In Search of the Past: Selling Daggers

The sun shines ardently down on the small cluster of thatched-roof houses and whitewashed buildings known as the sepherding village. A cool breeze blows in from the north lessening the severity of the heat during this day of early April. The sky is clear, with maybe one or two whisps of clouds passing by. On the ground, the inhabitants of the village go about their daily business as they shuffle from one building to another there are some pushing large wheelbarrows or carts full of waresand and others merely lazying, either observing others idly or relaxing out in the fields.

One of the formerly mentioned people happens to be Verge - but perhaps she is doing something more useful than just observing the woman stands by the corner of a building with a low table placed before her holding an array of trinkets - knives, forks, other sorts of dinnerware, and small home-made daggers. Perhaps she is selling them?

[Brev(#30997)] Brev probably has ambitions to become one of the observers. Currently he is entering the town, a small rabbit slung over one shoulder, though he is without his hunting spear. He blinks at all the activity, but at the sight of Verge, the corners of his mouth pull back in a small grin, and it is toward her he turns his steps. He greets her at a safe distance, using the Common, \"Morning. Quite the fine day for trading.\" And then, in his native tongue, \"Had any luck yet? Kiern, didn\'t know you had such a thing for knives.\" He eyes the little array.

The appearance of Brev seems to catch her a little unexpectedly, but upon hearing his voice, she must keep her smile from turning into a full grin. \"Good morning,\" she responds in cheery Westron. Switching over to Dunael, Verge asks, \" I\'ve sold two knives, at least.\" A pause, and she reaches over with her left hand to check how many of the utensils are still layed out on the table, lest anyone had stolen from her while she was distracted. \" They\'re just little things I\'ve traded off of people - you\'d be surprised how many people give these kinds of things up,\" she explains. \" Sadly, they\'re not worth much.\"

[Brev(#30997)] Brev\'s own grin widens. \"Don\'t go telling folk that! Even I know better, and I\'m no trader. And two\'s not bad.\" Moving a little nearer to the table, he picks up one of the little daggers - the eating utensils are ignored for now - and says aloud in clear, sing-song Common, \"Looks nice workmanship.\" Perhaps he\'s hoping to help draw folk\'s attention.

Verge, at realizing what Brev is doing, cannot help but grin. \" You\'re just saying that!\" She responds in her native tongue. \"I\'m willing to sell it at a very reasonable price.\" These words are said in Westron, and in as loud a tone as Breveg\'s. \"No good offers are refused.\" The woman falls silent now, and listens for the sound of approaching footsteps. But seeing as there are none yet, she asks the other Dunlending in a more hushed tone, \" Is anyone noticing?\"

[Tinnugwath(#27474)] Drawn by the activity in the center of the village, an elf enters the area, scanning the crowd for people he might have met earlier. He wanders, seemingly aimless, until he arrives at the Dunland woman with her table of daggers. With her is another Dunlending, a soldier by the look of it. The elf examines her wares carefully -- all human-make and not up to his high standards -- although one might make it as a souvenir, a reminder of his strange stay in the Yfelwyd. One thing that does not escape him is the language spoken by the two -- partly understood and part still incomprehensible.

[Brev(#30997)] \"No good offers?\" Brev repeats after Verge solemnly, keeping to the Common. \"Mine are always good.\" The corners of his mouth are twitching, and he has to look swiftly away from the woman lest the grin become full-blown mirth. So he turns the little dagger slowly in his hands, shooting a few sidelong glances round. \"There\'s one or two looking. They\'re so bloody independent - wait.\" The words break off as the elf approaches, and he shifts hastily sideways to allow the newcomer room. \"Good day.\" His Westron is polite, though the wariness in his stance at the sight of this ..other.. doubtless also echoes in his voice. \"Were you looking to buy a dagger? Or,\" he breaks off, frowning at the cutlery as he gropes for the word, and settles for pointing, \"one of these? They\'re neatly made.\"

The soft beating of the elf\'s boots upon the ground, even as soft as they may be, does not go unpercepted by Verge\'s careful listening. She tilts her head over in the newcomer\'s direction, but she keeps her eyes lowered down towards the items layed out on the table, her hand reaching out again to adjust the position of one the miniature daggers. \"Good morning, sir,\" she greets the elf politely with a smile. \"Interesting in anything you see?\" She asks, basically echoing what Brev has said in her own words. \"These always come in handy.\" The Dunlending woman picks up the mentioned dagger, twirling it around in her grasp and showing it off to the potential customer.

[Tinnugwath(#27474)] The elf nods and picks up one of the small daggers, checking its weight and sharpness before flipping it deftly in one hand. \"Good quality,\" he says at last, almost grudgingly. \"Perhaps later,\" he says in his lilting voice. \"I have pressing needs elsewhere, so if you will excuse me....\" He turns on his heel and heads back to the house he came from.

[Brev(#30997)] Brev watches the elf handle the dagger, remaining silent. When the other turns and retraces a step, he sighs. \"It was worth a try. Wonder what those \'pressing needs\' are? Somehow I doubt he\'s off to relieve himself.\"

He glances down to the little knife he himself is still holding, and sets it carefully back in place. \"I\'ll have to think about a price,\" he says aloud, in the Common.\"

The woman\'s smile fades visibly at the elf\'s delayed response regarding the dagger\'s quality. \"Alright then,\" is all she says to the quickly-departing elf, while still keeping a polite demeanor. \" I don\'t think he was one of the locals.\" She shrugs meekly. \" Business is tough here,\" she comments, with a half-hearted smile offered to Brev\'s attempts at attracting customers. Eventually, a young man of about twenty years old, passing by on his way to one of the nearby households, comes to a slow halt just a few meters infront of the small stand, eyeing the inventory rather keenly his eyes focused on one of the larger daggers. \"I\'ll offer this ring for that dagger?\" He then pulls the said ring - a band of silver - off one of his fingers, and offers it up to Verge. Around the same time the man does this, there appears to be another potential customer approaching - this one much older and carrying a batch of apples in a small crate. He eyes the goings on between Verge and the other man, before approaching the table himself and inspecting the goods.

\"Five apples for the knife right there?\" He nods towards a sharp cutlery knife. While Verge holds out her palm so that the younger man may give her the ring - \"Sure, could I see it for a second?\" - she nods towards the other customer and says, \"Alright .. you mean this knife?\" With a free hand, Verge reaches out to grab the closest knife to her, not really caring whether it is the right one or not, but just so that the man might clarifly which one he wants.

[Brev(#30997)] Whatever response Brev might have had to those first Dunael words, it is curtailed by the arrival of not one but two customers. He watches Verge\'s handling of the pair, a small smile playing about the corners of his mouth. Aloud he says, \"I\'ll get out of your way. \'Sides, I\'ve got a rabbit I\'d best get back for skinning. Later, eh?\" And in the Common, \"I\'ll be back.\" With that - and with several wary glances over his shoulder as he goes to make sure the men are not harrassing Verge or stealing her wares - he is heading away.