Denial of Service

Hawk’s Aerie Carpentry Shop


 * The shop is warm from the heat of the forge in an adjoining corridor. Weapons and armor, as well as other various items, are displayed all about the shop. Near the back, a muscular woman in burlap and leather is repairing the damaged ring of a set of obsdian ringmail armor.

Adaer Kahar enters the shop, looking around as he walks toward the center of the front room. If the woman notices him, he waves and greets her with a half-smile, "Hello, Miss."

She looks up from her work at the man, looking him over up and down.. The nice clothing, suave look, expensive jewelry. Loeden Whicker bares her teeth in a silent snarl. "Wot d'ye want, fancy-pants?"

Adaer Kahar raises his brow, looking down toward his pants. He looks back up and pauses for a moment with his mouth open, saying then, "Well, I'd like, for one, a sabre. And, two, an arbalest." He looks around, some more, then, after he speaks.

The burly smith scowls at him, spitting to one side of her stool. "Don't 'ave any. Go away." Of course, there's a steel sabre hanging on the wall with the rest of the weapons. And an iron one too, for that matter.

"Then I'll have them specially made," Adaer replies, still looking around. "How much for that? Half up front?" His eyes then spot the sabres. His brow furrows as he points, looking back to the woman, "Wait, what about these? You have sabres right here..."

"Not fer sale. I run a pawn shop.. They belong t' cussomers 'oo as th' claim to 'em. Go away." The woman repeats, expression one of pure hostility. "I'm tired o' servin' yer kind, my pretty work going t' some poncy noblemun or t'other."

"Excuse me?" Adaer replies with a frown. "Come on, don't be unreasonable. You know nothing about me and you're going to refuse to do business with me? That's ridiculous."

"No, yer ridiculous, in tha' getup. Lookit all th' rings, ye poncy noblemun.. 'Oo do ye think ye are, a gel?" She sets the ringmail aside, standing. Not tall, but muscular as any smith ends up being. "I'm na' bein' unreasonable. I'm perffic'ly reasonable.. T' people 'oo d'serve it."

"Listen you crass beastly woman," Adaer replies with a snarl, "Who do you think you are talking to strangers like that? I didn't put forth any pretense. I was quite cordial and polite. I'm a man of business and I happen to have done right by myself. I'm a freelander, like yourself. I've worked hard to afford jewelry and clothing like this, just like you work hard here in your shop. Now, I've come a long way to be here because word is you're the best. I want the best. Please sell me the best."

"I think I'm a craftswoman in 'er own shop, harrased by stupid poncy noblemuns. Shoore, ye didn't.. But ye also didn'a leave. None of yeer type does, always shocked that anyone could fail ta bow an' scrape and grovel fer their bizzness. I don't care 'oo ye are, but no freelander wears rings all over 'is fingers, silks, velvets.. Not ta mention th' stuff ye were tryin' to order is, I do believe regulated by th' weapons code. Yea, I'm th' best.. An' I'm too good fer ye." Loeden declares, alto a hoarse shout. "Every time I bend an' work wi' one of ye, more of ye come around, like flies ta shit. Git OUT."

"Fine," Adaer replies looking sad. "I'm sorry I've wasted your time. It's just... Nevermind. I'll leave you alone. It's a long trip back to the East Aegis, anyhow."

"Finally." She declares, thumping back down on her stool and reaching for the armor she was repairing.

"Well, it's just, I don't know if you've heard, but the Imperial Watch isn't over there, yet. The Houses forget about those small towns, too. Got alot of crime..." Adaer says, turning towards the door and then back to the woman a few times while he talks.

"Ye kinnae resist still trying, eh? I tell ye wot.." She stands from her stool again and picks up a toy shardwood sword that sits on the counter. "Mebbe this tis about yeer size."

"Oh, yeah, maybe that'll help defend the orphans and widows," Adaer replies sarcastically. "Are you heartless?"

"I like norphans n' widders jus' fine. Poncy noblemuns like ye are, on th' tother 'and, deserve t' be mugged an' fleeced fer all yer worth." Loeden responds, smirking. "Tha' won' work on me. If ye wan' basic defense, ye kin buy a woodsmun's axe or 'ammer at the bazaar.. Or ye kin make a weapon outa a stick. A board wi' a nail in it. Ye don't need m' work.. Ye jus' think 'twill look good with yon outfit."

"Alright," Adear says throwing his hands up in the air. "What will it take? You tell me. I won't leave till you've sold me what I want. That's what it takes to get me to leave. Now, what will it take for you to sell me what I want? Come on, there's a price. You tell me. Make it really simple on both of us."

