The sounds of a hammer striking a burning red sword rang out as a skinny young man tapped the anvil twice after each blow. He was utterly focused on his task, unaware of the man waiting by the doorway with a glare. The man glaring was a stark contrast to the young man, he was well built and looked more suited to be working a blacksmith. Charlotte couldn't care less, though; their mind was focused on finishing the job and getting paid.
He was going to be able to have enough money to start his journey finally; a small smile spread across his face.
The man yelled something, but it never reached Charlotte's ears as they struck the blade a few more times. He inspected the blade, his expressive magenta eyes, not hiding his annoyance. He pushed the blade into the water, taking a deep breath.
"Can you not be so impatient, how am i supposed to work if you can't shut your mouth... Unless you think fixing your blade is such an easy task, you can do it yourself?" Charlotte said with a smile, While the man kept glaring.
Luckily, he stayed quiet and even better, he didn't hit him. Charlotte was in a good mood and wouldn't let him ruin his day.
He inspected the blade from the water, setting his hammer down on the anvil. He walked over to the grinder and focused back on sharpening the blade. The guards here had no idea how long it took to fix a blade, they just assumed it was simple and quick task. Although to be fair, he would have been done a few hours ago if the guard had left him alone instead of constantly harassing him.
Charlotte wasn't capable of pushing his weight often, his small stature and the fact that there was multiple blacksmiths made it rare he got a job paying much. He wore a tattered apron with ragged and dirty clothes, he never really had the option to buy himself better looking clothes. Especially with how much he had to save to reach his true goal.
His worries were shaved away as he sharpened the blade, once he finished sharpening the blade his mind was clear. He ran his hands across the blade of the sword, he always wanted to be learn how to use a sword.
His attention was focused back on the guard as he spoke up.
"Are you done, or will you keep wasting my time." His tone was impolite and hurried as he reached for the blade once Charlotte walked closer.
Charlotte returned and held their hand out before he could grasp the blade, a grin spreading across his face.
"I'm done, but I don't see my payment anywhere.~" He held the blade just out of reach; the guard impatiently reached into his pocket and dropped three silver coins into his hand. Charlotte immediately handed them the blade as it slipped back into it's sheath, he didn't even seem to care to check it's quality.
"I'm never coming here again." He said harshly as he pushed the door open and slammed it back into place, walking off to his post.
Charlotte was surprised the door didn't break; he removed his apron and set it next to the door as a hook held it up. He walked off hurriedly, crouching under the stairs and slowly pulling a few pieces of wood from the floor. Underneath was a sack, and next to it was what appeared to be an iron chest plate with gauntlets. The fingers of the gauntlets were like claws.
He took out the chest plate, gauntlets, and the sack. The sack took a lot more effort, especially since it was filled with coins. His arms were already tired from fixing the blade, so he didn't have his usual strength. He wasn't weak by any means, and his lean build gave the impression that he had no muscle.
His job demanded him to be fit, even more so considering he wasn't blessed with a tall and robust body.
He eventually pulled the sack out of the hole and opened it up, inside it was filled with copper and silver coins. This was years worth of saving and back-breaking work. Finally, though, he had saved enough to accomplish his goal. He quickly closed the sack, and his gaze moved to the chest plate and gauntlets.
He untied his unkempt black hair, sliding part of it away from his face; he needed to get it cut. Not that he would waste his money on such a silly thing; he always tied it into a ponytail when he got to work.
He began putting on the smooth chest plate, it looked perfectly smooth speaking to the talent of the blacksmith that made it. The chest plate had a insignia on the back, it was a sword that had a hammer slamming into it causing it to crack. It was the insignia his father had always used whenever he finished anything her worked on, it like the right thing to use it as his own... Especially after he disappeared one day.
He next slid the gauntlets into his hands; he wished he had a mirror or at least something to help him see how he looked. The gauntlets had the same insignia on the forearms. The difference in appearance between the two might give the impression two different people made it, but sadly, that wasn't the case. He had made both himself. He honestly considered them to be his masterpieces.
He got up and looked at his home; he would return. Yet he felt strangely melancholy and wanted to ensure he didn't forget anything.
A forge was against the wall, with an anvil and hammer resting on top. Beside the forge rested a table with different tools, all of them looked well used and some in need of replacement. The wall above the table had weapons placed upon it, from swords, hammers, maces, and shields. He didn't often sell any of those weapons, but it was an excellent way to display the quality of his work.
He walked over, grabbed a short sword, and picked out a sheath. He would wear the sword on his back, walk over to pick up the sack and haul it over his shoulder.
He hadn't ever used a sword, it was mostly a intimidation tactic meant to scare any would be thieves. He took a deep breath and walked over to the door before leaving.