DreamLyrics™ Play-by-Post Forums Fantasy RRL: Rise of the Rune Lords - Burnt Offerings RRL: Exploring Sandpoint

[OOC: This is a catch all thread for those who are going to explore Sandpoint in the afternoon, shopping or otherwise. Set yourself anything you would like to get accomplish, and I will respond as appropriate.]

Catalena

Even though it was still the afternoon, Catalena was dragging her boots. She'd been awake and on her feet for the majority of the last twelve hours. Her silk and linen were gone, her ceremony cancelled, her festival wrecked, her plans for a night of debauched revelry likely curtailed. And, she'd promised Aendell a reading so she wasn't going to start drinking. Though, she had to admit to herself, the prospect of warm water, soap, and a nap was the most attractive thing to her. Well, Aendell was certainly not bad on the eyes. She wondered if he had the ability to loosen up. Some companionship would not be unwelcome after such a day, she smiled.

Of course, she could always attempt another try at charming Ameiko Kajitsu. The talented Tian chef and owner of the Rusty Dragon held a complex place in Catalena's heart. She was intensely fond of the charismatic former adventurer and felt a great affection, if not outright awe, for her, while at the same time harboring a bit of a friendly, professional rivalry toward her. Ameiko was a more experienced and confident singer than she, and she could play the shamisen with a fierce skill and dexterity which Catalena felt would be forever beyond her to try to compete with. But on the nights that they collaborated on a harmony or when Cat danced to Ameiko's bachi picking, she felt an intense desire to ask the older woman to continue their duet upstairs. But there was always a bit of darkness in Ameiko, some deep pain in her past, or some complex entanglement (oh, the rumors and speculation about Ameiko's "secret lover"!), that always kept Cat at an arm's length.

Before turning in, something had been nagging at her. While she had a fondness for her katana's quickness and lightness, she felt she could be more effective with a bit more reach. She had been eyeing a fine, very long sword in Savah's Armory for some time. It had a bit of a curve to it and was crafted of cold iron. She'd tested it for weight before and, being twice the weight of her katana, she'd not felt like she was ready. But after these weeks of patrolling in the armor of the Guard, she was feeling a bit more physically fit. Perhaps it was time to inquire about it again with Savah Bevaniky the weapon trader.

Catalena passed through the abnormally subdued High Street to turn on Market Street and see if Savah was open.

After she took care of this business, she planned, when returning to the Dragon's common room, to inquire about the availability of a warm bath at this hour.

Savah's door is open, and that is a good sign that the human merchant is willing to do business. Inside the naturally lighted room, there was a wide variety of arms and armor. In fact, someone new to Sandpoint wouldn't expect such a well-stocked armory. Yet here it was.

Savah offered Catalena a wide smile. "Back to gaze longingly at the cold iron bastard sword? It is such a fine weapon from Maginmar. It is finely balanced and sharpened to an edge that will leave your enemies crying for release. And just because you are now one of the heroes of Sandpoint for fending off the goblin hordes. I will grant you and your companions 20% off anything in my shop as a reward for your saving us!"

Catalena

"Enemies?" Catalena smiled. "None have I. Temporarily circumstantial opponents, perhaps. Those whose immediate aims and my own are at odds. Such as if they wish to spit me over a campfire and crack my bones with their teeth. I, on the other hand, prefer my bones where they are. A simple difference of opinion."

She lazily drifted through the shop, coyly and deliberately not looking up at the great, gleaming, slightly curved blade on the wall over Savah. "Oh, just browsing today," she commented, lifting up a particularly ugly cylindrical helmet with a boar's head badly molded atop, painted a gaudy pale green. At the offer of a discount, she turned, keenly interested, replacing the helmet such that the offending ornament was facing away from her.

"Twenty percent?" she beamed, as she spun, teeth gleaming. "Well, then."

She strode to the counter and held out her arms, palms up. "May I hold her, please?" she asked.

Savah

"Of course," he responded smoothly. "No reasonable merchant would expect you to make any kind of a decision without touching and holding the merchandise." Turning he took down the large, slightly curved weapon and set it on the counter with the keen edge back towards himself.

