Decisions, decisions... [Weapons Stall/Open]

[tarra]

Katar left the organized chaos of the Gather behind as she found herself drawn almost instinctually to the racks and stacks of pointed metal glinting at the Weapons and Defenses Stall. There wasn't any particular reason for her being there; there were, in fact prettier things at other stalls. Like that lovely winter velvet cloak peeking out of the Weaver's, or those elegant little blobs of glass winking from the Glasscrafter's stall. The hand-bells and those odd tricorn hats caught the eye too, compounded by that delicious mystery surround the Eggs Stall, and those pretty little sculptures at the Stonecrafter's, or the Jewellry Stall...

But she was at the Weapons and Defenses section, for no particular reason or rhyme other than the fact that she had wanted to come here. Her brown eyes were bright and round as she looked up the neat rows of items on display, and her fingers toyed with the pouch at her belt as she eyed the rows of glinting spears longingly. Moving down the line, she found herself drawn to the knives and the daggers. Belt knives were relatively cheap, and easy to use too, if one had the hang of them; though on a dragon she preferred a weapon with more reach, on the ground she was good with her long knives, and could shift a fight more elegantly and efficiently with them than other weapons. But it was a blade hung alongside the smaller knives and daggers that brought her one step closer, enticingly; and with a thin smile she picked it up.

The dirk lay balanced in her hands, the clean smooth feel of its scabbard daring her to loosen it, to prise it out and stand admiring the crisp cleanness of the blade winking at her. She put it back with an effort, reluctance swaying her despite the movement. She looked back up at all around her, the glint in her eyes that of longing: there were so many things she wanted here! A new pair of goggles perhaps, to help with her vision in flight; or a spear, for throwing as much as stabbing in an aerial fight; or a crossbow or a new knife, or even a set of armguards. And of course that beautiful dirk, with its light, polished finish. This was shaping up to be quite a headache. She took herself on again, stepping around the stall browsing, if only to hide her complete interest in everything up for offer...

[Requiem]

Now what did stallkeepers usually do when potential customers wandered by? Whatever it was, the two men playing chess off in one corner behind the tables? Definitely not it. The taller of the two took a pawn with his rook, glancing at Katar as the other smith scowled, wondering where best to move his knight before he lost it. Yes, both were smiths. In fact, almost everything spread out on the tables had been made by them personally, and neither brother felt the need to promote their wares. The quality spoke for itself. "Looks like she's not your typical curious holder, Bhanu," he commented quietly. Bhanu's eyes flashed toward her, before returning to the board. "Southern women," the man sneered, curling his lip. "Delusions of grandeur. Likely to cut off a finger."

The first smith leaned back in his chair, watching her more curiously as his brother finally made a move. "Bipin? Bipin, it's your turn." But Bipin was more interested in the particular dirk she'd chosen to look at. "Bhanu, she seems to have taken an interest in Father's dirk, of all the ones here." This actually caught the smaller man's attention, and he frowned her direction. Their father was a master smith, and unlike the two senior journeymen, his pieces were of such quality that his name was known in every major hold from High Reaches to Nerat. Bhanu whistled low, softly enough that it would only reach his brother's ears. "She might know a thing of two after all. Dragonrider, you think?" There was a darkness behind the words. Bhanu's dislike for the breed was well-known - undoubtedly why his Bipin had been sent with him.

Bipin shrugged. "Does it matter? As long as she has marks..." Watching her slip away, his eyes narrowed and he stood, the tall man coming up beside her before she could wander far. He was a well-built man; working a forge tended to do that. Still, his height managed to distribute the muscles quite a bit so he wasn't as intimidating as he might have been. Dark brown eyes with that curious almost red coloring to them coursed down the woman astutely. Dragonrider, yes. Probably. "You take good care of your blades," he commented quietly, nimble fingers plucking the shorter of the two and testing the heft, the line. A wry smile touched his lips. "Not a bad make, either." He flipped it, presenting it hilt-first back to her. "Getting a little worn, though. The dirk you were looking at before - I watched my father make it. You won't find much like it. Definitely not here."

