[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/UDT4li4.png[/img]
[abbr=Rokkit][img]https://i.imgur.com/BT7IrpQ.png[/img][/abbr][/center]

Everyone asked their questions and Rokkit paid some attention to them, only to take out his book and make a quick note about what everyone had said. He really couldn't be bothered to remember everything that was said. As he wrote down his notes he looked back on previous notes as well. Pages filled with scattered messages, directions, lists, and doodles. He keeps his actual schematics in a different book, one that looked far more important for a glorified diary. That being said some of the notes in this one also were important. In particular, a few shops that Rokkit has plans to go visit. With the 5k down payment Rokkit will be able to afford [i]a lot[/i] of things he couldn't have bothered to make or work on before. Sure, he already has the necessary equipment and materials for general repair and ammunition manufacturing, but he was going to use this money to buy parts to [i]make new weapons[/i]. It was difficult for Rokkit to not want to just leave with that money right now and immediately start working on his projects.

The life of a gunsmith, even one out here in the sticks, was not an easy one. Rokkit had to postpone many personal projects and experiments simply to pay his taxes to the town. And it was hard to do that when you're a bad businessman more interested in creating weapons than making what a customer wants. Back in the clan, Rokkit never took the term "The Customer is always right" seriously. Seemed like something self-righteous cravens say just to justify harassment and discounts. But since moving to Forsaken Rokkit has learned it's true meaning that if he can't sell a product that people want, no matter how earnest or well he does make his weapons, no one will want to buy from him. That's why he had to stop his projects and make more conventional firearms, weapons that normal people liked. Nothing he liked of course but... It put food on the table.

Thinking about that life made Rokkit have a moment of introspection. What was it that he wanted? He always had some grand, lofty goal to one day go back to the Redsun clan and get his revenge for what had happened, but he hasn't really made that many efforts towards it. He never joined a warband that would fight them, or find other orcs who had similar ideals. Even after learning magic Rokkit never once though about how to use any of it against the traitors. It was always just about creating weapons and exploring the possibility of designs. Even this job, what did he stand to gain from it? Money, of course, but to what end? Was he going to come back to his shop and try and invest that money to make a living here? Or blow it all on zanny schemes and projects?

Too much thinking on Rokkit's part. He hasn't even gotten that down payment yet and he's already distracting himself on a what-if future. He needed to focus on the here and now. Garret offered the group dinner, which Rokkit would gladly part take in. He wasn't one to complain about free food even if it's of poor quality. Orcs aren't known for their excellent cuisine after all. Plus it was going to be a chance to actually introduce himself to the others. Rokkit's normally not one for a social gathering but he wasn't entirely against it either. As long as no one expects him to dress up formally: the best he'll do is a cleaner version of his current look. [color=firebrick]"So be it. Just hand over the initial payment, and I will meet you back here for dinner."[/color] 

After dealing with whatever formalities Rokkit needed doing, he had left the mansion to do some shopping. There are a few gunshops that Rokkit had a professional relationship with. Probably the only good thing about his business management skills: he never registered as a threat to the rest of the competition in the town, assuming any of them even knew who he was. Which they probably don't, considering that the only time he ever goes to their store was to buy parts. The first place he stopped at was a dwarven gunshop known as the Gunhammer. It's sign was the aforementioned gunhammer, a gun and hammer hybrid. Rokkit questioned the functionality of such a weapon, but if anyone could do it, it'll likely be the dwarves. Aside from their strange choice in weaponry another thing the Gunhammer sold was antique dwarven weapons. Things that most people don't really buy for practical use, such as greataxes or warhammers. They also have some guns from an older time, before they were rendered obsolete with more advanced weapon technology. And it was one of such weapons that Rokkit was interested in.

It was called a Dwarven Seven Barrel Shooter. It was probably called something more poetic in dwarven, but Rokkit neither knew or cared what that name was. What he cared about was the strange design of this weapon. The gun was basically a musket mounted onto a revolver frame, otherwise known as a pepperbox. Such designs were created back in the days where guns had to be muzzle loaded with powder and shot, so the dwarves thought it more efficient to simply bring a gun that had multiple barrels primed and ready, as oppose to constantly loading and shooting a single barrel during the heat of battle. The real key however was the fact the dwarves created the paper cartridge for the Seven Barrel Shooter, enabling them to load powder directly into the gun without need of a ramrod, which was considered the height of gunsmithing back in the day.

