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-----The weaponsmith stares with his mouth slightly open while the Dread Pirate relays his story. "Bloody ‘ell!" he finally exclaims with his eyebrows rising. "Ye be needin’ magic priests or some goodly magicians fer figurin’ out them swords!" Curiously, in the same breath, he adds, "I be givin’ ye twenty gold fer ‘em."
-----With a thoughtful frown, he seems to think aloud. "Makes me wonders if’n them wizards ye be speakin’ of has ta do wit’ the trouble at the Temple o’ Joren."
-----Clearing his throat, the smith comes out of his reflection and answers, "Aye, we gots some ‘a finest bows n’ crossbows yer ever gonna need!"
-----The Dread Pirate blinks at the smith for a moment, apparently taken aback that the man has actually believed his story about decapitating evil wizards, "Umm, that’s alright. I'll be keepin the weapons fer awhile. I was just curious about 'em. Maybe I can see if some wizard can take a look at 'em. Anyway, me friend here probably knows more about bows than I do," the Dread Pirate points to Marast, "he'll be pickin out the bows and heavy crossbow."
-----At the mention of the temple of Joren, Gimplefwick looks interested and says, "What trouble has been goin on at the Temple? Maybe me friends and I can look into it."
-----The weaponsmith stands to one side to show a display of bows and crossbows. The elf looks at both Kazel and the Dread Pirate and then moves forward to look closely at the weapons.
-----While he does, the smith answers the Dread Pirate saying, "O’er at the temple, they had some black magic coverin’ the top o’ the buildin’. Well, some o’ the priests finally figured out how to get rid o’ it. Now, they’s been sayin’ some evil demon witch is still up there keepin’ the priests out."
-----At this point, Marast looking over the man’s weapons sneers. With a dissatisfied grunt, he says in disgust, "Bows made by humans."
-----"Ere now!" the weaponsmith protests, "They be a finest weapons yer findin’ ‘round here." Squinting a wary eye toward the elf, he then looks back at Kazel and the Dread Pirate and whispers, "Yer askin’ fer a lot o’ trouble hangin’ ‘round them wood elfs. I hears they been killin’ peoples in the woods."
-----The Dread Pirate begins to look increasingly dissatisfied as everyone around him expresses their unhappiness, "Ye Gods! What did I do to deserve this? Marast, just pick out the best that ye can find, we don't be needin a runnin commentary on the poor quality of human craftsmanship. I'm sure the bows aren't the quality of elven bowyers, but humans don't have a couple thousand years to perfect their craft, do they?"
-----The Dread Pirate turns on the smith, "As fer ye, it isn’t yer place to be advisin me on me choice of traveling companions. There stands a pretty good chance that we might be takin care of yer demon witch problem, but how can ye expect help from anybody when ye act like a bigoted, scurvy dog. If humans and elves are killin each other, it’s at the instigation of darker powers than ye ever want to meet."
-----Gimplefwick turns to Kazel and whispers, "Maybe we can go check out this temple problem. If the priests will heal me up and 'donate' to our cause, we might be able to rid them of their problem. I'm still pretty badly burnt from that pox-ridden wizard."
-----The elf’s face slightly reddens but he calmly holds his anger in check. Turning to the task at hand, he selects three long bows and one heavy crossbow. He sets each weapon down on a side counter and then commences to stare down the smith. He pauses only momentarily to motion toward some arrows and crossbow bolts.
-----The weaponsmith looks over the selected items and turns to Gimplefwick saying, "I lets ye have ‘em all fer three hundren’ seventie five gold!" He sets three quarrels of arrows and a case of bolts with the bows.
-----Marast cocks his head and looks at Kazel and the Dread Pirate to let them know what the elf thinks of the man and his work.
-----The Dread Pirate dons a shocked expression and his mouth gapes open, "Three hundred and seventy five? Gold? Ye've got to be kiddin’ me. I'm just tryin to buy weapons, not establish an annuity fer yer grandchildren. I can't believe that yer tryin to rob those that are tryin to save yer town. For shame! I couldn't possibly go higher than, say, two hundred and fifty. And that'll completely deprive me of any profits from this trip. It's simple highway robbery. That’s what it is."
-----The Dread Pirate assumes a speculative look, "Tell ye what, friend smith. Ye sell us the weapons fer two hundred and we'll go take care of that demon witch and tell everybody that we used yer weapons to do it. And that we wouldn't have stood a chance without 'em. Ye'll see more business that ye'll ever be able to keep up with. And ye can hang a sign in front of yer shop, statin that the slayers of the demon witch endorse yer weapons. And we'll tell every adventurer and soldier that we meet about yer shop and where it’s located."
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