“Alfo! My boy. Has Wendy settled down yet?” A boisterous old voice reflecting the passage of time sounded out to me. Now reflecting in my eyes is an old crotchety dwarf. I don’t know how old, although even for dwarves, gray hair and deep weathered wrinkles convey true age. My twelve-year-old self measured up to be 5’4” tall. Being taller than most my age I stood, lowering my gaze on the weathered dwarf. Old man Grimble. The general store owner for the settlement of St. Agnes. One of the few grown-ups in this town that I truly liked to be around. He was one of the few that didn’t recoil at the sight of my golden eyes. 

“Sister Wendy is married to the gods; you know that old man Grimble! She won’t forsake the vows so lightly.” I replied to Old man Grimble in mock anger. Knowing the old dwarf would appreciate the “fire” in my belly. I approached the old timer in comfortable strides, 

“HO! HO! Ho! Ho! Ho!” Wild laughter escaped the belly of the dwarf resounding in the immediate surroundings. “You’re a little warm today my boy. So, what can I do ya for? I assume that today you’re here as a customer, not a student.” questioned Grimble. 

As I pondered, thinking of a reply I took in my familiar surroundings. The barrels filled with weapons, wooden placards relaying the price in coins presented on each barrel. The barrels and their contents were obviously well made and durable. A counter hewn masterfully from an old walnut tree presented itself in all its glory at the back of the store. Atop the counter rests an oiled slab of cherry wood, as old man Grimble would like to put it “This wood is meant to represent the sanctity of mercantile practice! Any person worth half their salt would know, it’s common sense! Even the knife ears know. Bah, listen Alfo. You can always tell a good salesman if they have a piece of cherrywood underneath a place of business.” A strange rustic ambience was created in the store by the appearance of sturdy craftsmanship presented to customers. 

Old man Grimble took care of me as he knew that I was an orphan hailing from St. Agatha’s. Occasionally when I was younger he would pay me to help him do small chores for him in the general store and his workshop behind the store. While he says he may not be the best smith, he claimed he knew the basics as expected of any of his kind. He did admit that he was an excellent craftsman in other regards. His Primary skills being Potioneering(although I’ve always expected that the origin to that skill lay in his penchant for quality alcohol. Magical or non-magical.), unsurprisingly his other main focus was cooking. If you want to kill something, you should know how to cook it! As the world we lived in was one of survival with many creatures roaming freely across the land. It was common to carry a handheld weapon in our city as well. Of course, if you left the city walls it was common knowledge to have some form of protection for yourself. Usually in the form of more competent weapons and armor for adventurers and some tougher more skilled common folk. Merchants and traders would most assuredly have a bodyguard or multiple bodyguards when departing, unless they were down on their luck. Most children like me hadn’t ever left the city walls. 

Today was the day that would change. My original intent leaking into my thoughts yet again. I have saved up enough coin for a basic set of leather armor, a big weapon, and a small sidearm. It took me a long debate with old man Grimble about what kind of weapon would suit me. At first, I wanted something imposing like a polearm or a great sword. After learning from old man Grimble, I now knew that either a warhammer or a mace was more suitable for a beginner like myself. Not being as conscious about where you hit your opponent as much, thanks in large part to the reliable blunt damage you would inflict on your target. Both weapons are more suitable for different scenarios. The strong point of the warhammer is the force of your strike being more concentrated. As opposed to the mace that had less set up required for which surface you had to strike with. The tradeoff for the mace being less concentrated made it less suitable for facing off against heavily armored opponents. Not that a lump of solid metal wouldn’t do damage, it was something to be wary and conscious of during the middle of a fight. Afterall survival was dependent on knowing your own capabilities in times of crisis. 

Instead of getting a quality sidearm, I decided that I was going to purchase four hurlbats. I decided that practicality and cost was more important to me than the popular choice of a short sword. The guards at St. Agatha were proficient in handling many weapons, but what they taught the orphans was how to use a staff effectively. An idea related directly to our future. As I was lacking a ranged weapon at the moment. I thought I could make hurlbats work for me, even if they were mainly short range, they would still be immensely helpful to me and in a pinch, they could still deliver in a melee being made of metal. As for my armor, old man Grimble said he’d handle that. 

Realizing I was lost in thought, I pulled myself out of my consciousness and told old man Grimble “Yes, I am here as a customer today. I have made my decision for what armaments I would like to take with me in combat. I will pick a mace and two hurlbats. I think that it will offer me a greater range of tactics for myself to employ in the future. I would like a fully metal mace, including the handle. In case I need to parry, a wooden handle may break and enchanting it with durability magic is too expensive for me. I would have liked to purchase my weapons a year ago, but I thought it would be wiser to save up money in safety to buy more suitable equipment for myself.” As part of the deal that old man Grimble promised me in the past, I had to give reasons as to why I chose these weapons in particular. 

Replying, old man Grimble said “Good. Good. I am glad that you have shown patience at such a young age. I thought you were going to choose the warhammer with a reverse spike to be honest. I am glad that you aren’t over evaluating your own skill and experience choosing the mace. As a part of our previous deal, we’ll add in two extra hurlbats to give you four. I’ve also chosen your armor. It should come as no surprise boy. I chose a three layered hardened wild orc leather scale armor. The benefits being that you can layer more pieces of leather in the future to increase your protection. It also makes repairs cheaper and easier. I also chose to give you a set of leather greaves. I’ve also selected a coarse linen gambeson for you to wear underneath your armor. It should help with the gaps in your armor. It will make it a little harder to move around in, but the added protection is worth it. Since you have impressed me with your prudence I decided to throw in a little extra. As a gift from me I will also give you a pair of black iron bracers. On the condition that you don’t sell them. Let’s get you suited up!” He grinned at my look of surprise. Black iron was something that I didn’t think I would be able to afford for myself for quite a while into the future. 

“Yes! I can’t wait!” Replying in enthusiasm. I had waited for this day for the past three years. Saving my money had become a routine to me and watching my hard work disappear into the lockbox of the old dwarf caused me a little sorrow.