Sharks and Sharps

Log Info

• Title: Sharks and Sharps
• Emitter: Warrick
• Characters: Warrick, Schara
• Place: Lower Trades
• Time: February 24th, 2023
• Summary: Warrick is busy taking care of his equipment at a workshop, Schara running into him and offering aid to sharpen some blades. Digging a bit, he learns Schara has something hanging over them, and while he can't particularly much about it, he refers him to his old squad captain, Slatesteel, who owns the workshop. After some back and forth, Schara is brought on for a trial run tomorrow, though the artificer's mouth almost gets them a loss of a potential job. Almost.

Midday, Lower Trades

The sleet and snow of the past few days has finally abated, leaving with it a cloudless, brilliant sky. Still, the icy chill in the air skirts snow across the ground. But in the Trades, the heat of forges and workshops keeps a heat and warmth going that an inn could provide.

Amongst one open faced forge and workshop, a middle aged human in a sleeveless shirt has taken over a few workbenches. Armor, weapons, and a large crossbow rest amongst them, himself tending to a dagger with a whetstone. He's working up a sweat due to the heat from a forge in a connecting room, but its clear he's in flow with his work.

Above, a sign dangles, 'Slatesteel Services'. A rent-a-workshop.

The lower trade districts were a place that Schara frequently found herself in, where the quality of commodities was still good, but there were more deals to be had to get things slightly cheaper. However, on this occasion, the elf didn't particularly feel like shopping.

A rather exhausted looking elf in a winter jacket wandered the streets, looking around at the various shops, but not stopping long at any of them. At least until they spied one of the workshops, or rather, whoever was working there. Schara quickly walked over, and did their best to wave to the man working there. "Oh, hello, mister Warrick. Are you doing alright? I didn't know you knew how to work in a workshop, but I do not know that much about the things you are capable of, to be honest." They greet.

Warrick buries his face into the crook of his left arm, the tattoo of Serriel prominent as he wipes his face free of sweat. It lowers, revealing Schara. The man takes a beat. "Schara," he remembers. They weren't too well acquainted aside from talk here and there. "I'm well. Doing some maintenance after taking on a guild job."

Sunken eyes take the figure in, and he points the dagger tip over his shoulder towards a chair nearby. "Feel free to rest." Bringing up the dagger, he inspects the edges carefully before nodding to himself and setting it aside, picking up another one. "Just a guy that knows a thing or two about weapons, nothing crazy," he elucidates about aspect he's fluent with.

"Oh, did I miss a guild job?" The elf asks, before rather uncharacteristically cursing under their breath before they take the offer and half collapse into the chair. "Sorry, I should have stopped by the guild more regularly to see if they had any job postings. Do you want some help looking over your weapons? That's quite a few, are you doing maintenance for people you know in the guard, or something?" She asks, gesturing with one wooden arm at some of the weapons.

"Don't apologize. You're not bound to take every notice on the board," Warrick dryly comments, testing the edge of this dagger against the pad of his thumb. He eyes Schara for a moment. "Sure..." he slowly says. "Can you hold a whetstone? My blades need sharpening. The weather isn't kind to steel."

He shakes his head, taking out a dagger and a whetstone. "No. This is my equipment. I use it all. Just because I have special training in archery doesn't meant I'm to shirk basic training. Here." The man offers a dagger and sharpening stone.

"I'm not apologizing for not taking it, I'm, ah, it's not important." Schara begins to respond, and sighs. "I guess a dagger is a bit small for a full sized whetstone, I can help with that."

"Most people don't have more than one dagger on them, and you have more than just a dagger in addition to your crossbow. Regardless, it is not my business." The elf continues with a shrug, taking the stone and dagger awkwardly in hand and setting them down nearby. "Did you find out what you needed to about taxes?"

Warrick hands the two objects over before he picks up his unloaded crossbow. Grabbing an L-shaped tool, he pops it into a bolt and slowly starts to unwind it, the tension in the limbs growing more lax. "Thanks."

He glances to the elf once more. "Most citizens wouldn't, no. Even most guards. I used to man the walls and got special training. So my equipment needs are more varied. It's easier to chuck a dagger in the thick of it than to reload this thing. Like last time. I drop this crossbow more often than using it. Mostly used for the opening volley."

