunlight, allowing its subtle details to catch the man's eye. "Finn here is not trying to compete with his father, but rather he brings a fresh perspective to the craft. His knives are made with care and dedication, and you won't find another blade quite like this in Tony's shop. It's not about choosing one over the other; it's about having options that suit your needs. This isn't just a knife; it's a testament to Finn's skill and innovation." I leaned in so Finn doesn't hear, "It is also going to be way cheaper if you buy it here from us. A knife like this from Tony will cost 100 mints or more. I will sell you this knife for a fraction of that."
The man put his hand to his jaw; he seemed to be looking over the blade, inspecting every inch of it. Finally, he cleared his throat, "How much are we talking?" I added, "30 mints, but only because you have such a discerning eye." The man looked at the knife, then back at me; he eventually sighed, "30 mints? You sold me; that's just a bit too good a deal." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the coins; he put them on the table. "Truth is, I needed a good knife for around the house. Thanks, kid." He walked away with the knife in hand, and I smiled, knowing that I managed to open the door for Finn.
Once people saw the knife being sold, a few wandering eyes turned into a lot, eventually forming a bit of a crowd. A young guy asked, "Hey, can I get this knife for 30 too?" An older woman asked, "Could you give a young woman a sweet deal on this big knife, young man?" A burly man laughed, "How much for the short sword? My son was talking about, wanting to spar with his old man." Eventually, most of the weapons were gone, and each of us remained busy throughout the afternoon.
I showed Finn the ropes on buying and selling in between customers; he seemed to really be enjoying the process. Aeolus slapped him on the back, "You see? I told you the weapons would be a hit." Finn, embarrassed, mumbled, "B-but dad always says they aren't ready to be sold." I responded, "That is just because he has high expectations; sometimes parents can be overbearing in that way." Not that I would know really, but I think Tony didn't want to see his son's products in his own shop. Maybe he didn't want Finn to compare his own work to his father's just yet.
The day drew to a close with our booth nearly emptied of weapons and a satisfied crowd dispersing into the gentle glow of the evening. Finn, still processing the success of the day, looked around at the emptying market square, a mixture of pride and realization in his eyes. As we packed up the remaining goods, I said, "You did well today, Finn. Your blades have found homes with people who appreciate the craftsmanship and innovation you bring to the table. This is just the beginning." Finn nodded, a newfound confidence gleaming in his eyes. "Thanks, Lucius. I never thought selling my own creations could be so fulfilling."
With a shared sense of accomplishment, we left the market, carrying with us not just the earnings from the day but the promise of a new chapter for Finn's budding career as a blacksmith. The success in this quaint fishing town marked the start for our guild, the Grin Reapers. I dreamt of the day we would go from town to town, selling weapons and goods to people all over the world.