615. The Promises

615. The Promises

Omen: 10, 15

“So, this is Sam’s Scales...”

The building was a small wooden shack in one corner, with quite a breadth of space of greenery between it and the other nearby buildings. A sharp smell in the air tickled Adam’s nostrils, though it was kept at bay by the nearby flowers. A sign board hung in the air, that of a large scale with a large tilted S painted within its edges.

Adam pushed the door open, the bell ringing above him to declare his entrance. The smell struck him sharply, causing the Half Elf to wince. To his surprise, the store was much larger on the inside, essentially one long room, with basic shirts of scales tied to wooden posts.

An older man, perhaps in his sixties, sat in one corner, sewing scales together. His salt and pepper hair was cut short, though he wore a thick goatee, which was black as night. He was shorter than a typical Aldishman, and though he was thin, his fingers were thick and heavily scarred.

“Mister Sam?” Adam asked.

“I don’t know about no mister, but I’m Sam,” the man replied, staring at the stranger who wore a purple breastplate. “Who are you?”

“Adam,” he replied. “I passed through the town a while ago and your nephew, Garry, made me promise to buy some scale mail after the tournament. I placed well, so I’m flush with coin.” Adam eyed up the scale all around, most of it scale on leather.

“How well did you place?”

“Third.”

“Third?”

“Yeah. They call me Purple Adam, I hear.”

“Didn’t pay attention to the tournament,” Sam admitted, cutting the string once he was done tying it up. “Was too busy working.”

“Can’t disrespect that,” Adam said, nodding his head slowly.

“You covering your ears because you’re a leaf ear?”

“How could you tell?” Adam’s forehead twitched.

“You’re a handsome bastard.”

“Will you deny my coin?”

“No. Coin’s the same, whether it’s from an Aldishman, an Aswadian,” Sam said, before his eyes caught sight of Adam once more, “or an Elf.”

“Only half.”

“What are you lookin’ for?” He eyed up the puthral armour. “Don’t know what I can offer anyone wearing Iyrman steel.”

“It’s not steel, it’s-,”

“Puthral, yes, it was an expression.”

“I’m not good with expressions, being a leaf ear and all.” Adam chuckled.

Sam placed his scales to one side, and leaned back on his stool, up against the wall. “I can’t offer you anything better.”

“Then I won’t be buying anything for myself, but I could buy something for someone else, can’t I?”

“You can. I’ll need measurements to make sure it’ll fit, but I’ll suppose it’s a gift?”

“Something like that. Measurements aren’t too important, it’ll be enchanted.”

“Enchanted?”

“That’s right.” Adam flashed a smile towards the older Aldishman. “I’m Executive Adam, from the United Kindom. We work for an enchanter, and I would like to procure your finest work for them to enchant. It might be put up for sale, but chances are, it’ll be gifted to someone very special.”

“...” Sam stared at the Half Elf. “My finest work is pricey.”

“I placed third, so I’m flush with coin.”

‘Third? So he’s got at least a thousand, no doubt.’ Sam thought, eyeing the Half Elf up. Puthral armour, a fine axe at his side, he wasn’t a nobody, that was for sure. “What are you looking for?”

“Do you work with Dragon scales?” Adam asked, before wincing.

“Yes,” Jurot replied.

“Well, alright...”

“Who is the scale armour for?” Jurot asked while Sam used his string to take his measurements.

“It’s a gift for someone,” Adam replied. “I’m keeping it a secret.”

“Okay.”

‘That was it?’ Sam thought. He began to grow curious, but he knew not to ask too many questions. They were paying him good coin, and he wasn’t going to ruin such a chance of making extra coin.

“I’ve brought fifty gold, and once you’re done, head to the guild and hand the armour there. They’ll pay you the rest of the gold once they check it.”

“Alright.”

“For the sake of future business, if I wanted basic scale armour, the full set, how much would that cost, and how many days would it take?”

“About fifty gold, about ten days,” Sam replied.

“Good to know.” Adam held out his hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Sam.”

“You too, Adam,” Sam replied, holding out his hand, shaking Adam’s.

Adam and Jurot stepped outside. Adam inhaled the fresh air, until the back of his nose stung, and he coughed. “Is scale armour that good?” Adam whispered. “I feel like it’s pretty effective for money, and it’s pretty quick too.”

“It is decent.”

“Might have to equip the future warriors with scale armour if it comes down to it.”

“If they are not strong, scale mail is reasonable,” Jurot confirmed.

“Cool, cool. I’ll think about it. Rick and the others have some nice chain mail and stuff, so we probably shouldn’t get scale for them.” Adam wondered if he could get something for them to increase their Defence. ‘I wonder if there’s an easier way to equip my workers. He can do what, forty or so a year? I doubt I’ll gain that many a year, so I guess it’s not too bad as a way to equip them. Spears and shields are pretty easy to grab too, so if I’m in a pinch it’s not a bad idea.’

The pair returned to the guild, where most of their group relaxed. Adam eyed up the armour the group wore, and his eyes fell to Vonda. ‘I should probably equip our Priest with plate mail too. I’ve got enough enough to equip her, but would she feel mad? She probably has enough money after betting too, probably? Would she rather donate it to her temple?’

“What are you thinking so deeply about?” Vonda asked.

“Something stupid.”

“Yes.”

Adam narrowed his eyes. “You’re lucky you’re our designated lifesaver, otherwise we’d have a problem.” Adam slowly smiled, chuckling lightly.

Vonda continued to smile at him. “So we will leave in the morning?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you done with your business?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you need to buy scale armour?”

“I gave my word.”

“Who is the scale armour for?”

“It’ll be a gift to someone special.”

“A special someone?”

“No, someone special. I don’t think I have a special someone.” Adam leaned back. ‘I do need a mother for my kids. Thank Baktu they haven’t asked about their mother. They’re a little young so far, so I have what, one or two years before they start asking? Three years if I’m lucky.’

Vonda decided against interrupting Adam’s thoughts, seeing as he was thinking about his children.

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