The human nods slowly. "Yes. I think I've brushed up enough on the subject matter to my liking." Silence hangs, it deliberate as he unstrings his crossbow.

And, a shred of humanity reveals itself. "I've seen your look," he intones gruffly, carefully winding the string up to put away. "I'm no stranger to bad things. If you want to talk, talk."

The elf jams their hand against the table, and twists the arm several times, until the hand pops off at the wrist. Schara spends some time fishing out a large clamp out of their jacket, and they can begin work on sharpening the blade.

She pauses, and sighs, before continuing on with the work. "I thought, you know a lot about taxes, and you're a city guard, so you know most of the business in the city. What do you know about moneylenders, Warrick?"

Warrick pops open a jar of some kind of viscous lacquer, him taking a weathered looking rag and using it to apply a thin layer to the wood of the well-worn crossbow. He frowns. "Depends. Moneylenders, like banks and financial institutions? Or 'moneylenders'-" he does airquotes, "-with loansharks and syndicates? The former I know a bit about, the latter... I may be out of date on the information."

Schara lifts up the dagger to inspect it, looking at the edge before returning it to the stone. "I don't know much about moneylenders, to be honest. I was just, not the banks, the ones who would give out a loan to someone who they are uncertain is capable of paying it back." The elf answers, looking slightly more visibly worried. "What's a loanshark? That's not like, a shark they use threaten people with, is it? They make a lot of threats, but I've never been threatened with a shark before."

Warrick stops his work abruptly. "They make a lot of thr-"

The man buries his face into his free hand, sighing deeply. "That is called a loan shark, Schara. You borrow money and give it back, and if you don't give it back, they tend to do nasty things, like take your possessions or harm."

His equipment fixing put on hold, he rifles around in his bag near his feet and pulls out a journal. He flips through a few pages before reading a few entries, then shuts it. "You pinch copper. You have been for some time. Is that why you cheap out on meals at the Fernwood? To pay back a loanshark?" he asks rather pointedly.

"Oh, I see. They didn't call themselves that, but I can understand why they would not." Schara notes, freezing up and stopping the sharpening they were working on for the other edge of the dagger. "I'm trying to pay them back, I have been, really." The elf answers quietly. "But it's never enough, the interest was already high, but every other week there's some different additional fee or rate changes that keep catching me off guard. So I've been saving whatever I can to make sure I can still keep up with things."

"So yes, you have," Warrick sighs, getting his question answered in a round about way. "Yes. That's what they do; entrap naive folk into a high-interest loan that is near impossible to pay back. You've probably been lucky doing some guild work, so it keeps them off your back from doing anything drastic."

He resumes coating his crossbow. "So. You need a bit of steady coin to keep them off you. Guild work is good, but that gives them incentive to keep siphoning you." He eyes the back door to the forge beyond. "... I wonder if she's feeling generous...

"I have been lucky, I guess. In some way." Schara admits with a small sigh. "But then I wasn't able to work for a while since I was sick from working, and things were getting bad again. I should have known that it wasn't going to work out, but I didn't have any other choice at the time."

"Ah, sorry, Warrick." She apologizes as she returns to sharpening the weapon. "But then, I got a warning from the lender, or I guess loanshark. Apparently someone just bought my debt, can people do that? Why would someone pay off that, and ask for the gold immediately?"

Warrick is idly taking care of his crossbow, this time the rag is replaced with a tiny can of oil for the mechanisms. But he's watching the elf. "People buy debts. It is a way to move the burden of debt, as well as gain possession of potential interest accrued."

He winds the crank slowly. Clack. Clack. Clack. "Either they want the interest, want you on the hook, or are looking to do something if you cannot."

Another glance to the door. "Look. I'm not going to ask why you took a loan, or who you owe money to. I'm not part of the Watch anymore. But, I can ask a friend if they need help around their workshop for minor things. At least then, its a steady stream of gold for whoever's asking?"

"Oh. So they're counting on the fact that I'll continue to be unable to pay it off completely, aren't they?" Schara asks, looking defeated at the thought. "Or they're going to try to force me to do something I don't want to. I think that's probably even worse."

