Post by Varis/G'Lorth/Sundilar on Feb 29, 2020 17:11:45 GMT
A small bell announces his arrival as Sundilar pushes brusquely through the door of the small shop. The place doesn’t seem to have a name - the sign hanging over the entrance shows only an image of a diamond, engraved and gilded.
From behind a high counter, a diminutive figure looks up, and Sundilar instinctively bares his teeth. The gnomish man has a large, bulbous nose and thin iron grey hair plastered to his head with some kind of grease. The jeweler’s loup held over his left eye by a thin strap of leather gives him the appearance of some strange, asymmetrical sea creature dredged up from the depths. He pulls the glass from his face and gives his visitor a papery smile.
“Ah, hello good sir. Welcome to Balthazar’s.”
He looks over Sundilar’s road-worn attire, his smile turning a little sour.
“I presume you are not looking to purchase anything. Perhaps you have something you wish to sell?”
The carmine skinned mage closes the distance to the counter, looking down at the Gnome with undisguised contempt.
“I am here neither to purchase nor to pawn. I find myself uncharacteristically short on funds. I am thus reduced to seeking some form of prosaic labour. I have skill both in the arcane arts and the more mundane working of precious metals and stones. I am, however-”
He pauses, the next admission clearly distasteful to him.
“-without my own tools at present.”
He glowers down at the Gnome, daring him to doubt him. The man pushes back a little from the desk, craning his neck to meet Sundilar’s gaze. An oily smile spreads across his face.
“Adventurer, eh? And you say you know faceting, perhaps how to set a stone or two? Alright, here is my proposal. You come into the back room and make me something. I have tools and materials back there. If it’s worthy of sale in this esteemed trading house, old Balthazar will give you a set of tools and maybe even a few coins. You look like you could use a hot meal.”
His smile is far from friendly. Sundilar grimaces, but nods his ascent. The gnome claps his hands.
“Excellent. Follow me then.”
He leads his new employee through a worn velvet curtain behind the counter into a small workshop. The space is cramped, and dim, but it’s neat and well ordered, and the tools are of good quality, if a little old. Sundilar takes a seat at the workbench, watching covertly from the corner of his eye as the gnome takes a heavy key from a ring at his belt and opens a safe set into the far wall. From inside he takes a small gold ingot, two of silver and a few uncut stones - a pair of small amethysts and a tourmaline.
“Cut them - the amethysts into trilliant, the tourmaline to a navette. Then set them as you will.”
Gone is the mercantile slick - Balthazar’s voice is brusque, businesslike. Sundilar’s lips curl in disdain as he squints at the stones.
“Do you mock me? Any fool can see that tourmaline will shatter if you try a navette. Look at the flaw, here. I could perhaps make it into a briolette, but you’ll lose half the stone.”
A satisfied smile spreads across the gnomes face and he nods.
“Good. Not just hollow bluster then. Cut it how you will.”
He settles down on the other side of the room to watch the wizard work. Sighing, Sundilar rolls up his sleeves and mutters a few words under his breath. There is a small puff of air.
“Fetch the crucible” he snaps.
Behind him, Balthazar frowns, opening his mouth to respond then shutting it with an audible click as the small ceramic bowl starts floating across the bench toward the peevish mage. Grinding his teeth, Sundilar sets to work.
A few hours later, Sundilar reclines in a deep copper tub, steam rising in wisps around his ears. The girl - Miriam, she had said her name was, though he hadn’t asked - had taken his clothes to be laundered. He smiles in satisfaction, taking a sip of the spiced wine in his hand.
Balthazar had been suitably impressed with his work, though he had tried to conceal it. Regardless, Sundilar had walked away with a fine set of jewelers tools and enough coin to warrant moving his possessions from that louse-infested shithole with the red door.
From behind a high counter, a diminutive figure looks up, and Sundilar instinctively bares his teeth. The gnomish man has a large, bulbous nose and thin iron grey hair plastered to his head with some kind of grease. The jeweler’s loup held over his left eye by a thin strap of leather gives him the appearance of some strange, asymmetrical sea creature dredged up from the depths. He pulls the glass from his face and gives his visitor a papery smile.
“Ah, hello good sir. Welcome to Balthazar’s.”
He looks over Sundilar’s road-worn attire, his smile turning a little sour.
“I presume you are not looking to purchase anything. Perhaps you have something you wish to sell?”
The carmine skinned mage closes the distance to the counter, looking down at the Gnome with undisguised contempt.
“I am here neither to purchase nor to pawn. I find myself uncharacteristically short on funds. I am thus reduced to seeking some form of prosaic labour. I have skill both in the arcane arts and the more mundane working of precious metals and stones. I am, however-”
He pauses, the next admission clearly distasteful to him.
“-without my own tools at present.”
He glowers down at the Gnome, daring him to doubt him. The man pushes back a little from the desk, craning his neck to meet Sundilar’s gaze. An oily smile spreads across his face.
“Adventurer, eh? And you say you know faceting, perhaps how to set a stone or two? Alright, here is my proposal. You come into the back room and make me something. I have tools and materials back there. If it’s worthy of sale in this esteemed trading house, old Balthazar will give you a set of tools and maybe even a few coins. You look like you could use a hot meal.”
His smile is far from friendly. Sundilar grimaces, but nods his ascent. The gnome claps his hands.
“Excellent. Follow me then.”
He leads his new employee through a worn velvet curtain behind the counter into a small workshop. The space is cramped, and dim, but it’s neat and well ordered, and the tools are of good quality, if a little old. Sundilar takes a seat at the workbench, watching covertly from the corner of his eye as the gnome takes a heavy key from a ring at his belt and opens a safe set into the far wall. From inside he takes a small gold ingot, two of silver and a few uncut stones - a pair of small amethysts and a tourmaline.
“Cut them - the amethysts into trilliant, the tourmaline to a navette. Then set them as you will.”
Gone is the mercantile slick - Balthazar’s voice is brusque, businesslike. Sundilar’s lips curl in disdain as he squints at the stones.
“Do you mock me? Any fool can see that tourmaline will shatter if you try a navette. Look at the flaw, here. I could perhaps make it into a briolette, but you’ll lose half the stone.”
A satisfied smile spreads across the gnomes face and he nods.
“Good. Not just hollow bluster then. Cut it how you will.”
He settles down on the other side of the room to watch the wizard work. Sighing, Sundilar rolls up his sleeves and mutters a few words under his breath. There is a small puff of air.
“Fetch the crucible” he snaps.
Behind him, Balthazar frowns, opening his mouth to respond then shutting it with an audible click as the small ceramic bowl starts floating across the bench toward the peevish mage. Grinding his teeth, Sundilar sets to work.
*
A few hours later, Sundilar reclines in a deep copper tub, steam rising in wisps around his ears. The girl - Miriam, she had said her name was, though he hadn’t asked - had taken his clothes to be laundered. He smiles in satisfaction, taking a sip of the spiced wine in his hand.
Balthazar had been suitably impressed with his work, though he had tried to conceal it. Regardless, Sundilar had walked away with a fine set of jewelers tools and enough coin to warrant moving his possessions from that louse-infested shithole with the red door.
Yes, he thinks, as he sets his goblet down again on the side table.
This was much more like it.