ooc: Taking place in the public market, plz no trespass >_>

Big things were coming for Saracyn. The young wolf was on the precipice of his second birthday, only half a season away from becoming a full-fledged adult, and with his coming of age came a new slew of responsibilities—as a prince of Elysium, as a Mendacium male, and as his sister and future Matriarch's Defender. With his relationship with Avacyn solidly founded and planned, the red-furred prince knew exactly what his next steps would be. He would remain Defender of his twin, personal protector to the heir to the pack, until the day she took the position of Matriarch from their mother. Then he would become her Commander, her bodyguard and sworn hand to carry out her will within Elysium and throughout Boreas. With that, all eyes would be on the twins—on Avacyn as the leader of the pack, and on Saracyn as he enforced and defended her from their enemies, and Elysium had no shortage of those.

Such importance in his rank required Saracyn to be at the top of his game. He had already honed his skills to a mastery level and continued to keep them sharp on a daily basis. But an artist was also only as good as his tools, and while he did like his knives, they weren't exactly the intimidating tour de force he expected a Commander to wield. Sara remembered the wolf from the pack down south, the alpha with the sword who came to visit his parents on occasion. The tall, rugged dire wolf carrying a weapon capable of ending life in a single swing. Now that was a force to be reckoned with! Thanks to the recent alliance his mother had set up with the southern alpha, it was easy for Saracyn to make the trip down to the Hallows and barter a sword worthy of his station from the castle's king. The alpha had even shown him how to sharpen it and given him a whetstone. But for all his talents, the alpha hadn't been able to restore the blade to its full glory, lacking the expertise needed for this specific type of metal, some sort of special steel that seemed to ripple like water and was as black as midnight.

Thankfully, the alpha had pointed him in the direction of a blacksmith in the north. This particular wolf had apparently restored the alpha's similarly steeled sword in the past, and so Saracyn set off to find the blacksmith in the Armada. The adolescent Mendacium crossed into the Armada, following the guideposts to the public market he was told he could find the smith at. The market was expansive, built into a cave with plenty of room for merchants of all kinds to peddle their wares. Sara was interested in only one thing however. The sound of metal pounding metal caught his attention, and following it, he came upon a sizable workshop and forge manned by a large red wolf. Saracyn approached the smithy, gazing about at the metalwork he had on display before clearing his throat to get the man's attention. "Are you Ruga?" he asked the wolf at the forge, slipping the black scabbard carrying the Damascus steel sword off of his back and laying it out on the nearest workbench. "My name is Saracyn Mendacium. I was sent by Artorias of the Hallows. He told me you could mend and hone this sword for me."

"Saracyn Mendacium"

When he began to set up his stall of sorts within the large market that the Armada hosted, he had really only intended on having a table with some of his pre made pieces on display and perhaps just take some custom orders there to work on later at his larger workshop by his den, but he quickly realized that when he brought something to work on to pass the time he tended to draw more of a crowd. He didn't want to care about how many pieces he sold or how much work he generated for himself, but somewhere deep down the businessman his father had taught him to be still thrived and it did make him happy to see the things he made go to homes that appreciated them. Because of that, he built a slightly more scaled back version of his forge and workshop in the "stall" he had been given and used it to do some fine tuning on projects or do some on the spot repairs as they came.

He was mending a piece of dented plate armor, holding it over the flame to heat up the metal before using his hammer to gradually smooth it out, when a sound coming from the edge of the stall pulled his attention in the gaps of silence between the clangs of metal. His ears perked and he turned his head to look at the black and red young brute that was waiting on him. Setting down the hammer, he went to greet him, but before he could introduce himself the stranger showed that he already knew who he was, seemingly seeking him out specifically. "That I am," he replied with a chuckle, casting a curious glance toward the sword that was laid on the surface in front of him. "What can I help you with?"

As soon as Saracyn introduced himself and explained what—and who—and brought him here Ruga perked with interest, his brows lifting with the kind of excitement only an artisan given an exciting project could have. "No kidding! Oh his sword was a delight to work on. I've been dying to get my paws on some of that steel again." He lifted a paw toward the sheathed sword, giving Saracyn a questioning look and saying, "May I?" before sitting back on his haunches and pulling the sword out of its sheath, revealing the black blade within. He grinned and marveled at it for a moment, holding it up into his line of sight and looking down the blade as he assessed it and turning it over in his paws to look at the grip and pommel. "A beautiful piece... I can see why he sent you to me though. It needs a bit of work to get it back to its former glory. I would probably need a day or two to finish the work, but it'd be well worth it when I'm done, I can promise you that." He started to slide the sword back into its scabbard and added, "Are there any adjustments or changes you'd like made while I'm at it?"

