Guard Set

Grian slapped the table and pointed at the middle-aged blacksmith. "In short, I wouldn't take this junk even if you gave it to me! Bring me some decent equipment! And cut the price by at least half to make up for my wounded feelings! Otherwise, I'll report you to Dughan and see if you can keep this smithy open!"

When Shawn heard that, his eyes widened and his jaw nearly hit the floor.

Damn, I knew better than to think this old man was so noble.

What was all that about looking out for his men? What was all that about worrying they'd get hurt? The guy had made the whole thing up! He'd gone on and on just to drive down the price!

Old Grian wasn't a pushover, but did that mean the middle-aged blacksmith was one?

The man wasn't intimidated at all. He tossed his hammer onto the table, folded his arms, puffed out his chest, and sneered. "Old Grian, do you think I was born yesterday? If I hadn't greased the right palms, would I dare open a smithy in Goldshire? Go complain to Lord Dughan if you want! Let's see if he still wants my annual tribute and all that tax money! Hmph! Buy or don't buy, I don't care. If you're not buying, get out and stop disrupting my business!"

Grian's expression changed in an instant. His furious scowl vanished, replaced by a fawning smile. "Heh, well, we can work something out! Look, I'm here to make a big purchase. You've got to give me a discount, right? How about forty percent off? Forty percent—what do you say?"

At the words "big purchase," the middle-aged blacksmith's eyes visibly lit up. He planted both hands on the table, his arrogant expression easing as his nearly closed eyes opened wide and gleamed. His monolids even transformed perfectly into double eyelids. "How big a purchase?"

Grian immediately regained the commanding presence of the People's Militia commander. He swept out a hand and declared grandly, "Five hundred suits of chainmail, five hundred greatswords, and all the other matching gear. I'll take one of everything!"

The middle-aged blacksmith blinked and raised an eyebrow. "Have you got the money?"

Just like that, Grian was looked down on.

But the man didn't get angry. Instead, he looked smug, as though to say, "I've got money," and smiled without a word.

The middle-aged blacksmith got the message.

The old rascal had probably found a bunch of fools with more money than sense somewhere, then sweet-talked and swindled a pile of cash out of them. That was why he was buying complete sets of gear for his ragtag band of hard-luck soldiers for the first time ever. More than three hundred soldiers, one set each, plus extras to replace damaged gear—five hundred sets. Now that was a big purchase!

The middle-aged blacksmith didn't waste any time. He knew Old Grian well enough to realize that haggling with him would get him nowhere, so he made his offer. "One price: twenty percent off! Take it or leave it. Otherwise, out you go! Try another shop!"

The middle-aged blacksmith was confident.

After all, where else could Grian go?

His was the only smithy in Goldshire. The next closest were in Stormwind City and Lakeshire. Lakeshire was far too distant, at least a ten-day journey. And those greedy bastards in Stormwind City would charge even more than he did. If Old Grian didn't buy from him, where else could he go?

Sure enough, Grian worked out the same logic. Twenty percent off wasn't bad, so he slapped the table and said, "Deal!"

Then it was time to inspect the goods.

The middle-aged blacksmith beckoned, and several apprentices brought a pile of samples out of the storeroom and laid them all on the table. Then he began his sales pitch.

"The Charger Set includes a suit of chainmail, a greatsword, and a tactical dagger, all made from solid iron. Simple and practical. It also comes with an oak shield reinforced with an iron covering. Only ten gold a set—eight gold after the discount. Fair price, right?"

"The Ironforge Warrior Set includes a suit of chainmail, a greatsword, a tactical dagger, and an iron hammer. It's forged from iron and bronze, with a little silver mixed in. Heavy and practical, with excellent defense. Oh, it also comes with a wooden round shield. Twelve gold a set, or nine gold and sixty silver after the discount. I'll throw in a helmet and charge you ten gold. How's that?"

"The Bronze Scout Set includes a suit of light armor, a one-handed sword, a tactical dagger, a shortbow, and twenty arrows. The armor's made of bronze, the sword and dagger of fine steel, and the shortbow of premium vinewood. It's light and easy to use. Fifteen gold a set, or twelve gold after the discount. What do you think?"

The middle-aged blacksmith grew more excited with every word, while Grian's face grew darker.

He didn't even need to count on his fingers. At the prices the blacksmith had quoted, even the cheapest option would cost four thousand gold for five hundred sets. Add in the other military supplies, and five thousand gold probably wouldn't be enough.

What a crooked merchant!

But Grian knew the middle-aged blacksmith wasn't actually charging that much. It was just that all the equipment he'd listed was too high-end. Grian couldn't afford it.

Was this guy doing it on purpose? He had to be doing it on purpose, right?

When the middle-aged blacksmith got to the fifth set, Old Grian cut him off, his face dark. "Five gold! Five gold per set, max! I only want equipment that costs five gold at most! Anything more, forget it!"

The middle-aged blacksmith had been in the middle of an enthusiastic pitch. Hearing that, he muttered "Broke bastard" under his breath, then lost interest. He ordered one of his apprentices, "Go on, bring out the set that makes us the least profit!"

What kind of equipment made the least profit?

The kind with no engraved patterns, no fancy shapes, and no decorations—just the bare minimum of protection. Sturdy and durable, but ugly as sin.

Pointing at the set the apprentice brought over, the middle-aged blacksmith said listlessly, "Guard Set. Bronze and wrought iron. Five gold a set; I'll let you have it for four. Take it, take it!"

It was a standard-issue suit of chainmail, custom-made for the Goldshire guards several years ago. But it had long since been phased out. Nobody in all of Goldshire wore it anymore, because it was simply too ugly. There was no limit to how ugly it was.

But Grian was very pleased.

Shawn used Eye of Insight on it and thought it looked pretty good too.

It was just an ordinary white-quality set, yet its armor defense was five points. That was already the limit for ordinary equipment. One more point and it would be a green-quality item. And it only cost four gold—far better value than those good-looking but useless sets.

Grian swept out a hand. "That's the one! Give me five hundred sets!"

The middle-aged blacksmith nodded. "Five hundred sets, two thousand gold. The smithy will put everyone on the job, and with the ones we've already got lying around, we can have them all ready in ten days. Anything else?"

Grian chuckled. "Of course there is! Look, I'm the marshal of Sentinel Hill and the commander of the People's Militia. I ought to have a decent set of gear myself, right? Pick out something good for me—expensive and useful!"

Five hundred Guard Sets would cost two thousand gold, leaving three thousand of the five thousand gold. After buying the other supplies, he'd probably still have at least a thousand left. He had to get himself something nice!