"Ye bastid.. Why d'ye noblemuns always think there's a price? Tis it that devastatin', to find out one person in tha world has absolutely no interes' in givin' ye anythin' a'tall? Summat 'oo doesn't care fer yer money? I cud retire any time I wanted to, sa money's no draw." She goes back to working on the ringmail, absorbed in the work of repairing some of the damaged obsidian rings. "What'vr. If yeer still 'ere by closin' time, I'll call th' guard in on ye."

"Ok. Money isn't your thing, I get it. What is?" Adaer asks, walking over to the counter. "You see, this is something we call a negotiation. You tell me what I have to do to get what I want. I don't give a shit about your principals. I don't admire them - you're closing yourself off from alot of business, but I respect that you have them. You hate that nobles have all the power and wealth while you toil. I get it. Put that aside because that's not the issue. The issue is I'm still here and I'm not leaving till you do business with me."

"Negociation assumes you have something that I want." Loeden responds, the gutter accent simply dissapearing from her tone as she stares, flatly, at Adaer. "As for respect, don't make me laugh. If there was respect involved, you would simply have taken your business elsewhere. For all of your urbane, genteel act, the fact still remains that you are standing here in my shop, against my wishes, and demanding the fruits of my labor just because you feel you deserve them. There are few words I have to describe people like you, and none of them are flattering. " Loeden looks back down at her work, nimbly putting a replacement ring into the woven pattern in the place of a broken one.

"I toil because I love my work. I put my heart, my soul into the things I make. It is almost unbearable to see them in the hands of people that I feel hardly deserve them. I am now at the point in my career where I can finally talk back, finally follow my heart.. And that comes from clawing myself out of the Shadow district, into a respectful township, learning how to speak... And years of working for people like you, all the while biting my tongue when what I really wanted was to take the axe at my belt and split open your weak little heads."

She looks up once again, with naked hatred in her eyes. "I tried making exceptions, and got to deal with the oh-so-lovely Thayndor Zahir... Some duchess who wants a fancy circlet.. Some ex-blade who thinks he's a man of the people because he kept company with convicts, enforcing unfair laws for his career. He was oh-so proud that his commander was a commoner. Nobles, in my admittedly wide experience, are perfectly nice when you deal with them. Then they go back to not realizing or caring that you exist, unless it's to brag about 'their' delightful carpenter or smith, or whatever. I tried making exceptions until my hammer grew too heavy and my carving knife wouldn't bring shapes out of wood anymore. I will not do it any longer." She leans back on her stool, continuing to glare at Adaer. "So. Now you know something about me. What makes you so special, hm?"

"Can I have your name, please?" Adaer asks, then. "Have I been so rude to have not inquired of it earlier? Forgive me. My name's Adaer. I was born in a town called Vozhdya. It's been recently changed to Aegisview, not sure if you knew that. A brief background, I'm a glassmaker. I have a shop in the Market District. I used to own the large Glass Works in Marble Grove, but that was taken from me when I was imprisoned for tax evasion. Let's see, combat knowledge? I was born with a sword in my hand. As an adult I avoided a life in the Blades, but was forced to enlist a few years ago.

"I'm recently of the Darkwater Keep. I'm a poleman, which means I man the poles at the bottom of the keelboat. I'm not respected among the crew of my boat and in general around the keep because I'm prone to being aboard sinking ships, which is, I guess, bad luck for them to be in the same ship as me. Oh, I have a son. He's in the custody of the Church of True Light, currently. Haven't seen him since he was born. I'm in love with my ex-wife but she's getting married in the spring and, oh yeah, I really, really like what you've done with the place. The smell is to die for, I swear. Is there anything better than the smell of sawdust?"

"Vozhdya? Yer a Kahar, then? Or whatever yon poncy name they 'ave down there?" She grouses, drawl returning as she sews the repaired ringmail back on to the leather backing-- Apparently, speaking well takes closer attention for her. "Loeden Whicker. " She hears the man out, scowl growing deeper. "Interestin'. I knew a glass worker, once. She gave me a nice vase in exchange fer some tools. Good, steady lass. As fer Darkwater.." She shrugs, grunting. "I made th' master bed, new throne, an' a table in there recently. Rich ass still felt th' need t' haggle and hem and haw. I asks ye, if y' 'ave all tha' money, what's a few thousan' more matter? Confident fella. Dashing, glib o' tongue. Wish I'da nevvir tekkin th' comission."

"Just the other day, I had the gall to ask for a discount from a struggling tailor. Later I felt horrible. I obviously don't need a discount for any reason. Poor woman, I went and appologized later," Adaer says then with a nod. "Thayndor is a nice enough person, once you get to know him, honestly."