"Ruga Amanto"

As soon as the wolf confirmed he was the Ruga he sought, Saracyn launched into his explanation of why he was here. The excitement that lit up in the blacksmith's face was that of an artisan who had been given a particularly good commission to work on. He remembered Artorias, and he remembered the sword. Good, then perhaps the Armadan wolf would get this old relic into a battle ready state. Saracyn nodded when asked for permission, and Ruga inspected the sword with the keen eye of an experienced craftsman. Saracyn knew nothing of smithing or weapon forgery, so he defaulted to the opinions of those more knowledgable than he. He hadn't doubted Artorias would give him something worthy, and it seemed Ruga confirmed his hunch. This would be a fine blade once it received some much needed TLC.

Ruga praised the craftsmanship of the sword and agreed to take on the job, quoting a day or two to complete it. That was perfectly reasonable to the young prince. "Take the two days and make sure it's perfect," he said, then removed the small leather pouch tied to his armor and tossed it onto the workbench. The pouch made a metallic clatter as it landed, and when opened would reveal a small pile of silver and gold Saracyn had taken from the mines he and Avacyn had explored some time ago. Payment for services rendered. "I want the black finish on the sword maintained. I'll need it sharp enough to cut through flesh and bone without getting caught, ideally up to a bear, but so long as it will kill dire wolves, it will suffice." There was still one more detail Saracyn wanted added to his sword though. Reaching a paw into his armor, the prince produced two vivid violet tanzanite gemstones from a secret pocket and placed them beside the sword. "I'd like these added to either side of the crossguard if you can make that happen as well."

"Saracyn Mendacium"

For as young as the man was in front of him he was very much down to business with the whole interaction. He couldn't necessarily find a fault in that and if anything it would just allow him to get to work all that much faster. When Saracyn told him to take the two days to make sure the job was done right, Ruga nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. I never do any of my work half way." He wouldn't dream of doing such a fine piece a disservice as to rush his work and ruin this beautiful weapon. Ruga glanced up at the sound of the metal hitting the worktop, seeing the small pouch that Saracyn presented that would obviously be his payment. He reached for the bag while Saracyn began to detail what he wanted out of the job, feeling the weight of it a bit before tucking it away. In reality Ruga likely would have done the job for free just out of his own excitement for the work he was about to do, but he knew that he was still technically running a business here and he couldn't keep letting his passion projects distract him from his purpose here.

"Don't you worry, I'll make sure it's plenty sharp," he replied, already seeing that this young man was a bit more on the violent side in the spectrum of his clientele. He had long put to rest his own misgivings with that kind of mindset and just accepted that it had to be part of the job he was doing. "It'll be more than suited for taking down any size of opponent and black as night when I'm done with it." He thought that was going to be it, but Saracyn surprised him when he pulled two violet gems from his armor and placed them on the workbench next to the sword with the request of inlaying them on either side of the cross guard. He glanced curiously at his client before picking up one of the gems to examine it, its size, and the cut to make sure they were doable as additions to this blade. "That shouldn't be a problem," he assured Saracyn after a moment, placing the gem down again. "That's an interesting choice of stone. Very beautiful. Any particular significance behind them?"

"Ruga Amanto"

To his credit, the blacksmith Ruga seemed equally as willing to keep their interaction to strictly business as much as he was himself. Saracyn despised menial small talk, though he didn’t mind humoring the craftsman while he gushed over his new weapon. After weighing out the pouch of coins for payment and deeming it acceptable, Ruga assured him that he wouldn’t do shoddy work on such a magnificent blade. Saracyn didn’t know anything about the quality of swords just yet, but if both Astoria’s and Ruga were taken by this sword, then he reasoned that it must be of a high caliber. More than fitting a warrior of his station and a wolf of his lineage.

When he presented the striking tanzanite stones to Ruga, the fascination in the blacksmith’s eyes gave Saracyn a swell of pride. He wanted his sword to be unique, and it seemed he had done a good job of choosing a precious stone that fit the bill to a letter. Ruga inspected each of the gems in turn, likely checking for flaws or imperfections and when he found none, assured the prince that his request would be done. "Perfect," came Sara’s simple response. Ruga asked if there was some sort of significance behind the stones and the prince gave a curt nod. "Yes," he replied and considered leaving it at that, since it really was no business of the craftsman’s, but decided he didn’t want to irk the wolf he was paying to care for his most valuable possession. "It matches the color of the wolf I’ve sworn myself to." Sara was tactful to not explain whether he’d sworn himself to his charge romantically or dutifully. He didn’t need wolves outside of his family to know the details of his relationships.

With his explanation given, Saracyn lifted impassive cerulean eyes to meet Ruga’s. "Was there anything else you needed from me, or shall I leave you to your craft?"

"Saracyn Mendacium"