Indeed, the weapon was so popular that it was chosen by most dwarven governments as the new standard of arms for their soldiers, and saw mass production. Which naturally led to multiple gun companies trying to improve on the design, which ultimately lead to the current age of firearms, where bullets are jacketed with metal instead of just raw powder crushed against a leaden ball. At that point the needlessly bulky and heavy Seven Barrel Shooter was retired barely a few years into service, and a new more practical designs became the standard. Thus these weapons, despite having their day in the sun, have been rendered into little more than collectables, if there's even any parts left. The two firearms on display in particular have been battle tested and show their history: two barrels bent, a damaged trigger, rust from oxidized black powder. Frankly Rokkit was surprised that the shopkeepers kept the weapon around, considering it'll barely function in it's current state. But Rokkit should be thankful they didn't toss it before the orc could buy it. He brought both rifles for 500 coins, along with an assortment of conventional weapon parts and pieces that would be harder for Rokkit to make on the go, for a total of 1200 coin spent.

The second shop he needed to go to was a weirder one, at least for him. But he needed to go to a jewelry store. He needed to buy some gemstones to fuel some of his more complex magic contraptions, and as there wasn't a dedicated magic store in town that Rokkit knew of. However he also knew it was going to be a bit of a challenge here. Not because he doubted this shop would have what he needed, but simply because he vaguely knew the owners. Ran by a husband and wife who Rokkit had learned has a less than positive opinion on certain races, such as orcs, and while they wouldn't obviously mention it Rokkit knew what they are wary of him when both their sons and daughters suddenly come to "help" watch the shop. But as long as they didn't cause him trouble, he wouldn't cause them trouble.

Fortunately Rokkit's time with the jewelry store went without much issue. Unfortunately, they didn't have what he was looking for. Sure enough when he arrived, the sons and daughters arrived and spoke to Rokkit in lieu of the elderly parents. Unlike the parents the children were more tolerant and willing to do business with Rokkit. He made his intentions clear: he simply wanted the gemstones, not the gold and silver attached to them. Unfortunately the store mostly dealt in gold and silver and any gemstones on them were not sold separately. Rokkit wasn't sure if this was true or if they were simply lying to him to get rid of him. He's loath to say more than needed, but he needed these gemstones and he honestly didn't know where else to find them. Fortunately, one of the sons helped Rokkit out.

Apparently there [i]is[/i] a magic shop in Forsaken, though unsurprisingly, it caters more to the advanced magic users. Rokkit was surprised that he's only now just heard of it, but then again he's mostly only dealt with guns and smithing. It never occurred to him how many magic users this town had. Rokkit left to head to this shop, which was located in a more refined part of town. Rokkit stuck out like sword wound here. People actually looked like wizards here, whereas Rokkit looked like a barbarian from the mountains. Which... He kind of was. He tried not to think about it as he entered the market. Somehow he felt a bit comfortable here as various merchants and traders trying to hawk their wares to various customers competing to get the best deals. Reminded him of home. So getting into the mindset, he set out to find those gemstones.

What Rokkit quickly learned is that the stones he's looking for are plentiful here in the market, but also in high demand. People far richer than Rokkit buy them up in bulk, leaving only a few merchants who'll sell individual stones that are then brought up by faster and more cunning people. Rokkit needed to be just as fast and keep his eyes sharp to find them. Fortunately he managed to find two gemstones of good quality, buying them for 100 gold each. He could've gotten them for cheaper if he was willing to haggle, but when he tried to do that on the first stone he found someone else brought it out from underneath him. So he figured he'd do the same, buying a ruby and an onyx.

There was one more stop he had to make. This one was to the metal yard. While the gunsmiths created delicate parts that were needed for guns, for Rokkit's armor he simply needed raw materials. However mere steel wasn't going to be enough. The metal yard had various minerals he would need to create more advanced armor. Not just metals that were functionally harder, but also served different purposes. Copper to conduct energy, corundum for abrasives, and if possible, Tungsten. Possibly the hardest metal that Rokkit can work with, short of adamantine. He's tried to work adamantine before but it's requires such heat that Rokkit needed a magic forge to work it, which he never found. Here Rokkit brought 2000 gold worth of assorted metal ingots. More than enough to quite possibly create the ultimate armor, assuming he figures out how that looks like. Not to mention the more magical aspects of his armor would need gemstones and more esoteric materials, but at least this way he has the base materials accounted for.

He had the metal delivered to Garrick's estate, where Rokkit could have it loaded onto the wagon. The day was winding down, but there was one final location. Possibly the only place that Rokkit has "fun" in Forsaken. Counting out his coins again the orc headed to a seedy red light district. It should come to no surprise that a place like Forsaken sold all sorts of vices, and Rokkit was a mere mortal. However Rokkit's final destination was not a brothel. It was also a coffee shop. Now [i]that[/i] was rarer than meteor iron. Rokkit has learned to love the taste of coffee during his time as a mercenary. Sure, ale and beer was usually the drink of choice for a soldier of fortune, but Rokkit has made a living off of coffee and if he had to choose between a bag of coffee beans and his weight in gold, he'd go for the beans every time.

