The Blacksmith thought for a moment. He put down his hammer and crossed his arms as he pondered. "Well, adding Cold Iron to that weapon o' yorn would be about...70 gold pieces I'd say, which is much better than anywhere else you'd get it. Cold Iron is quite prized 'round these parts, for the Highfells are filled with Apparitions and the like, so folk claim. I never walk into the place," he chuckled, shaking his head. He turned around and went rummaging through a chest. His hands moving through it, she could hear the 'clack' of wood on wood within. 

"But, if you're wanting a heavier weapon that still has some sleekness to it, I do have a fine bastard sword for ye. Granted it's not Cold Iron, but it hits harder than your rapier I'd say, and stabs near as good." He lifted out a Hand-and-A-Half sword in a wooden scabbard. It was about as long as her rapier, where most longswords would not be. But it was about a pound heavier and wider in the blade, with a hilt that could be held one or two handed. 

[hr] 

The two Dwarves continued, downing three more drinks each until the alcohol seriously began to take effect. Both of them could hardly speak coherently, if they donned to try. The Duergar decided not to, but stared groggily at Joric. He was about to issue another challenge, but suddenly both of them felt bile filling up in their throats. Another drink would take out either one. 

"What say it's a draw, eh?" Durning the Tavernkeeper said, approaching them. "I'd rather there be no...excess contents on my table and floor if you get my drift." 

Only a table over, Arden seemed quite ready to start a small contest. He flipped one of his knives and gave Darius a nod. "Want to make a friendly wager out of this?" 

[hr] 

The shop was filled with various accessories, bottles, and ingredients behind a glass case, as well as larger barrels of various substances used for alchemical experiments within the main storeroom floor. A hint of lavender indeed wafted from within. A golden haired, slim woman poked her head out from the doorway leading to the back of the store. When she saw there was a customer, she sauntered her way up to the counter and plopped herself down upon her stool. "Greetings, how my I assist you?" Her red dress seemed stark contrast to the (relatively) gloomy store. 

[hider]I'm glad to keep going, but also glad to start the peril. Whatever y'all would like. I'm just glad we got a Forgotten Realms RP going. [/hider]