Durin arranged the remaining Demon Hunters one by one, finally turning to the Dwarf who couldn't pick a reason for his choice while holding two machetes: "I remember your surname is Silverpeak, right?"
"Yes, Lord." The Dwarf, who had by this time witnessed Durin crafting weapons and armor as naturally and swiftly as eating, drinking, and breathing, answered cautiously.
"Then stop picking, take both. I have a friend surnamed Silverpeak too." Having said that, Durin crafted two differently shaped machetes and placed them on the table in front of him: "Tell your friends, if they want good gear, to come find me."
The Dwarf agreed wholeheartedly, donned the chain mail that was his, and left Durin a bank draft for two thousand gold pounds before departing.
Durin then looked towards the old man sitting nearby, puffing on a dry pipe: "How long do you intend to keep up this act?"