The location he visited was called the Exotic Taste. Coffee wasn't the only thing sold there, they sold different sort of foreign and local narcotics. This was the place Rokkit usually got his tobacco from, Winterstem. A lovely little cultivar with multiple uses, from clothing, medicine, and other industries. But what it's most known for is it's ability as a muscle relaxant and painkiller. Especially when rolled up into some paper and smoked like a cigar. Between a roll of Winterstem and a cup of strong coffee, Rokkit would have a tough choice of vice. But with all this extra money in his pocket, he can afford to indulge in both. Compared to the whore houses it's stuck between, the coffee shop was so small it could've been mistaken as a storage closet. Inside the shop was only a few tables, the bar, and the owner of the establishment. A strange looking human: despite the colorful hair and weirdly pale skin, this man was 100% human.

Rokkit went to take his usual spot by the bar. It was the only spot that fit him comfortably. The owner of the bar, the colorful human man, had his name written on his apron. [color=firebrick]"Maverick. Iced barely coffee macchiato, double sugar. And a Winterstem fatty. Frosthound brand if you have any."[/color] The first thing Rokkit was given was the cigar. A fat brown roll that Rokkit cut with his axe. Holding it in his mouth he raised his fingers to the foot of the cigar and snapped, creating a spark that lit the cigar up. He began to immediately enjoy the relaxing effects of the the winterstem, letting out a plume of smoke. He tried to make a smoke ring but the best he could do was a vaguely round cloud. Soon enough Maverick would have Rokkit's coffee ready, and the orc sipped it like a fine wine. [color=firebrick]"[abbr=Iron in the Blood]Angijak[/abbr]..."[/color] Rokkit said in an almost dreamy manner.

Another customer came in. A lanky looking dragonborn Rokkit was vaguely familiar with. She was something of a regular here, or at least came here often enough that nearly all of Rokkit's visits here had her present. He was somewhat acquainted with her as they've had a few chats in the past, but not enough to really call each other friends. [i][color=firebrick]"Hmph. Never made any friends at all while I was here."[/color][/i] Rokkit thought to himself. Indeed, he didn't have too many friends, nor many enemies. It's like he barely really existed here in this gods Forsaken. He glanced over at the dragonborn. He didn't know her name, neither of them really introduced each other. He knows she works at a bank, and she knows he runs a gunsmithy. She comes here to unwind after dealing with customers all day, and Rokkit's just here for the coffee. He wondered if he should strike up a conversation again but decided against it. He was going to be out of this town for a month. Chances are, this woman would forget him by tomorrow. And as relaxing as his cigar was, he wasn't so relaxed that he felt like casually interacting with familiar strangers.

After finishing his drink and smoke, Rokkit paid a hefty sum of 500 gold for some coffee and winterstem, to go. Which was an almost absurd amount: a single cigar was just five silvers, and for the amount Rokkit was buying he might as well be a supplier. But no, everything he was buying was strictly for personal use. Perhaps not the most responsible way of handling his money... But he didn't care. Rokkit wanted to enjoy his new found wealth and felt that coffee and weed was hardly the worse way he could spend it. At least he's not sleeping with the whores next doors, possibly contracting a venereal disease. Despite how tough he was even Rokkit knew not to risk his loins for plastic love. 

Gathering up his things Rokkit checked the time. It was about time for dinner. With any luck those workers shipped his metal to the mansion as well, so it'll be ready to be loaded onto the wagon by tonight. Rokkit debated using his money to buy his own horse and wagon, but decided against it. Transportation was already arranged for them, Rokkit will simply commandeer the one given to him instead of spending more money for a personal wagon he couldn't be bothered to take care of anyways. Logistics was always one of those things that Rokkit knew was vital, but he simply lacked the means and reason to be concerned about it. His armor helps his already powerful build carrying most of the things he needs. A wagon was just to carrying bulkier things that Rokkit would already have dismantled for transportation anyways, such as his anvils, smelter, and trough. Still, less weight for Rokkit meant more things he could carry, and he certainly did buy a lot today. No way he could carry those ingots even with his armor on. So it was a good thing he was being given a wagon to use.

It was about five o'clock when Rokkit returned to the mansion. Not much has changed though he didn't see many workers. He could only assume that they've changed shifts, or maybe were working out afield. Didn't matter to him. He took out a cigar and lit it up, heading inside to see what's for dinner. Hopefully it wasn't one of those fancy dinners with small portions. Rokkit was an orc and needed orc sized meals. Letting out a black cloud of winterstem, he glanced around the room. [color=firebrick]"Now where's the kitchen..."[/color]