"I just don't want anyone else to get in trouble either, but, a job is normal, isn't it? Maybe it would at least help, if I could do that, right?" They answer, following the glance to the door. "Do you know the person who works here?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Warrick says bluntly. Slate eyes glance over them, the wooden arms, the tools. "But. You're resourceful. Naive, yes. But smart. You'll be able to figure this out. Since whatever this arrangement you have isn't signed and is done through law, you don't have law protections. But... if you've paid back principle and some interest, you may have to... deal with it."

He starts to restring his crossbow. "And by deal with it, since you are you, I mean threatening them. Or following through on threats. If they have you like this, who else do they have like this?"

The man shakes his head, getting that line out thought out. "Regardless- hey Cap!" he calls out. "Get your short ezol out here!"

There's some clanking in the forge, some dwarvish cursing, then the door slams open. "Oi! Wha' the skelg do ye want, ya torjof tikund?" A Khzad woman, middle in age with some grey in her red hair and ragged scarring on the side of her face holds a hammer in one hand and tongs in the other, blacksmith's gloves and apron covered in soot.

The elf has met this dwarf before. From the camp.

Warrick gestures to Schara. "You said you need more bodies in your place, yes? Well, here. She's good with tools. Seen it myself."

The Khzad woman swivels to Schara, squinting at them down, up, over the arms, back to their face. "D'ya make them ya'self?" she asks bluntly, gesturing to the wooden arms.

"That's, no, I'm not going to let anything like that happen ever again. I don't think I could handle it, so I'd just have to, threaten someone? But that doesn't sound right even if they are working outside of the law, and I don't want to hurt someone, but they seemed more than willing to hurt me if anything happened, and they might be hurting other people in the process." The elf rambles quickly, before she sighs, and bows her head. "I'll see what I can do, I guess."

The elf quite literally jumps out of their seat at the commotion, and she bows to the Khazad. "Oh, hello, miss Slatesteel, I saw the sign but didn't realize this was your workshop, I did not want to assume." Schara greets. "I did make these arms myself, and they're functional, for the most part."

"If someone's going to hurt you, there is nothing wrong with hurting them back. Especially if they hurt other people," Warrick says a bit firmly just before the door bursts open.

Slatesteel puts a hand on her hip, a bushy brow quirked up high. "Aye. This is. Opened it not long 'go. Didn' realize I had a reputation already."

"Hard not to," Warrick snipes, finishing stringing his crossbow.

"Shut ya trap, Retz," <Khazdul> she huffs at him in her native tongue before going back to trade. "Aight. Loo'. Who are ye, what can ye do, do I know ye, and can ye hold a hammer?"

The elf just nods back once to Warrick, before her attention is back on the dwarf, any remaining frown chased away as they attempt to put on a good face for a potential employer. "I was out near the edge of the forest when the fortifications were being put up, you may not recognize me because of the armor and different arms and the fact that I sounded completely different. My name is Schara, and it's good to meet you again, miss Slatesteel."

"As for what I am capable of, well, I'm not capable of holding a hammer with these arms, no, the strain would cause the would to deform and potentially break. But when I am using my other arms that function with artifice, I can, but I can only do particularly strenuous hammer work for a limited amount of time. But any finishing work, fine detail or jewelry work is possible for much longer."

The khzad woman scratches her head with the haft of her smithing hammer. Then- "Oh! Ya th' one that got the direct hit with the catapult!"

Warrick blinks.

Slatesteel grins. "Aight. I like ye already. Hmm. Hmm. Aight, yeah. I can see ye finishin' up what I'm workin' on. Doin' a lot of usual orders. Basic swords, weapons, ballistae bolts, so on. Stuff that I can smash out fast but each piece needs a once over. Can do that an' cleanin' up. Say... a gold a day?"

"Never paid me that much," Warrick comments.

"Because I was makin' mo' bolts for ya blasted arse!" she wags the hammer at him. Despite the back and forth, there's a faint smile underneath the soot and sweat.

"Ah, right, I hope that everything is still functioning properly, there." Schara nods. "It was a good thing it was already set up at the time."