The Telgar smith nodded back to his brother. "Bhanu isn't too fond of armed women - or dragonriders. Took after Father in his fiery temper. But Selenitas seems to be making a name for itself, and it's to our advantage for people who know their blades to be carrying our work. So I was thinking...you'd be doing us a service. I can do you one too. A mark and a half, and you can have that master-crafted dirk." He slipped his hands in his pockets. "Up to you."

[Ember]

Rumour of northern Smiths bringing their wares to the Gatehr at Southern had lured Iskierka to the festive occasion. She normally hated such things with so many people but her Wingleader had ordered her to get a range weapon and so she would. She'd already decided on throwing knives since she was partial to blades. Ioth had, of course, obliged her by giving her a ride to the Gather and she'd left him fidgeting about on the beach while she went in search of the weapon's stall.

She had her black hair in two runnertails, each set low on her head and hung in front of her shoulders. Two small streaks of brown and a pair of yellow-ish eyes revealed the presence of a salamandyr clinging to the right runnertail. Iskierka hadn't managed to convince the little creature to stay at the weyr and she'd been unable to dislodge Rhino from her clothes where he'd originally been. The brown had been whining about how she wouldn't let him near any other females since arriving.

Mine cruel muchly! How ladies see Rhino so great if not allowed to seeee? Iskierka actually rolled her eyes and what have told him, in no uncertain terms, to shut up except that she caught sight of the glint of metal and knew it could be nothing other than the Smith stall. So instead of snapping at the brown she settled for a quick, "Shush Rhino. Look, there's a woman there. Flirt with her if you must." A distracted Rhino meant she could focus on what she had to do.

She approached the stall and glanced at the other bluerider and the stallkeeper she was talking to. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she realized she actually recognized the woman, and not in a good way either. She'd fought with the woman once. Iskierka was sure of that. There wasn't enough recognition for her to have been a Benden rider...so that meant she was a Fort mutt. She might have just come back later if it wasn't for Rhino cooing, Loooove. Lovely love love. Name?

Iskierka sighed mentally as he crawled over to her left shoulder to get closer to Katar. She switched her attention to the throwing daggers to ignore the feelings of adoration for the complete stranger standing nearby. It seemed they came in sets of three. She looked them over and saw a couple of promising looking sets. She didn't know much about throwing blades though. The pair of daggers at her thighs were meant for stabbing and some slicing, not throwing.

[tarra]

(OOC> Not sure if I read Bippin's actions right, but I can correct if it's wrongly interpreted, just let me know And Ember, glad to see you here! XD )


Katar sensed his approach from the corner of her eye, and so when a tall and well-built individual loomed beside her she did not startle and shy or jerk, but instead looked up with mild curiosity in her eyes. If there was one thing to be said for the rider of Sonarth, it was that first impressions did not always come off well for her because of her terse alertness; that sense that she was always wary and aware, on her toes much as a cat on the prowl might be. It had a tendency to make others nervous as well, and doubly so when the bluerider startled from being approached from an odd angle.

Fortunately for Bippin, however, she had not been caught off guard this time, and so was cordial (almost friendly) as he spoke. When he reached for her knives, however, she nearly jumped to fend him off; one hand twitched and began to rise, and it was only with an effort that she restrained herself, reminding her fighting instincts firmly that the man held no hint of hostility as he took the blade and tested it.

"You take good care of your blades. Not a bad make, either."

She managed a smile for him as he returned her knife, though her eyes were cold as she tucked it back at her belt, in the sheath where it belonged. Well, at least he was brisk and to the point, and didn't seem to mind speaking of blades to a women younger than himself. There was a certain commonality to people of the sword that made it that much easier to communicate with them, and she found that she appreciated it now.

"Getting a little worn, though. The dirk you were looking at before - I watched my father make it. You won't find much like it. Definitely not here."

