No, just more people staring.

I cross the threshold of the Standout Inn onto the street. It's a bright day with a high sun casting splendid warmth, but I can't spend too much time with the sun on my face, already getting a few stares from some random people. I shy away from them then, doing my best to just get past them and easily enough getting close to the smith’s shop up the road. On second thought, a hood would be nice again I think, as the people I pass each continue to take glassy-eyed drags on my form without any shame.

The tinkle of a bell lets me know that they’re left behind me, the shop door closing and taking the street from view. Looking around, there’s displays of weapons, armors, even a few other things like chairs, watches and rings. The smith here seems to be pretty talented, probably an old dwarf or someone who spent at least a couple decades in the mountains with them. Some of the trinkets are astoundingly high quality, engraved with poems of passion or artworks worthy of acclaim. They probably cost a fortune unless you’re some rich noble.

“Hey!” I call out. No reply comes back. Maybe they’re out at the moment? I try calling again, “is anyone here?!” Again, there’s no reply, almost like no-one’s home, despite the door not being locked. It's not like a smith to just leave a shop unattended, especially considering the quality on display here.

Grumpily, a big dwarf comes out of the back, wearing nothing but a loincloth to cover his parts, leaning on the curtained archway to the back areas. He’s a foot taller than me, clearly strong and able. It’s likely that he owns the shop, and if I had to guess, he probably just woke from a nice dream. Hopefully I didn’t piss him off much.

“Whadduya want ya goddamn cock. Yer like a rooster, the way yer calling at this hour of the mornin’.” He says rudely. A bit taken aback at the insult, I almost curse him on the spot, but it strikes me that he’s not a brick wall like everyone else. I also don’t know any other smiths in town that’ll make this quality and if I had to guess, the nearest would be a town in the other direction of home.

Lowering my voice a bit, I apologize to him, “yeah, well, it’s almost midday is all and I thought you would be open by now so I’m sorry for being so loud. It’s not like there’s any mention of you opening so late and the door was unlocked…”

Half listening, he smirks momentarily, before his eyes widen at me suddenly, “It’s bloody what now!? Lad, it’s me who should be sorry, I must’ve dozed off after opening. Jus’ give meh a few moments.” The dwarf heads back at that, and I don’t say anything else, going back to perusing the shelves and admiring his handiwork.

There's a sword rack on the wall nearest, and a heavy shield like a gate standing next to it. What catches my eye is hanging beyond them, a necklace with a jewel the size of my fist. It's a refined gemstone, grinded down and polished to probably half the size the raw thing was. Inside it though is a symbol, like a spell or skull, but it's hard to make out properly. Before I can get a proper look, the dwarf comes back out, this time with considerably less skin showing.

This is the type of smith I was expecting, displaying much more energy than before and cleaning up the tone he took with me, “Alright lad, what can I do fer yeh. If I am ‘memberin’ correct, yer kind wol’ be after tools and…” he says, slowing down as he comes to look at me properly. Clearly, he is still just like everyone else on the issue of freezing up.

Nervously laughing, I try to move him on by wandering back into the shelves and away from his view, fidgeting with the nearest band of simple metal. “Well! About four picks and a couple of knives should do.” I say, remembering exactly what I was told to get despite the now awkward situation.

“…huh? Ah! Alrigh’ then, tha’s no problem, I can get ‘em started right away. Anything else you might need?” he asks, with just a tinge too much hope in his voice.

Blushing slightly and trying not to focus on his very obvious staring, I confess that there is something very obviously missing from my attire, “well… I might be in need a couple of new shirts…” I can practically hear his thoughts clog now that I've mentioned my chest. I’m going to have to **** this along if I want anything else done today.

“A tailor, do you know of any? Just any will do, really the first one that comes to mind would be great…!” I say, hoping it’ll get him to start thinking properly.

I hear him take a deep breath before responding, clearly trying his best to also clear his own mind, “aye...uh... Aye! Yer lad, thar’s one awhile nort’. Jus’ follow uh, up that way…”

Quickly, I walk back out from the shelves and head for the door, “perfect, I’ll be back with payment in three days!” I say, glad i didn't stray much from the front door. Having practically sprinted outside, I only caught a glance at his form, but it was still enough to see his red face and the hand over the front of his belt. Collecting my requested tools later was going to be an absolute pain. At least he hopefully won't make me pay too much.