[I]"I would like to hear what the Dwarf has to say."[/i]

Not only did Wēlanandaz absolutely hate being the center of attention, but when it meant being dragged into one of Emilio's hairbrained schemes... well... he was had now been caught up in another, and supposed that it was time to do [i]his bit[/i] for the pair and their symbiotic relationship.

Doing his best to brush out the errant trail foliage from his beard - then making sure it was all still tucked in where it should be - the rather unimpressed Dwarf (unimpressed with the Knights, unimpressed with the so-called 'refuge' they had found, and [b]highly[/b] unimpressed with these accursed human merchants) gave a belaboured sigh and held up a hand to hopefully silence all and sundry.

Turning on his heel and making steps back to the cart, he unslung his shield and placed in on the mobile market stall, rummaging around until he plucked a certain object from a sack and returned to the group of bickering wastes of space.

In a smooth motion, almost as if he had done this before, Wēlanandaz revealed from behind his back his family helmet - it was perfect in almost every way, from the proportions to the choices of metal used in its forging, the growling Dwarven faceplate so accurate and life-like that it seemed as if it may come alive and issue a warcry at any moment.

"My name is Wēlanandaz, known among many as 'the Smith', and I bring with me four centuries of smithing knowledge as well as my own Runar-gifted hands in order to craft only the finest weapons and armour!" He held the helmet higher so that all of them could see it, turning it this way and that in order that the precise angles and glittering metalwork could be better appreciated by those that could appreciate such things, "my talkative associate and I require only shelter, food, and a decent forge that I may work. I craft and he sells."

The Dwarf now placed the helmet under his arm and drew forth his smaller hand-axe from his belt, again showing it off as best he could, "see the keen edge and runic decorative work, this is quality not oft found beyond the walls of our keeps, and I can assure you of that."

Finished with his sales pitch he returned his axe to his belt, leant forward on his two-handed weapon, and half-looked half-glared at the puffed up peacocks around them.

"Any further terms and conditions can be discussed with my partner here... and I would think carefully before any refusal, my lords."

[@Tony Pajamas][@POOHEAD189]