Charlie
Dragor grimaces at seeing the armor but seems to appreciate the golden chalices.
"Oy, kind of rude trying to sell armor to a smith ye know? Especially a shitty one at that. Appreciate the golden chalices though. Always wanted to feel fancier when chugging down my wine. I'll pay 8 gold per a chalice, 2 gold for the armor. Deal?"
Jessica
*Arthur grinned towards the Lora, happy that he got some extra gold from this trade, and also happy that he had less weight to carry on his trips. He hadn't had any use for the armor since he'd already gotten a very high quality one, and didn't have anything to use the chalices on. He was content with the fact that the armor gotten taken off of him; it was an exceptional contributer to the tiredness he always felt when running with his backpack on.*

"You've got a deal," Arthur began. "I presume that this is enough for another enchantment? If thats the case, I'd like something that makes it harder for the sword to leavy my hand. Oh, and also something that can have it do more damage towards bare flesh. That's always great."
Charlie
He grins and takes the chalices and places them atop a nearby shelf. He looks at the armor in disgust and simply tosses it in one of the corners where you see pieces of scrap metal lying around. After picking up his hammer again though he returns to his jovial self "Ye, sounds good to me! Won't even break a sweat! You can sit wherever you can. This may take a while, but I promise you when this grandpa comes back in your hands, it will look like a demigod baby"
Jessica
*Arthur decided to sit himself down on the countertop he had placed the coins on, setting down his backpack on the floor next to it. He didn't blame the Lora for throwing the armor into the scrap heap; Arthur himself thought it was pretty ugly, and he wanted an excuse to get rid of it as well. He started stacking the gold pieces onto one another, creating two 15 coin tall piles of golden tokens stacked next to eachother. He would watch the blacksmith while he worked, and then added an odd request to the mix.*

"Oh, and for aesthetic, can you make the blade black? Also remove the basket hilt, if you will. It always got in the way of my swings."
Charlie
He chuckles "Sure thing boy! Consider it on the house as a fellow employee of the boss!" 

A couple of hours go by, but as Drogar said he wasn't even sweating despite being next to the flaming furnace the whole time and looked like he was having fun during the whole process. Drogar finally pulls it out and lays your sword on the table. As the heat cools down you see your sword reforged with the a new black blade with all the enchantments you requested on it along wit the basket hilt removed. Drogar has a massive smile on his face "See? What I tell ye?! Willing to swallow back your words boy?"
Jessica
*Arthur got off the countertop, smiling towards the dwarf. He didn't know that something as mundane as blacksmithing and forging could be so entertaining to watch. Drogar looked thrilled and excited throughout the hours, and as Arthur gazed upon his new black blade, he knew that it was definitely something special. He took it in his hand, holding it above his head. He felt power emanating from his weapon. Looking at the sword, it shone against the fiery light of the forge, a white sheen contrasting the black of the blade. Finally putting it back down, he placed it in it's sheath, fitting as well as it always had. Holding his hand out to Drogar, he grinned ear to ear.*

"You certainly are something. I take back everything I said!" Arthur spouted in a pseudo-surrendering tone. "You bet I'll be coming back here if I ever need anything else. Count on it!"
Charlie
He grins "Good to hear. I'll be more than happy to have ye as a loyal customer so long as you stay on the boss' good graces and well, don't get caught by them guards. Suggest ye stay low till either this whole thing blows over, or get yerself a disguise. But that's just me" He says with a shrug as he points toward the hallway. "Till next time boy!"
Jessica
*Arthur waved back at the dwarf, stepping outside into the hallway. He retraced his footsteps to the trapdoor, which would lead to the streets pf New Salvainia above. His pockets were drained of gold, but he still had a decent amount of silver left inside his pouch. Besides, he had some more at the bank that he dould withdraw when the time came. He decided to heed what Drogar had said about laying low, and took out his cloak from his backpack, putting it on as a means to cover his face. The wanted posters spread throughout the city would probably not have been distributed yet, seeing that hundreds needed to be hand-drawn. For now, he could continue working at New Sunlight for extra cash. He could even become a page now, if he so desired. Speaking of New Sunlight, he began to wonder what Hitoshi and Mevis were doing in all this snow. Hitoshi was probably off somewhere training his stealth skills, and Mevis was probably reading in the library, or tending to books.*

*As he reached the trapdoor, he decided to stop for a second. A glimmer of light shone through a crack in the door, illuminating a small point in Arthur's face. Deciding to admire his sword again, he pulled it out of it's scabbard, having the small light shine on it's black blade once more. He felt the power in the sword that he had never felt before, and was eager to test it out. However, he had forgotten something very important: A name.*

*Arthur thought for a while, sitting down on the wall near the trapdoor. He pondered what he should name his sword after. Maybe something fierce, like "Slanoth, Flesh's Bane?" Or something more mild, like "Tunin, Protector of the Pure?" Thinking and thinking, he would eventually reach the perfect name.*

*Arthur remembered his father bringing him under an olive tree on those bright, summer days. His father, Rasmus, would always be the one to tell him that things were always going to be alright. To hold onto your ideals, and never let go.*

*"One day," He said, "You will find that you will lose faith in yourself. You will lose faith in your abilities. You will lose faith in those you look up to. Remember what we discuss under this olive tree, Arthur, because your ideals are always going to rest here, no matter where you go. Things will always be alright if you remember your origins, and if you look to the bright future ahead of you. Well, I suppose that's just a fancy way of me saying that your family's always here for you, heh. That scores a point in my book!"*

*Things did not turn out 'all right.' His father's head on a stake was a gruesome sight against the blazing fire of his home, and is one of the things he will never forget seeing. The olive tree burned up in the background, along with all his ideals, family, and home. Burned to the ground, burned to ashes, then gone with the wind.*

*Gazing at his sword, he would name it, whispering the words aloud to the dark silence of the hall.*

**"Rasmus. Shatterer of Ideals."**

*He then opened up the trapdoor, and headed out into the alleyway he had come in from before. His cloak covering his head and ears, he put the sword back in his scabbard. He looked up, and saw snow falling from the sky in numerous amounts. Hell, it was already on the ground he walked on! He savored the crunch sound it made, and kicked it in a sort of frenzied dance. After cooling down a bit, he exited the alleyway onto the main road of the city, heading towards the gates. He would walk through, and continue the trail back to the New Sunlight alpha base.*