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Loeden Whicker," Adaer adds with a smile.

"Well, ain't ye all sympathy." Loeden responds, dryly. "I don't wanna git ter know 'im. So, ye mean t' tell me tha' righ' now, ye need an arbalest an' a saber.. T' pole a barge along th' water?" She watches Adaer intently, frowing. "Tha's if I believe ye got th' ability t' use 'em, which by yer account, ye do."

"Well, right now I pole a keelboat, but soon, I'll be fighting up top, I hope," Adaer replies. "If not, I've made a big mistake in judgement of character." He then raises his brow, "Do you know how to use them? I can prove I do." He then pretends to be holding a sword and does a little light footwork and mock swordsmanship, so as to show that he might know how to use a sword, or that he's good at faking it.

She watches for a long moment, rubbing at her chin. "I believe ye on tha'. Ye were a blade, evvin' if a convict one." Standing, Loeden sets the armor aside and circles around Adaer with narrowed eyes. "Do th' moves again, slowly-like. I need t' see yer center of balance an' reach. What kinnna weapon are ye mos' comfortable wi'?"

Adaer Kahar does as Loeden says, "I'm used to things with my master hand, as I usually carry a shield..." He slows his movements and does a few thrusts and slashes. "I've been using a larger longsword of late and it just doesn't feel right to me. Plus, I can't use a shield, which is key."

Loeden reaches up to un-rack an iron rapier, holding it out to Adaer with a grunt. "Try this. Do a few moves that feel natural. Feel fer th' balance." It's an old-fashioned basket hilt sort, with a light blade honed to deadly sharpness. "Wha' kinna armor d'ye wear?"

"Ringmail, ma'am," he replies, taking the rapier. He does a few parries and a thrust, whipping it about. "I don't know about this. I've always used a sabre. It's what I like," he says.

"Tis too light fer ye." She agrees, taking the rapier back and hanging it back up. This time she pulls down the two sabres, one made of blued iron, the other of auric steel, both of slightly different lengths and balances. "Pick 'un and try it out t' show me." Loeden adds, with an uncharitable growl of a voice.

Adaer Kahar instictively reaches for the steel sabre. "What a beauty," Adaer notes as he turns the sabre over admiring the craftsmanship. He looks it over some and steps back from Loeden, testing out the balance and length of the sabre by swinging it around and moving it back and forth. "This feels so natural," he says.

"I spent a month workin' nothin' else than tha." Loeden answers, gesturing to the blade. "Cavalrymun 'ad it. 'Ee's dead now, though... An' it ended up wanderin' back inta my 'ands again, findin' t' way 'ome. If ye stick yer finger 'ere.." She gestures to a spot a little ways down along the blade, "Balances perfiktly on one finger. Tis hard t' do with larger blades. 'Ee was a bit taller than ye."

Adaer Kahar nods putting his finger near where Loeden gestured and is awed by the fact that she's right as he balances on his one finger. "What a magnificent sabre, Miss Whicker. Would you sell me a sword like this?" he asks with a kind expression on his face.

There's no rancor in her voice as she responds, "Verra unlikely, Adaer. A weapon like this.. Well." She exhales, reaching out to point out certain spots in the hilt.

"I try na' t' work wi' gemstones.. When ye do, th' mistake mos' people make is just settin' 'em in th' metal. They fall out, more often than not. For this one, I 'ad a gemcutter search until I found gems almost exactly even and of uniform size so as ta not disrupt the balance. The main inlay is jade, which I 'ad shipped up from th' forest district. What ye see of it isn't th' whole size of 'em, because instead of jus' settin' em in or usin' wire, they're actually 'eld in by the metal of th' sword itself, even the polished inlay, so tha' the gems will nivver come out unless th' sword is melted down." She gestures further along the blade, then continues.

"Th' leather I used was re-cured seven times, so it won't jus' rot away. Evera wire on th' basket of th' hilt was triple-braided before I even put it in with th' others. And most of all, wi' steel.. I make m' own. And I fold it, an' keep foldin' it, until every impurity 'tis gone an' tis incredibly 'ard. This sword will hold an edge better tha' almost anything else I've ever forged, especially any other kinna metal."

That said, she leans back and smiles sadly. "Feller 'ad it for a few weeks only. 'Ee wanted it fer a family sword, somethin' that wasn't jus' for show but would last centuries. Other than t' leather grips, I think this sword will do jus' that, so's I still work on it when I think of summat new to try. A sword like this, tis a peice of a fambly's honor itself, not a jus' a good weapon to carry aroun'."

