“It done!”
With a wipe of her brow, Ker sets down the longsword, completing a final entry in a long line of standard weaponry she sought to complete. She had been hard at work getting her shop, “Ker Clunk’s Goblin Gear” up to snuff. She had a lot of competition here in the capital city after all. Ker takes the freshly sharpened longsword and quickly jumps from her stool, careful not to damage the gleaming, polished blade. She places it on a rack a head taller than her, alongside the rest of the swords. The hilts were gathering a bit of dust.
Upon placing it down, her eyes wander to the opposite end of her store, sketches of her ideas lining the walls. Some of them were rather outlandish, such as a four-bladed shuriken-like sword, an enormous serrated greatsword cut from the scales of an elder dragon, and even a design of a spiked ball on a chain. Yes, truly all ideas that were all fantasy in her mind, a demonstration of her creativity, rather than what was popular or practical. These ideas, which she was most proud of, had yet to be appreciated.
“Is ok.” She tells the weapons.
“You good boys. People buy. You see.” She looks down at the countertop. “You see. People buy. Soon.”
Before Ker had too much time to lament, however, there is a jingle at the front of her store.
She scrambles down off the tall stool that lets her see over the counter and runs as fast as her little legs will carry her over to the front of the store. She skids to a halt in front of the prospective customer, waggling her arms to regain balance. “HELLO! HELLO! WELCOME!” She shouts, bouncing up and down several times before bowing repeatedly and then returning to her enthusiastic bouncing.
“Welcome to Ker Clunk!” “Me Ker! Me make weapon! Good weapon! Best best BEST! Promise! Good price! Kill monster!”
Ker holds up her hands and sprints to the racks, half-tripping over some ingots she left in a pile on the floor. She returns a moment later with a sword of her design. It’s a surprisingly elegant thing, a curved scimitar-like blade.
“Ker studied elves!” She says, patting one gloved hand on the blade. “Light! Sharp!”
She points at a small stamp on the base of the blade: a comically simple depiction of her smiling face.
“SEE! Me make! Ker! Good! Right? Good! AH! Oh, and Kee also do repairs. Modification. All smithy! Everything!”
She scoots closer, lifting the sword she is so proud of so it can be better admired.
“So! What customer need? I can sell weapon, make weapon, repair,..” Her voice trails off as her stomach growls. Her face grows a bit red as she tries to smile convincingly.
As Ker finishes her sales pitch, she finally takes in the figure standing before her, looking up at them. She hadn’t noticed through her energetic showcase. They appear to be a knight…of some sort? Ker took particular notice of the armor. It was unique and carefully crafted, clearly the work of a master smith. She couldn’t help but take in every detail, from head to toe.
The armor set was dyed entirely black, with hints of gold accents. The helm was completely closed, with narrow eye slits and an ornate design on the visor. The knight wore a short cloak that appeared to be made of chainmail, over the set of black plate armor. Complete with arms and legs detailed with segmented armor, the armor set was form-fitting and much less bulky than typical knights, his fingers even articulated, whereas most knights even up to the royal guard wore mitt-style gloves.
Most impressively to Ker however, was the strange weapon he carried on his back. It appeared to be a spear…no…a halberd of some sort? Its strange and unique design ignited the same fire in her that her designs did. It shared the length of a spear, but the tip resembled…a sword. The blade seemed to glow an eerie red, while the remainder of the pole of the weapon was a matte black, no reflection to be seen even in the daylight. Overall, the figure was imposing indeed, and the stillness of the figure through all of this made Ker’s blood run cold.
The individual stood silently, lightless eyeholes fixated on Ker, the head blocking the sun that shone through the crack of her still-ajar doorframe.
“Eeer….uh, you need…assistance or…something else..?” Ker takes a couple of steps back, the silence unnerving her with this figure.
The knight closed the door with a slow, and deliberate clunk. They slowly approached Ker, which caused her to begin trembling.
“Eh…Eh..!”
The individual knelt down before her, the silence palpable as they reached behind pulling the glaive-like object from its place on their back, the crimson glow causing a strange low hum.
“N-no! Don’t hurt Ker!” Ker threw up her gloved hands defensively. “Ker goblin! Goblin meat do not taste good! Not good at all!”
And suddenly the figure reached out and held the glaive toward Ker, motioning toward it. Ker looked up at them, eyes shifting back from the formless helmet to the glaive.
“You want Ker to take?”
The figure nodded. Ker took the glaive, the weight in her palms surprisingly light, yet palpable. The man pointed to Ker, then the glaive, and then tilted his head.
“Hmmm. Ker not fully understand, but is Sword-Spear broken?”
The man nodded solemnly, pointing at the deep crimson blade. Ker took a closer look at the weapon part. Indeed, there was something wrong.
“Oooh. Ker see. Ker understand.” Ker closed one eye as she tilted the glaive within her hands, looking it over in scrutinizing detail. “Blade itself chipped. Blunt tip. Weight distribution not right either. See?” Ker tries to balance the spear at what should be its center of gravity, only for it to fall toward the blunt end. “Ker see one thing more important than all else though.” Ker brings the flat end of the blade close to her face.”Ker can see this magic weapon. Magic stone cracked. Leaking bad juju energy all over Ker Clang Blacksmith shop!” Ker looks up at the knight with a sense of disapproval, her earlier trepidation washing away.
The knight hung their head in a bit of embarrassment and shame.
“What you doing that got this poor baby so banged up huh? Huh?!” Ker took a few steps toward the figure, his imposing figure seemingly now small to even the goblin. The armored individual responded by rising to their feet, taking a couple of steps back, and rubbing their neck, the armor clicking from the plates sliding against one another.
The knight tries to explain in a series of hand gestures, none of which seem to make sense to Ker except one in particular.
“Ohhh, magic explosion. Yeah, that do it.”
The man nods solemnly, sighing inaudibly.
“That hard. Ker see you do hard work. Well, no worry! Ker do hard work too! Leave with Ker and Ker fix lickety split! Or this not Ker Clung’s blacksmith shop!”
Ker flexes her tiny bicep and flashes a grin.
The Knight nods and clasps his hands in thanks, before reaching for the coin purse at their waist.
“No, no! No pay yet. Ker work first and then money. Ker want to see what she can do with this beauty!”
Ker’s eyes sparkled as she carried the glaive carefully to her workbench, setting it down.
The knight nodded before following over to her and sitting at a nearby stool, to watch her work. Ker couldn’t make out the expression, but it seemed to be more fascination rather than scrutiny.
What is the story of this knight? The capital was a big place, but there’s no telling who this individual was. Ker pushed the thoughts aside as she focused on the glaive and her work.