northclifflogs | [Open!] I'm New In Town!

WHO: Fíadh and whoever wants to meet her.
WHAT: Fíadh has arrived and taken over the blacksmith shoppe. Hope no one has issues with that.
WHEN: A few days after the Shepherds' fun.
WHERE: The Smithy
NOTES: Let's have a doozy!

Maybe it's the sound of clanging metal, or the plume of inky black smoke billowing from the chimney-top, but if someone was to come and take a look they'd find the blacksmith back open for business. But if they were expecting a different proprietor, they were about to get a shock. A shock in the form of a very tall woman with choppy blonde hair, currently scrubbing aggressively at a nasty rust stain spread across her anvil. Teeth gritted and eyes narrowed, it's a pure look of concentration and determination scrunched into her face.

At her feet is a decent-sized pack on its side, a few clothes and baubles spilling out to the floor. One might think she simply tossed it to the floor before immediately getting to work. But the second Fíadh saw this shop, and this rusted anvil, she knew she has to be the one to take care of it. That's just how she operates. Of course just barging in and taking over has never been the best way to ingratiate yourself upon a community, but Fíadh has never been very good at that. With any luck it will go over better here than the last few towns, but if not ... well, she'd burn that bridge when she crossed it.

Besides, when it comes down to it, she knows she won't stay here for long. She never does.

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Something in his face changes when she says her name, but it's difficult to pinpoint. It's probably common, not spelled like it sounds-- or how he thinks it is, anyway.

"Do you--" he stammers, getting back to business, "-- do you mean to stay on as the blacksmith? Or are you passing through?"

She doesn't know what to make of the change in his expression or how he seems to stammer, but not out of trying to analyze. It's that no one even taught her the social vocabulary for it; her best guess is that he got a sudden bout of indigestion. But her brow still furrows while thinking over his question. It takes probably a beat or two longer than normal conversation for her to answer.

" ... I'll stay as long as I need to- as long as I'm needed."

A slip, or could it be construed as clarification? She doesn't let herself dwell on that too long.

"Who are you? The town watch?"

He nods.

"The Captain," he clarifies, and gives a proper, if stiff, little nod of greeting. "Lance." Unless-- no, no need to volunteer anything unsolicited.

"...the inn is that way, if you need food and a bed," he says in a quiet voice, nudging his head in the right direction, "and the chapel, and fountain," the opposite way. What else could a person need?

"Good to know."

Ah, that makes sense then. Captain. Her muscles seem to relax a fraction, she's certainly not against local law. Well, okay, generally not against. But the Captain seems like he's only checking up on the new activity, nothing else. And if he's used to checking in ...

"Does Northcliff Pass get mostly people only passing through? How many tend to stay?"

"Not many," he admits, "but. There's work for those who do. And... and if you're a decent blacksmith, I expect you'll find your feet soon enough." A tiny smirk flits across his face. If she's genuine, and simply wants to be part of the town, he's not going to fault her for that: people have come in under worse circumstances, after all.

"I will."

There's no pride or smugness in her voice, just an obvious truth. She flits her eyes to the ground and furrows her brows, thinking. This next question could be seen as ... odd. But her real reasoning for arriving so abruptly will come around sooner or later, it always does. She just prefers to keep as much to herself as she can.

"Do you keep any record of people who have passed through or stayed?

He does seem a bit surprised by the question, but supposes it's reasonable enough: it's not impossible to think someone might follow someone else here.
"Only if they've been arrested," he replies, "...is there... someone you're looking for?"

"Friends," she says quickly. A little too quickly, probably. But hey it's not a lie, she's certainly friends with them. After all who isn't friends with their dads?

"They wouldn't get themselves arrested, I doubt there's anything then."

She shifts a bit uncomfortably, no longer tense from caution but still a little stiff with awkwardness. Unsure how else to end the conversation, she then turns back to the table with half-sorted nails and resumes her task. She's gotten all she's needed out of this exchange.

He's not sure he likes how quickly she deflected the question, but people are cagey for different reasons. He'll let it alone for now, and keep an eye on her in the meantime.

When she turns away, Lance just gives a little nod and does the same. No need for proper goodbyes if neither one feels inclined to give one. That, at least, he can appreciate.

[Open!] I'm New In Town!

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