“What do you think, Meddler? Should I buy it?” The old man turned to the Kaduraan and noticed his furrowed brow immediately.
“Dee location is good. But it angers me a bit that he would consider charging for it.”
The old man’s face crinkled a bit at the notion. “I might wait him out a little while. I told him if he can get that for it, to go ahead.”
The pair found the door to the shop locked. Slayton cupped both hands on the outside of the window to peek in. The workshop was quite a bit bigger than his apartment, and devoid of any furnishings. Though he figured he could fill it up quick enough. His apartment above the Risk was getting messy. It had eventually earned him a nickname from a new friend. Truth was, tripping over logs and ingots and wrappings and whatnot wasn’t exactly good for the old man’s health and safety. One of these days, he’d catch a toe on a board or something and break his damn hip.
Looking through the glass, visions had started to pop into mind of how he might arrange his worktable. How he might be able to display his wares. Might even bring James in and let him sell from there.
“Eh. I’ll catch up to him later. See if I can talk him down a bit.” He thought aloud.
-- A few days later --
In the meantime, he’d meet and grow closer to a new face in the province. A wise woman. Near seasoned as long as he was. Slayton had always been one for trying to help a little bit to each new face he’d meet. But this time, it was a little different. Perhaps she reminded him too much of someone else, and that was hard to ignore.
“The soil is much richer here in the province than back home.” She stated. And perhaps that was enough to pique the man’s interest. He decided at that moment that his new goal was to help her feel more settled in the province. He would make it a point to aid her in tools and what little knowledge he had about growing things here. After all, the soil here was different from Ghaenthgrad as well.
Her elation at watching growing crops and excitement of figuring out how to make them healthy felt very familiar to him. His late wife had been the same way – giddy over finding mushrooms or growing the perfect head of cabbage. The Tribal Woman's warmth was enough to fill a cold void he had carried as of late.
"Oh. This is your tent? I've purchased a couple tools from this man," she stated.
"James. Yes Ma'am. Let me get you the coin back for what you've bought," he returned. The Wise Woman tried to refuse but Slayton would not let her, already fishing a few coins out of his pocket.
"I could use a man like this to sell some things for me."
James Vaughn let out a crooked grin and insisted he knew a woman who could take that job. His own wife, Rochelle. She would be set to start working alongside him in the morning. And Slayton would charge no more than one copper per month for the space.
-- A week later --
"You still interested in that Workshop, Old Timer?" the dealer inquired. Slayton had made his way up to the Captain's Quarters, even if he was late for the games.
"No takers huh?" The old Miner coughed after he asked and provided a rosy faced smile to hide try and hide his embarrassment.
"None serious." The boy answered.
"Hmm," Slayton paused. "I've pondered on it for a bit. Even thought of how I might arrange it. But Ten Gold is too steep. What's your bottom coin on it?"
The young man's smirk turned downward slightly. "Could you do Six?"
Six was very doable, at least in the old man's head. Hel, ten was doable if he wasn't lying to himself. Six coins might've been more than what anyone else had been willing. And truth be told there may not have been anyone else willing to buy it anyway. Jakell was not exactly well-received by many. He had already considered letting the boy waste another month's rent on the empty shop. See if he couldn't just snatch it for nothing. But he had considered already that his own apartment had grown far too unorganized. The pair made their way down to the workshop to finalize the deal.
Now the issue of exactly how to fix it up. How to actually use the space. He'd already decided, even if he did purchase the shop, to let James and his wife stay in the tent outside the Fort. That location was good enough he thought. So the workshop would be mostly just that, along with a living quarters and storage.
-- The next day --
The old man set himself to work; moving all his gathered belongings down the stairs. "How can one man accumulate so much junk in the course of a few months?" he'd ask himself aloud. Tired bones and aching back, he decided to take a break for tea. Upon his return to the shop, he met a young lass, strong of back and vibrant of purple hair.
"Whatcha doin?" she asked after they had exchanged pleasant greetings. "Need some help?" she would ask after he had told her of his chore.
The man's bottom lip puffed and he paused before answering. "I wouldn't want to put ya out on such a boring task Lass."
"Oh it's no problem at all," the western lass returned. "I'd love to help! I'm not doing anything anyway."
The old man considered her a moment before he gave her a smile and nodded. It was good to have help. Even if it might have made him feel helpless. But the lass hung in there with him. She repeated that she could carry more and more each time he'd hand her something. Truth was, it would have taken him days to get it all moved. The aid of a giddy young lass was a welcome sight.
It would still be a few days more before he was ready for guests and customers. He set to work on organizing his Messy TeePee.
...