She shrugged, "It is a good make, and well-balanced; I've seen better though." Or at least, she had seen better in the North - the weapons down here were substandard, suffering unabashedly from a lack of materials and expertise both. Which might go some way to explaining why she had made a beeline for the Weapons stall on her first entry into the main Gather shopping areas. Her eyes followed Bippin's line of sight as he indicated his brother.

"Bhanu isn't too fond of armed women - or dragonriders. Took after Father in his fiery temper. But Selenitas seems to be making a name for itself, and it's to our advantage for people who know their blades to be carrying our work. So I was thinking...you'd be doing us a service. I can do you one too. A mark and a half, and you can have that master-crafted dirk."

Incredulity glinted in the bluerider's eyes for an instant before she could mask it beneath her usual coolness. A mark and a half? That was a full mark off the price - and it meant she might be able to get those goggles she had been eyeing as well, or the projectiles she had been thinking to get . She glanced up at the smith as he concluded.

"Up to you."

Slowly, uncertainly, she reached to pick up the dirk once more, turning it over in her hands. It was of a fine make indeed, honed and balanced as only a master craftsman might hope to create. Drawing it again, she tested its weight more purposefully, trying it against the strength of her arm and the fit of her fingers around its hilt. It was a good match - the craftsmanship of the smith that made it clearly extended beyond aesthetics. She smiled....an was abruptly interrupted by an odd sound echoing in her mind.

Loooove. Lovely love love. Name?

Now that did startle her, and she jerked a little as she tracked and stared in the general direction it had come from. It was a salamandyr, perched on the shoulder of a nearby women and cooing at her. Almost immediately she felt Sonarth's disgust through her astonishment and made haste to bar the 'mandyr's affections from her dragon's perception. It was only then that recognition struck, and with a raised brow she noted that the other woman was familiar, and not in a good way. The memory came unbidden - a day of flight and fire, dancing with death in the skies as a myriad of riders faced off in battle. They had not killed each other that day, but there had been close shaves. Like Iskierka, she would rather have kept her distance, but Rhino seemed to have other ideas.

"Your 'mandyr seems to have taken a liking to me," it was hard to speak - her throat seemed to have constricted at the very thought of saying something to a former rival, and one that might have killed her in past turns if the chance arose, "You might do well to call him in line."

Tightening her jaw to maintain herself, she turned back to Bippin, "I think I'll take it - it is a fine make as you said, and a bargain at that price," the cordial smile returned to her features as she began to undo the pouch at her belt, "And perhaps a set of throwing knives as well - I trust your make is as good as your famed father's?"

[Requiem]

Bhanu had taken to watching his brother and that woman through slitted eyes, his jaw working slightly as he saw that slight tensing of hers. Had Bipin seen it? Hard to tell; his brother wasn't the type to show much of a reaction to a threat, small or large. He was chill in a family full of heat, and as such most of their family didn't have much use for Bipin, regarding him with a certain detached interest as they might watch a tunnelsnake skipping over the sands of Igen while trying to avoid touching the hot sand. Bhanu personally found it silly that his brother was dismissed by the men of the family simply because he didn't let emotions rule him. Oh well. Bhanu did plenty enough of that for the both of them. He was contemplating just how much he could get away with here, out in public, to demonstrate his displeasure at the woman for momentarily considering an aggressive mood toward his brother, when the second woman walked up.

This one he pegged for a dragonrider right off the bat, and he tsked under his breath. Of course dragonriders would be the ones most likely to appreciate a good weapon (that's why the Telgar brothers were here, after all) but why did it have to be all the females? And who let females into Hatchings, anyway? Dragon babies clearly couldn't be trusted to have good sense. No woman fought as well as a man. They weren't meant to, frail things, and belonged at home safely tucked away and surrounded by children. He had no problem with women in their proper place. You didn't see men attempting to pop out little rugrats, though, so where did the women get the audacity to take up a blade?

