Chapter 143: In the Forge (1/2)
Leaving those words hanging in the air, Gearhart motioned for Mike to wait while he went through a door leading to the smithy portion of the shop. After a few moments, the sounds of banging of metal on metal halted for a second, only to be followed by a loud and brash female voice.
”What? Why would I do that…Gold? So? I'm busy…alright, alright. I'll do it, but only for an hour. I've got things to work on.”
[I wonder what the state of the soundproofing industry is like in this world.]
Gearhart returned swiftly and walked back to his place at the counter. ”My wife agrees with your proposition. Before we begin, I would like to discuss terms. Since my wife, Brigitte, is one of the finest smiths in the capital, it's only reasonable to place a high price on her time. As such, I cannot ask for less than five gold per hour.”
Mike cocked an eyebrow at that. Five gold seemed extravagant by the standards of this world. After living modestly for much of his reincarnated life, he'd developed a vague understanding of how much the average person made over the course of a work day.
[Are they trying to test me? I suppose a wealthy noble with more money than they know what to do with would be willing to pay that kind of ridiculous price.]
”Are you sure you didn't get confused? Five silver sounds much more reasonable.” Mike replied with the false smile he used while bargaining.
Returning the smile in turn, Gearhart, shook his head. ”Dear customer, I did not misspeak. My wife hails from Theldholm, the same Theldholm which is famous for its skilled blacksmiths. She is also the sole heir of an ancient family of metal workers. Due to tragic circumstances, she was force to flee to Almir where she started this store. It is a rare opportunity to study under the tutelage of a real Theldon master smith, well worth the price of five gold coins. However, since you seem like an enterprising lad, perhaps I can offer you a small discount, just this once. Four gold per hour is the lowest I can feasibly go.”
[So that's how he wants to play it.]
”While that is indeed an impressive background, I still can't quite bring myself to pay such a steep fee for a hour of your wife's time. Perhaps I should look elsewhere. I've heard good things about the 'Hammered Bronze' smithy down the street…” Mike let his words hang in the air as he started to slowly turn, as if seriously considering leaving.
”Dear customer, I must advise that you desist with these ideas of yours. Malin, the owner of 'Hammered Bronze' is a drunken sluggard who doesn't know the difference between a cross peen and a chasing hammer. If you want to waste your time beating ineffectually on a slab of metal, then be my guest. However, if you want to learn proper blacksmithing then you need look no further than our worthy store. Since I would hate to see a promising young student like yourself at the hands of such a terrible teacher, I would be willing to offer the one-time price of three gold, five silver per hour.”
[Ah, I have you now.]
Mike paused as if to consider, ”I had not heard that about Malin. Your words have definitely given me much to think about. Nevertheless, I am not so rich as to spend my money in such an irresponsible fashion. Perhaps a second opinion is in order.”
”Now, now, dear customer, why don't we talk-” Gearhart started before he was interrupted by the door slamming open.
A giant of a woman, dressed in a blacksmith's apron stomped in and swept the pair of them with her gaze. She blew an errant strand of blonde hair out of her soot-streaked face before speaking in a thunderous and confident voice. ”What's taking so long? Is this the guy you were talking about? Feh, he's all sticks and bones. I'm sorry lad, but you'll never make it as a blacksmith with arms like that.”
Suppressing a chuckle at Gearhart's sour face, Mike took a moment to use Appraise on his prospective teacher.
---------------------------------------------
Brigitte Steelblood
Age: 36
Race: Human
Class: Master Smith
Title: Storm Driven Survivor
---------------------------------------------
[Assuming Master Smith is and advanced version of the Smith class, she's definitely qualified.]
”You must be Brigitte, your husband and I were just working out the details of the payment-” He started, before being interrupted as well.
”Just pay him a gold and be done with it. Come on, we have smithing to teach you.” She gave him just enough time to drop a single coin on the counter before picking him up with ridiculous ease, and slinging him over one shoulder.
Under different circumstances, he might have found Gearhart's resulting facepalm entertaining, however, it was a little difficult to enjoy it from his uncomfortable perch.
The smithy Brigitte carried into him was a disorganized mess by any standard. Tools, partially finished projects, and half-eaten plates of food were scattered around without any rhyme or reason. The entire room was sweltering, thanks to an elaborate forge in one corner of the room, which was currently filled with softly glowing coals.
After dropping him haphazardly next to one of the anvils, Brigitte handed him a set of leathers that were a little too big for him. ”Here, put these on. We'll get you trained up right. At least for the hour you've paid for.”
She laughed at that, ”Ha, I feel like one of them painted ladies. Anyway, hurry up. I got a sword blade in the forge as we speak. That's what you want to learn about, right?”
Mike quickly put the protective gear and followed the meandering path the woman cut through the miscellaneous junk that clutter the smithy. By the time he got there, Brigitte already had a set of tongs in hand, and was pulling a glowing rod of metal out of the forge. Without any preamble, she handed it to him, and pointed to a nearby anvil. ”Put it down there, and start hammering.”
[That's it? Shouldn't I get a little more instruction?]
Deciding to go with the flow, Mike picked up a promising looking implement and prepared to start swinging, but stopped when Brigitte called out. ”Not that one, use this one.” She handed him an almost identical hammer. ”Alright, go ahead. You don't want it to get too cool.”
With an internal sigh, Mike fell into the rhythm of work, trying to recall how they did it in the movies. Every time he thought he was starting to get the hang of the complicated process, Brigitte would break in with her 'instruction.'
”Not like that. Hit it harder…Too hard! Try to make a 'bink' noise every time it lands. No, not like that.”