Public and Mercantile Dealings

With his business with the other Cainites concluded, at least for another day, Aserymus strides into the courtyard of the manor once again. The sturdy stone walls and occasional guard patrolling are comforting sights, and he breathes deeply, taking in the subtle scents of oil and smoke and iron from the forgeworks' business of the day before.

Time enough for Demons and tunnels and spiritual threats later. For now, he would get back to the familiar comfort of working with metal and hammer and anvil, and proceeded towards the shop.

As the familiarity of the forge, the smell of smoke and the sound of hammer on anvil wrap themselves about him like a familiar cloak, the Lion stops for a moment to take note of the one distinct difference to the last time he had been here. While the blade being finished was indeed of incredible craftsmanship, the smith herself was of more interest to him.

She held the hilt like it came as naturally as breathing, and while she studied her latest work with a mixture of disappointment and resignation, he studied her. For a long moment, he stood in the far corner of the room, allowing others to peruse and gawk at the other fine works in the front of the shop. Finally, when they seemed to move on to other items, Aserymus made his way towards where she worked.

"Some works are rough and utilitarian, others exquisite and decorative, but fragile. I see you have married both aspects into true masterpiece, both deadly and beautiful. I am impressed...and yet I sense you are unsatisfied with the result."

The Lion eyes her carefully before continuing after a moment. "I am Aserymus, the sometime patron of this workshop. Humour me, how long have you been gifted with the hammer and the anvil?"

The Tunisian listens for a moment until she finishes speaking, and then waits a moment longer, gathering his thoughts. Finally, he speaks, reaching out towards the blade she held. "May I? I have some experience."

Taking the weapon in hand, he runs his palm slowly over the length before gripping the hilt lightly but firmly. Finding the point of balance itself, he held it close, then at length, before moving through a quick series of strikes and guards with it, letting gravity and momentum do much of the work for him.

After the blade comes to a halt, he hands it back to her with respect, and addresses her directly.

"Quinn. You are a master artisan, and this is a testament to your craft. If you came by your talent naturally as you say, then I have no doubt in my mind that in time, you may come to surpass even the renowned masters.

I am Aserymus, formerly of Tunis. Some call me The Lion. I have spent years making and using works of deadly art such as yours. A suggestion?" He motions to the blade she holds again.

"The hilt is good, but perhaps the pommel is a touch over-weighted. Might I suggest some subtle decoration, perhaps filigree etched into it? It would serve to shave off some excess weight, and add further decoration to an already-beautiful masterpiece."

As the woman begins her work, setting about the shop with her tools, the Tunisian sets his shield, spear, and javelins against a wall away from the forge.

"I know Lodewijk, the owner of this forge. His wife is a wonderful host, and his own knowledge of the merchant arts is impressive. When we first came to this city, I helped him and his family establish themselves here. I am...his patron, you might say. I see to the welfare and safety of the Manor, and all those inside it."

Well that settles that, he mused to himself. Fate would seem to be intervening once again, but a good tactician knows not to pass up opportunity when it presents itself.

"I will leave you to your work, but when you are finished, come see me in the back of the Manor." Motioning briefly to the assembled arms and armour arrayed about the shop and smithy, Aserymus continued. "Of all the stunning works on display, I suspect you may be the most valuable and unique one here. I would greatly value the opportunity to discuss your future over a drink, when you are free."

With that, the Lion took up his arms once again, turned and strode towards the back of the forge to the manor grounds beyond, leaving Quinn to the heat and artifice of the forge.

The Tunisian arrives back at the familiar sight of the Manor, and immediately sees a tall figure of dark hair and clothing looking around. Turning to the two Garou companions, he quietly speaks to them briefly.

"It seems I have a business deal to conclude. Please, familiarise yourselves with the grounds. This will not take long."

Approaching the figure, the Lion sets his helmet in the crook of his arm as he turns to face the dark-clad man.

"Balthazar. I hope you have not been waiting overly long. I was unavoidably busy with other matters. To the task at hand though, your commission is complete, and I trust it will meet with your approval. Come, so you can appraise it's worth."

And with that, Aserymus leads the way through the forge to a space behind the shop.Returning after the business in the forge had been concluded, the warrior turned once again to the two companions.

"This will be an area in which you can rest, train, equip yourselves, and come and go freely. After the rest of introductions in the city are concluded, we will return here. For now, we should keep moving."

Setting the large figures of Guinnein and Mordag down in the back testing and training area behind the forge, the Lion quickly checks his own wounds. Some superficial cuts and bruises, and some more significant ones from another Cainite as well. A good reminder not to underestimate them, no matter their allegiances. Still, they would heal in time, and it was good to have something so tangible to prevent one from getting complacent.

Moving away to allow them to rest, Aserymus leaves instructions to Quinn to speak to them and when they return to consciousness once again, but as he moves away he pauses for a brief moment. Then, without any further warning, he checks his arms and armour before setting off from the Manor at a quick pace, disappearing into the streets of the city once more.