Beve could only shake her head at Bamut's comments regarding her supposedly irresistible<i>charms</i>. There had been and would certainly would be occasions when that would have come in handy, yes, but the half-elf was certainly not such one occasion.<br/><b>"I shall save that for a &lt;last resort&gt; type of situation, hm? Until such a time, the elf man and I are on a strictly professional basis."</b>Beve said, conviction in her tone:<b>"But if you're singing his praises so much, how come it's not <i>you</i> who's making a move on him?"</b>She teased back, albeit a lot more weakly than her orcish friend who was clearly more well-versed in the art of bothering her peers.<br/><br/>It was not an exaggeration - she would very likely cry if she broke a nail, Beve thought, hiding her excitement well as she could tell Bamut was giving her suggestion serious consideration. She lasted a whole of two seconds before she clapped her hands and let out a giggle that she barely, just barely, kept from breaking into a full on squeal of delight.<br/><br/>Bamut worked fast and skillfully. It was no wonder that she was one of the most sought after blacksmiths in the area. People would travel long and risky distances merely for the chance of placing an order with the orc. Standing in front of the mirror, admiring her getup, it was very easy to see why. Beve was at a loss for words - almost as though someone had delivered a heavy blow to her chest and knocked all the air from her lungs - as she admired her clothing.<br/>She was accustomed to wearing expensive outfits, but the human girl had never in her life felt more pleased with the reflection that stared back at her in equal bewilderment.<br/>Her eyes grew wide as her clothing took on the slightest glow, making her feel as though she herself was a creature of magic.<br/><b>"You...Bamut."</b>Beve started, twisting and turning her body so that she could see the outfit from every angle:<b>"You are truly a miracle worker."</b><br/>A pirouette later, Beve turned to face her friend.<br/><br/><b>"I do hope we do not run into any trouble that might put your good work at risk. I'd so hate to see this outfit touched by even an unfortunate spill, let alone a sword slash."</b>Beve commented.<b>"Are you sure, though, that you can afford leaving the forge behind for however long it takes us to complete this little quest we're setting on? Perhaps if you left a message with the inn, they'd send someone to run it while you're absent."</b><br/><br/>But maybe not. Bamut did not seem the kind to like her business being run by others. And besides, she was not a crazy spender - as long as the spending didn't somehow relate to odd materials that she could use for her creations. Odds were, that even with a prolonged absence, Bamut would still be able to support herself, as well as continue her work where she left off upon returning to the mountains.<br/>It was not a great concern that the forge would be temporarily abandoned, but there was an odd feeling of loss about it that Beve had thought best to address. That forge had stayed lit since the very first time she'd come to the inn, almost a decade before, after all.<br/><br/><b>"It feels like such a shame to leave it...you know."</b>Beve said, gesturing around the room.<b>"But, hey, it's your forge, I'm sure you've already thought about a solution for precisely this scenario anyway. All's under control, right?"</b>Turning to look around, almost theatrically, Beve let out a little frustrated sigh. Her attention had abruptly turned towards the still missing half-elf.<b>"Where'd you think he ran off to? How long does it take to get supplies for a journey?"</b>She shook her head, although she knew full well she had not the slightest clue of the efforts involved in preparing for a long departure.