The elf blinks surprised that it was already seeming like a possibility. "Y-yes, of course, miss Slatesteel! I know how to do most work that would be necessary for that, flighting bolts, sharpening and honing, and any rivets or other fastenings I could manage, along with anything else you would need me to do for that. If I need to learn, I can learn."

"Although, if it is a bit much, you don't need to pay me in excess. How often would you need me in here, and for how long?"

"Course it is. I ran it," Slatesteel cockily enthuses.

Warrick retensions his crossbow. "Slatesteel is my old squad captain. She was siege engineer."

"Still am, vorgevi!" she snorts at him before setting her tools down and crossing her arms, now turned to Schara. "I ain't ever heard nobody bitchin' about being paid /too/ much. I decide what ya work is worth, and if ya can hit a stupid skithjupa with a catapult dead on and make all that artificer stuff go? It's worth somethin'."

She takes her gloves off. "Can ye start tomorrow? Round dawn. Day's done round.." She leans out to look at the sun. "Two hours from now? I work hard but I like tae relax."

"And on a few days, off a couple days. Gotta give ye a test run first," she adds.

"A siege engineer? It seems your squad had a lot of people in it, I didn't even consider they might need a siege engineer." Schara notes, giving Warrick a curious look. "But yes, of course! I'm just thinking that I know how business can be for smaller businesses, and I wouldn't want to ask for too much or anything that could cause trouble because of it." The artificer answers. "But if you feel it fair, I'd be happy to help! I can start work tomorrow at dawn, I'll just push my morning exercise earlier and I'll be able to make it for then. I'll do my best to make sure I'll be able to help!"

"It did," both Warrick and Slatesteel say in tandem, the former in their usual dry tone, and the latter lacking enthusiasm.

But Slatesteel picks right back up. "Oi. I'm runnin' me shop. I kno' what I can and cannae afford." It looks like she's about to harp more on Schara, but she abates as the wage is accepted. "Good!"

But then she frowns. "No. Don'. Yae gonna get in here flaggered. Come rested, don't want sloppy work. Thi' job is gonna get yae tired and sore. If ya wanna work out, do eet after. If yae got the energy left fore it."

"Any questions, lass?" Slatesteel poses, pulling on her gloves once more.

"Yes, good." Schara sighs, at least realizing she was potentially close to messing things up. "If you're, right, yes, that makes sense." The elf nods. "I need to focus on the work I'm doing, not everything around it."

The artificer considers something for a moment, before shaking her head. "I have a lot of questions, but some aren't relevant, and the rest can be saved for another time. If you have a shipping manifest for any metals you use here though, I would love to be able to take a look over the types of iron and steel and other metals used here so I know how best to handle them."

Slatesteel gives the elf a weird look. "No. I dinnae know ye. Tha's like askin' ta see my ledger. We'll work on what I tell ye tomorrow. I'm treatin' you like you ain't work on this befo' so I kno' where ya at. Retz, you sure this'un's good?"

Warrick just gives her a glance.

"Hmph. Fine. I'll give ye a shot. Tomorrow mornin', we'll go ova some stuff. I ran a tight squad, so I run a tight shop. Anywho' I got stuff cookin', betta get back to it. Nice ta meet you, Schara."

With that, she shoulders her way back into the forge, a blast of heat coming through the door before it shuts behind her.

Warrick picks up his armor, a wire brush, and carefully begins cleaning off the metal. "And there. Hopefully that keeps whatever it is off your back for a little bit. Just don't disappoint her."

"Ah, right, I guess it would be like reading a ledger, even if I don't know why that would be a problem. Very well, that's all I wanted to ask about. Nice to meet you miss Slatesteel, I'll make sure to be on time tomorrow." The elf responds quickly with another nod and bow before the khazad departs. "I, it should help a lot, yes, thank you so much for your help mister Warrick." She adds, bowing again to the guard this time. "I can't say for certain, but I will do everything I can within reasonable limits not to disappoint her. I just hope that the work will be busy enough to keep my mind off of various things."

Warrick simply grunts. "You're welcome. Just don't get too lost in the work and overdo it. She and I both know that much too well."

He closes his eyes. Takes a quiet breath. "... much too well."

-End Scene-