The Old Smith and the Iron Viper

“The town guard?” Ruith took a moment, her hand pressed against the side of her face before looking back at Dulrik. Her eyes were as cold as ever, they called her the Iron Viper but she was more like a vengeful ice drake. Then again who could blame her. “Actually with the peryton attacks that makes sense.”
“Aye.” Dulrik kept his gaze forward as they marched from the center of Services & Trades Corridor to the Barracks Westgate, snow affixed to his work boots. They needed a wash but the snow would suffice for now. “The town guard have the manpower but could use better equipment and we could use the gold.”
Ruith kept her eyes locked on him, he didn’t need to turn around to know it. It’s the same look she gave him since he arrived in town, disdain. The amount of surprise on her face when he was assigned to teach her could only match a pyromancer if they suddenly cast water spells. Her expression has calmed down a bit since then... He glanced over his shoulder at her, their eyes locked for a brief moment. “What.”
He didn’t justify that with a response, she hates him as much as ever. After what happened with her father and him… He let out a bellowed sigh. “So, I heard a rumor.” Less of a rumor and more of a fact at this point, but it was new to him.
“Which one?” Not the response he imagined but she was as rogue-like as ever. “Dwarves are your favorite customers, any reason?”
“None that involve you.”
“Thank the Forge Mother for that.” The last thing that Dulrik would want is a former apprentice's daughter having a crush on him. Especially one that holds him in the same regard as a no-eye ground worm. Then again she has her uses, this relationship could be a whole lot worse. “Do you know Merave?”
“Of course.”
He waited for her to follow up on what she meant, nothing. What was he the lecturer of a delinquent's lecturer hall in Waterdeep? His first student here had to be her. Which god did he piss off to deserve this… maybe it was actually the Forge Mother. His eyes narrowed as the barracks came into view. She knew the guard but he did not. He cocked his head towards Ruith. “Last I checked, the guard is retired…” Her knuckles brushed around her eyes, did something get in them? His steps halted as he pivoted to look at his student. “You alright?”
“O’ teacher, you’ve blinded me! The sun shined against your crown into my poor eyes. O’ worries me for I cannot see! How would a blind smithy work her station! What if I were to strike my thumb instead of the Mythryl below me!”
His sooten fingers pressed against his eyes. “Real funny Ruith, didn’t know you were an actor in your spare time.” He continued to march forward, where there was snow on his boots there was now water in his socks. “Let’s do our best for the guild.”
“Fair enough.” She made it to the barracks first, an impressive and weighty thud came from her knock. Was she part orc this entire time? A couple of seconds and Ruith let out another before the shoddy spruce door creaked open.
You could see the town guards' noses protrude from the building before the rest of their face.“Who goes?” The guard’s nose tilted down to meet Ruith’s forehead. “Oh, who you selling to today Ruith?”
“Merave Truevale.”
The guard laughed. “That’s why the old captain is here then, alright.”
Shouldn’t the teacher be the one making the deal? Then again it's going well so far and they know her. Dulrik could only imagine that this means the deal would go smoothly. The door closed for a second, either the door doesn’t have metal locks or they were getting ready to negotiate. The two of them were silent, listening for the sounds of boots tapping against the wooden floor.
“How much are we selling for?” He was surprised to hear her speak first, at all, to him even if it was just business.
“Depends on what they want.” His palm brushed against his beard as his stare locked to the door. “We are selling by the batch, so 5 gold per sword... 20 per armor set.” His glance moved to Ruith. “I doubt we would be selling much Mythrite.”
“Too much, a different merchant could probably get them something cheaper.” Unless it was made of the same material as the cart on his way into town… Regardless if it's less than that it was probably shite. “You are right about the Mythrite, they won’t buy unless it's cheap. Not many other than merchants and adventurers can afford the boom prices.” He cocked his eyebrow at the girl, before nodding in agreement with her. Even if she can’t stand him, she has a good sense of business.
The door opened once again, he wasn’t sure but this time it had to be Merave. Compared to the last guard he saw this one had a completely different aura to her. “Ruith, I heard the blacksmith guild sent you.”
“True enough. I heard you came out of retirement.”
“True enough.” The guard looked behind Ruith and locked eyes with me, she looked familiar and it looked like she knew me… Shite. “Why do you have a drunk with you?” Ruith’s had an expression that was fresh to Dulrik, pure delight. Her grin taunted him as much as his late wife used to when he was young. The last thing he wanted to come up right now was his drunken exploits the first week he was in town. The guild almost kicked him out as is, he was in luck not to have Ruith know… well until now. She now had a true weapon against him, a mighty dwarven blade, that she was sure to use later in the night. He glared at her, her expression changed back to business as quick as a mimic can kill a young grave robber. “Oh, no worries Merave the guild has me babysitting a new blacksmith today.”
First he became a fool, then a drunk, and now a child. As talented as Ruith was, Dulrik was never truly become her teacher. If he were being completely honest, in her eyes he was most likely a murder.