The Ashen Crown is restored; the deed is done. The quest is no more. And Vega is without cause or direction yet again. He needs purpose…something to set his sights on and accomplish the task, to extinguish evil along the way so the means can justify the end. Given his most recent challenge and the danger the group encountered, Vega has contemplated about both protection and offensive capabilities of his equipment and how best to re-purpose anything he may have.
Vegakin has a rudimentary understanding of the art of crafting weapons and such. To wield one it is beneficial to know the ins and outs of how your tool of choice is made so as to gauge its quality when perusing a shops wares. After a few days of prayer, and helping the higher priests in the Temple of Tyr with rituals/funerals/sanctifying, he inquired his fellow martial members among the church where they have acquired some items within the city that were not already given from the Temple (its resources can be powerful, but quite limited). Many names were mentioned, some were contradicted and others were supported. Paladins from different walks and with different ideals would praise some shops, and scoff at others. But one name would always get approval, no matter the mouth it was uttered from. Aeche. (you would say it like the letter H) Nothing grand about the name, nothing in the title reveals what their craft even is, or even if is a vendor to begin with.
His curiosity piqued, Vega decided to swing by the district in which this word-of-mouth-renowned smithy/crafter was located. Just on the northern tip of the trade ward, right off Lamp Street, was the shop. Nothing fancy looking, just a simple sign out front with its name, and a single door that was propped open for ventilation. Vega ducked through the door into Aeche, and got his first gander at what was there. It had the typical smells and sounds you’d expect from a craftsman and smithy shop. While looking at the walls that had an array of weapons and armors in different styles, he could hear the craftsman hard at work at the forge.
There were weapons that he was very familiar with……and then others he was not. Their form seemed similar to what he was used to, but the style they were crafted and the overall shape was almost foreign. This smith liked to be creative with some pieces, it seemed. There were also just a few things that you could tell had some sort of…..aura to them. Vega suspected they were magical in nature, but had no way of really knowing. It was more or less a hunch. When he turned to finally talk to the smithy, he had just turned from his forge to pound some metal away on his anvil, and there Vegakin stood quite stunned. The smithy was not at all who he had at least assumed it could have been (dwarf was the on his mind). In fact, it was very far from it. The smith removed his goggles, which appeared quite custom, rubbed sweat off his brow and looked up…way up…at Vega.
“You just going to stand there gawking, or can I help you with something?” the little rock gnome said.