"Well," Adaer replies. "I have a family. I plan to get married again. I plan to get my son back and have more children. My last sword was in my family for 6 generations. That's why I wanted to buy the best - I want something I can pass down through my family like the man you made this for."

"Mos' people 'ave families." Loeden responds, smirking. "Yet ye nivver even gave me yer fambly name. 'Course, if wha' I read these days is true, I don't blame ye." She adds, with a shrug. Picking the sabre back up, she reverently racks it. "Try th' iron one fer balance, why don' che?"

"I'm a Vozhd-Kahar right now. The throne will have me choose another House soon, however," Adaer replies. "House and family are very different, though. A House has hundreds of people in it. Most of which don't even know who you are. A family is a few people who love you." He picks up the iron sabre and tests it out for balance and length. "This is a nice sword, but I was hoping for steel."

"Cannae 'ave th' steel." Loeden responds, with a shrug. "T'will give in an' sell ye th' iron fer seven thousan', jus ta get ye out of m' hair. Tis importan' ta know tha' I stand by wha' I make, so I nivver charge fer repairs fer th' first five years of ownership, no matter how summat gets broken." She smiles, brusquely. "I see some interestin' damage ta things. Like th' fella 'oo was movin' a bed I made 'im, but it broke free of th' back of th' cart and got dragged across the cobblestones of the bazaar."

"Please," Adaer replies. "I need the steel one." His eyes glimmering like burnished iron as he pleads. He gets down on his knees in his silk pants, getting them dirty and possible damaging the expensive garment. "I'll take good care of it, I swear by all that is Holy, I will. I must have it or something like it."

"Ye really don't like ta take no fer an answer, do ye?" Loeden queries, mystified and incensed. She looks down at him, nose wrinkling in distaste. "Must 'ave it, eh? Wot part of no don't ye understand?"

"You said you could retire tomorrow," Adaer replies. "Well, forge me a new steel sword and I'll wait. It doesn't need the gems."

The woman's laugh is bitter, now, as much of the good will fades from her expression. She heads back over towards the counter with a bleak expression. "I try ta make an 'xception, and it's still na enough.. Yah, y' really had me going for a bit, there. I must say, I'm 'mpressed at yer skill in manipulation. " She sits down on the stool heavily, reaching up to rub at her forehead with a hand. "But, show ye a pretty thing that you decide you mus' 'ave, an' th' whole act falls apart."

Adaer Kahar stands and looks away from Loeden, rolling his eyes. He then looks back toward her with a small sigh. He replies, "I can get an iron sword anywhere, though, Miss Whicker. That steel sword, though, isn't just a pretty things. That's perfection. That's art... If you don't sell it, you must have it displayed for the public to see."

"If ye kin git it somewhere else, yee'r welcome ta do so." She responds, mulishly. "In fact, I'd much rather ye did. Keeps competition good an' fair in th' market, eh? Well, it's been mighty informationative.. Info.. Informative." With a grunt, she reaches for an unstrung shardwood longbow.

"Alright, you win," Adaer replies. "I feel entitled, I suppose. Maybe like I'm owed nice things; I deserve them - when that might not be the case. My family, honestly isn't any more superior to yours. We aren't born smarter or stronger. Just richer and more influencial. I give up. You win. I obviously can't prove to you I deserve anything, because I already have everything. I'm at the disadvantage here. If I had come in my armor, perhaps, I would have had a fighting chance... But fine silk, velvet and leather...? Not a chance."

"Bloody right." Loeden agrees, leaning back on her stool with an unyielding expression. "Actually, ye talk fancy too.. Tisn't just the outfit that could give ye away, I suppose, but yon diffrn't classes 'ave differen ways of talkin', an' mos' people don' notice, when that's what they were born ta. Well, g'bye."

"I suppose," Adaer replies with a grim expression. "You are a powerful woman, Miss Loeden Whicker. Don't let anyone tell you that you aren't. Good day. Light Keep."

"I nivver needed anyone ta tell me, Adaer." She responds, alto low. "Else I'd be dead in a Shadow District gutter by now, na' set up in my comfy shop 'ere."

"You have beaten Fastheld, indeed," Adaer replies. "A machine set up to destroy people like you, and you've rose above. I admire that. I was born on top and you've surpassed me. Nothing I can do can change that."

"Are ye still talkin'?" Loeden queries, expression growing irritable as she looks up from polishing the longbow. "Shove off."

"Just tickling your ear, Miss Whicker," Adaer replies. He then turns and heads out the door without another word.

''Return to Season 4 (2006)