"Bipin!" he called lowly, not bothering to hide the exasperation in his voice as the man attempted to give the first woman one of their dad's pieces. What, was he crazy? His brother held up a finger. The tall man was in the midst of closing up a deal, couldn't Bhanu see that? He ignored the approach of the other woman entirely until the voice touched his mind, eyes flicking toward...what was that in her hair? A brow arched. The first woman called it a mandyr...he was about to say something to get the conversation back on track, but Katar had already returned her attention to the weapons. Good.

Casually, Bipin reached for the scroll rolled up in the corner, flicking through to the page he needed and marking off the dirk on the inventory. He spoke while still browsing the scroll. "I'm afraid it's a bit early yet for the students to be surpassing the master. We're both senior journeymen recognized by Smithcrafthall, however, and guarantee all our weaponry and armor." He glanced up with a small half-smile. "Though, if I'm to be honest, Bhanu's small blades rival our father's. Might I make a suggestion?" Without pausing, he drifted over to a fine set of three tucked toward the back. Gesturing to them with the charcoal, he commented, "Some of our better metal went into these. They'll keep their sharpness longer - and Bhanu made them." Bipin's specialty happened to be the more exotic weapons... "Though personally I find the stars to be more versatile. Have you ever handled one?"

"Bipin!"

Sighing, he flashed a smile at Katar. "One moment." Walking over, he glanced at the board, moved a bishop a couple spots forward. "Check." Turning back and ignoring Bhanu's smoldering gaze, he cocked his head to one side, awaiting Katar's response.

Bhanu snarled silently. Bipin wasn't really going to make him talk to the other woman with the freakazoid bug, was he? Eyes slitting, he moved a couple pieces on the board while Bipin's back was turned. There, better. The man stood and, stuffing his large hands in his pockets and approaching the tables from behind sulkily, he glared at Iskierka. "So what are you doing here?" The sound of his brother clearing his throat made his scowl deepen. "Can I help you?" he intoned flatly. "Maybe with a little pest removal?" Bhanu added under his breath, eyeing the ugly little talking insect.

[Ember]

Iskierka eyed the other bluerider as she spoke to her. Couldn't she have just ignored the brown salamandyr and left her alone? Instead the mutt had the audacity to give her a suggestion. Her attitude soured even further and she responded with, "I didn't realize being flirted with was such an offence. I thought you'd be glad for any sort of attention. Fear not, you've turned him off you more effectively than I could have." Indeed the brown was now whining exageratedly about how very cruel the world was. She did her best to tune his words out, just as she was tuning out the feeling of rejection.

The smiths were ignored entirely for the time being. She was not examining them for quality, after all. No, she was looking at the blades they had made. She saw a set that looked good and gaze flicked upwards as one of the two smiths approached. She didn't much care for friendly stallkeepers but an outright antagonistic one just served to annoy her. She responded to the first way he addressed her for the second was due to the other smith's influence. He was lucky she didn't hear the comment about her salamandyr.

"I'm here to buy a set of throwing knives, smith," she said coolly. As much as she was itching to insult the man she needed him willing to sell to her. Only the thought that she could be as rude as she liked after she bought the blades cheered her up any. She pointed to the set she'd been looking at before. "How is the quality on this set?" The sooner she was able to go back to the weyr the better so she wasn't wasting any time for exchanges of glares.

Despite her cool demeanor, the fact that Katar and her had fought before had forced the bluerider into a state of readiness in the event that Katar did attack her. The hand closest to the other rider remained low, closer to one of her blades should she need it. It was purely precautionary at that point. Iskierka didn't go around physically attacking anyone unless they gave her reason to or she was ordered to. In the case she did attack someone they normally died. It was a bit of a curiosity why she or the other bluerider were alive given they had fought. Battles normally had a clear winner and loser.

[Ember]

((This has been silent for a while so I'm kinda gonna pull out of it now. Iski sort of just bought her throwing knives and left.))

[tarra]

(...Alright was typing a post halfway but guess its not needed now. Sorry about the delay again. Req - gonna PM ya.)