At last satisfied with the activity of the town at the break of dawn, certain not to be so early as the approach could be taken as offensive, the man arose to his feet, coin grasped firmly in palm. 

The decision had been made in plain, in that it was simple and unimaginative to most; something of value and longevity, but did not perish or dull. What good were things if they were to come and go so quickly? Walking before the wooden fronts of the many stores, he quietly neared the warmth that permeated the area beside the town's blacksmith. Men and dwarves working, they did not pay heed to the lone man with the long tawny hair; too busy striking steel to be bothered by an onlooker who surely could not buy anything.

Pushing open the thick door of the shop, he noted the dwarven woman from earlier - the one who had set out a sign before the front, alongside the one in the window; calls to men in need of work they were.

Stepping before examples of the finer work in the shop, things of which not a single gold could buy, the man examined them briefly in his brown, earth toned rags and worn belt of leather; perhaps the second most valuable thing on his person. He came to a stop, pausing before a set of unrefined silver ores. With a strange sense of expertise, he seemed to work through the stones, selecting one of which was not on display. As it were, it was a mixture of dull and shine in this state, both metallic and flat grey.

Almost with a knowing, the man paused, turning about to witness the face of a man - an orc, more specifically - placed against the dull glass; silver ore in one hand, a lone gold coin in another as he looked unto the onlooker in return, whose eyes wandered the place's various works.

[@xxrhoo][@King Tai]