"Are you sure this is the kind of thing you need? Not that I don't mind being done with this whole business, Ser Tarot, but I don't understand why you feel that this is worth all the--"
"Ah, so you WANT to stay in debt to me?"
The blacksmith blinked then shook his head. The typically smug and coy tones of Crooked Tarot's voice had been replaced by a cool and calm vibration. It rang deeply in the craftsman's heart and it honestly wasn't a nice feeling at all. There was danger there and he fell silent as he moved to pick up the long packing box that held Crooked Tarot's order. It wasn't heavy at all, lighter than even a sword. It was an odd request--oddly specific and oddly placed. But again, he dare not overlook this chance generosity from Tarot to have his own debts with the man wiped clean if he did this one simple thing for him and told no one of it.
Ever.
The dissimilar eyes of the merchant looked at the box before taking it, opening the lid and looking inside with a grim sort of satisfaction. "Yes, this will do nicely." Lips turned up at the corners, eyes glinting with that same cool thoughtfulness, as if he'd just told a joke. "I won't lie to you--this piece of work will undoubtedly leave quite an impression."
"I would certainly hope so! That's what it's for after all!" the blacksmith said anxiously, risking a small smile as he licked his lip unconsciously. "I uh--I mad sure it was just to your specifications. Right down to the handle there--"
"Yes, I see that. Excellent work." Again, the merchant seemed to be elsewhere as he looked over the product in his hands.
"I--I didn't know you had business all the way up there, Ser Tarot."
"I've got business all over, Master Blacksmith."
Good. Tarot had already forgotten his name. The blacksmith sighed in relief and nodded, not pressing his luck on the matter. It was true that no one really care three damns about Dravania here in Limsa for the most part (unless they were of Ishgard stock, naturally) but it was still an odd request. "Not to pry, Ser, but--I thought you hated chocobos. Are you getting into breeding or--?"
"It's for another customer of mine," Tarot replied, closing the box and turning on his heel. "I hate the birds, you know that." With the snap of the box lid still ringing in the air, the merchant left the small smithy, leaving the blacksmith behind to wonder.
"Just what in the Hells would someone want with a branding iron--and why would they want the Dravanian brand on it, of all things?"
"Ah, so you WANT to stay in debt to me?"
The blacksmith blinked then shook his head. The typically smug and coy tones of Crooked Tarot's voice had been replaced by a cool and calm vibration. It rang deeply in the craftsman's heart and it honestly wasn't a nice feeling at all. There was danger there and he fell silent as he moved to pick up the long packing box that held Crooked Tarot's order. It wasn't heavy at all, lighter than even a sword. It was an odd request--oddly specific and oddly placed. But again, he dare not overlook this chance generosity from Tarot to have his own debts with the man wiped clean if he did this one simple thing for him and told no one of it.
Ever.
The dissimilar eyes of the merchant looked at the box before taking it, opening the lid and looking inside with a grim sort of satisfaction. "Yes, this will do nicely." Lips turned up at the corners, eyes glinting with that same cool thoughtfulness, as if he'd just told a joke. "I won't lie to you--this piece of work will undoubtedly leave quite an impression."
"I would certainly hope so! That's what it's for after all!" the blacksmith said anxiously, risking a small smile as he licked his lip unconsciously. "I uh--I mad sure it was just to your specifications. Right down to the handle there--"
"Yes, I see that. Excellent work." Again, the merchant seemed to be elsewhere as he looked over the product in his hands.
"I--I didn't know you had business all the way up there, Ser Tarot."
"I've got business all over, Master Blacksmith."
Good. Tarot had already forgotten his name. The blacksmith sighed in relief and nodded, not pressing his luck on the matter. It was true that no one really care three damns about Dravania here in Limsa for the most part (unless they were of Ishgard stock, naturally) but it was still an odd request. "Not to pry, Ser, but--I thought you hated chocobos. Are you getting into breeding or--?"
"It's for another customer of mine," Tarot replied, closing the box and turning on his heel. "I hate the birds, you know that." With the snap of the box lid still ringing in the air, the merchant left the small smithy, leaving the blacksmith behind to wonder.
"Just what in the Hells would someone want with a branding iron--and why would they want the Dravanian brand on it, of all things?"
![[Image: tumblr_na3nykiJYw1tj8x6po1_400.jpg]](https://31.media.tumblr.com/9aff6ba119629667e6fc2104ce65b848/tumblr_na3nykiJYw1tj8x6po1_400.jpg)
