[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/230709/b2d64c98395f01e2c7cbdf98293c4c91.png[/img]

[color=saddlebrown][b]Time:[/b][/color] Evening
[color=saddlebrown][b]Time:[/b][/color] Evening
[color=saddlebrown][b]Location:[/b][/color] Village on the outskirts of Roshmi
[color=saddlebrown][b]Interactions:[/b][/color]Mari [@princess]; Thraash [@funnyguy]
[color=saddlebrown][b]Mentions:[/b][/color] 
[color=saddlebrown][b]Equipment:[/b][/color]
[hider]His travelling clothes - Dark, earthy shirt and coat, with trousers tucked into boots
A hooded, oilskin cloak
His bow, unstrung
A musket
Two pistols
Two hatchets
His travelling pack[/hider][/center]
[hr]
Scathael arched a brow at the Dragonborn’s words. He wasn’t offended – this wouldn’t be the first, or last, time someone mistook him for a mere village smith – but rather, he was amused. [color=saddlebrown]“You walked all this way, only to question my skills when you’re here?”[/color] The look in his eyes was one of utter disinterest, his voice a flat monotone, and every part of his body telling the two that he honestly couldn’t care less whether or not they actually hired him. Granted, the prospect of working on a warforged was tempting, but he didn’t trust these two. Not enough to follow them to who-knows-where after dark, at least. 

It was for that reason that he started to dismiss them. But then, the Light Elf spoke up. Her words carried a sort of energy that was somehow simultaneously eminently annoying, but also strangely nostalgic. As if it reminded him of someone.

Scathael quickly nipped that thought in the bud. She was dead. There were many people who were similar to her, but none who were her. He had made the mistake of going down that road once. Never again. Still, he couldn’t help but soften his tone as he addressed Mari, something which didn’t escape his own notice, and something which annoyed him to no end. [color=saddlebrown]“You already know who I am, so I won’t bother introducing myself,”[/color] he said and looked at her and the Dragonborn in turn. [color=saddlebrown]“I saw the two of you in Roshmi. You fought a warforged there, did you not?”[/color]

He paused for a moment, then turned to pack up his tools. [color=saddlebrown]“I’m guessing that the warforged you want fixed is the same one you tried so hard to destroy. Not unless you have another one tucked away somewhere. I don’t think that’s the case, though.”[/color] Turning back to the pair, he continued, [color=saddlebrown]“Surely you can see why things feel suspicious to me. Why are you going through so much trouble to fix an enemy? I’m not saying I won’t do it, but I want to know more before agreeing to anything. And I want a guarantee that I won’t find a knife in my back once I leave with you.”[/color] He paused again and shrugged. [color=saddlebrown]“Some have tried that before.”[/color]