"My finest piece?" Brokkrid asked, as a man, a little taller than she walked up to the forge. She looked him over twice, "You mean that I am selling or that I have ever made?" She smiled sharply, she enjoyed a bit of word play from time to time, but sometimes her mouth got ahead of her. It was one of the reasons she was a nomad, and it was part of the reason that she had no real money to speak of today as she worked the bellows, bringing the fire to the right temperature.
"Sorry, my mouth runs away with me sometimes." She shook her head, "The finest piece that I have about me right now is in that bag right there to your left." She indicated with a nod to her right, and his left. A bundle about the size of a small fire pit was there, and was one of the things she had lugged all the way from New Haven, but she had kept it longer than even that.
Should he open the bag he would find a shield, a bear's head worked with steel that fit her arm perfectly, which would be about half an inch small for him, that had silver teeth, and silver eyes worked into it. It was Brokkrid's shield, she had never once thought of selling it, but for all of her years of lugging it around three to be exact, she had used it exactly never. She had made it shortly after being mugged and losing everything she owned to bandits.
Figuring that she should be able to defend herself, and fancying that a sword and board was the best way of doing that, she had fashioned the sword that hung at her side, the length of her forearm, its handle worn and its blade as new as the day she had forged it, and the bear shield that she kept strapped to her back over her other gear. She had polished it almost every night at first, but now it was just one more thing that she lugged around hither and thither, wherever her feet took her.
"That's the finest thing that doesn't have magic, I'd wager, for at least a good square mile. It took me sixteen days to get the teeth, the eyes, and the mouth just right." She boasted, and it looked about ready to snarl at anyone who looked into its eyes. "It, however, makes a poor bedfellow, and also won't put food in my mouth." She said, musingly, still working the bellows, "What're you in the market for, might I ask?"
"Sorry, my mouth runs away with me sometimes." She shook her head, "The finest piece that I have about me right now is in that bag right there to your left." She indicated with a nod to her right, and his left. A bundle about the size of a small fire pit was there, and was one of the things she had lugged all the way from New Haven, but she had kept it longer than even that.
Should he open the bag he would find a shield, a bear's head worked with steel that fit her arm perfectly, which would be about half an inch small for him, that had silver teeth, and silver eyes worked into it. It was Brokkrid's shield, she had never once thought of selling it, but for all of her years of lugging it around three to be exact, she had used it exactly never. She had made it shortly after being mugged and losing everything she owned to bandits.
Figuring that she should be able to defend herself, and fancying that a sword and board was the best way of doing that, she had fashioned the sword that hung at her side, the length of her forearm, its handle worn and its blade as new as the day she had forged it, and the bear shield that she kept strapped to her back over her other gear. She had polished it almost every night at first, but now it was just one more thing that she lugged around hither and thither, wherever her feet took her.
"That's the finest thing that doesn't have magic, I'd wager, for at least a good square mile. It took me sixteen days to get the teeth, the eyes, and the mouth just right." She boasted, and it looked about ready to snarl at anyone who looked into its eyes. "It, however, makes a poor bedfellow, and also won't put food in my mouth." She said, musingly, still working the bellows, "What're you in the market for, might I ask?"