Catalena

Catalena reverently lifted the blade, feeling its heft and balance. It felt about twice as heavy as her katana with both the blade and the handle each about a foot longer. It did not bear the mark of a master craftsperson but Cat knew there was no way she could afford such a thing. But the deeply mined, comparatively cold-forged iron was more expensive than more common variety. The iron had more of a brutish cast to it, despite the polish, that lent it the feel of an older time, when the Dwarves in their mountains had been the first to forge metal. Perhaps this was why fey disliked and feared the material. It was no-nonsense. Cold-iron was sometimes hailed for its effectiveness against demons as well, not that Catalena planned or wished to ever meet a demon.

She lifted the blade and felt along the handle up to the hilt where she felt comfortable holding it, two-handed. There was room enough for four or five of her hands on the extended handle so she had a lot of flexibility to explore, whether she was using it in close quarters or if she was sweeping outward to its full length. She could feel the weight of the tang inside the handle to balance out the length. Like her katana, only one blade was edged. Ameiko had told her that the Tian word for the big sword was nodachi.

After asking permission to take it outside where she could swing it safely, especially if Savah was watching for any pedestrians in the post-attack subdued street. This part of the town was generally less populated, there having been a fire some time ago, of which, Savah's was a surviving structure. To the north, a hundred feet or so, was the high wall of the boneyard.

With the coast clear, Catalena began to exercise the big blade, seeing how easily she could navigate the swings close to her body inside the concavity of the blunted side of the blade's curve, in her particular style of fighting that was somewhat performatively terpsichorean. She realized she did feel stronger. The nodachi, despite its length, was comparatively light. It was not designed to brute-force its way through armor and shields. But the combination of weight and balance and sharpness of the edge gave her the impression that something like her own leathers would be like paper to a full strike from it. That made her wonder if it might be time to try that chainmail sometime that suited the Watch officers but she felt would be too restrictive. Maybe she could even make the jingle work, she smiled.

After a few leaps and turns, spins and strikes, she turned back to Savah. "All right, I'm sold," she said. "There's a scabbard for it, I expect? Good thing I'm not as short as my blessed mother or it would drag along the ground!"

Savah

"Of course," he offered when she inquired about a scabbard. He went into the back and came out with a thing of beauty. It was hardened leather outside, with an embossed plate that could be inscribed with some crest or symbol if Catalena so chose. Inside the layered leather was butter smooth and as soft as velvet. It didn't take a master craftsman to realize that the sheath was made specifically for this particular blade, taking into account every little nuance. It might not speed up her drawing the sword from it, but it certainly couldn't hurt.

Catalena

"Well, look at that," Catalena beamed at the scabbard. She ran her fingers up and down, lingering on the embossed plate. "I've half a mind to go and ask Volioker if he'd etch a Desnan butterfly on this for me."

Though Volioker Briskalberd was a locksmith by trade, he was a fine dwarven craftsman with nimbler fingers than the infamously grouchy blacksmith, Das Korvut. And a lock by Volioker, of which most of the best locks in town were, always bore Volioker's flamboyant mark. The dwarf was also a great patron of the arts and theater in Sandpoint, as was Catalena, and she'd always enjoyed conversing with him.

She slid the blade into the scabbard, which she then strapped tightly to her left shoulder and secured loosely to her right waist. Thinking that should keep the sheathed blade from knocking merchandise off shelves or tankards off tables while still allowing it to be drawn quickly as it levered on her shoulder as the lower restraint was freed, she was satisfied at its positioning. She felt somewhat of a comfort from its weight there, like a friend's hand upon her shoulder.

She counted out the gold on the counter, remembering there was to be a discount, but trustingly relying on Savah to do the math for her.



((ooc I adjusted my character sheet down the proper amount (56gp) but if Savah takes a little more or less, she's not likely to notice. ))

Savah eyes the coin as it is counted, and makes sure that neither of them suffers from any ill choices.

"Thank you for your patronage," he states with a smile and a slight happy lilt in his voice.

[OOC: The merchant is scrupulously accurate and ensures Catalena only pays the agreed upon price with the discount.]

Catalena

Catalena waved farewell to Savah and turned back up High Street towards the Cathedral Square again, humming a tavern tune, the nodachi's weight resting against her shoulder and hip.