"Insult?" Pete said, letting himself sound wounded. "I would rather insult my own mother than say a word against you. What I just admitted was to respecting you, the first of the whole elvish race to be worthy thusly. As for your race itself," Pete halted and weighed the words he was about to say. Pete had a moderate need of the smith's skill, but he was not essential to Pete's future plans, and if Koralheim had not teleported him here, Pete would have gone for weeks or even months before seeing Vrael. In truth, Pete would have preferred to have some time to ask people who had already employed the smith's services as to what sort of man he was and what sort of price he demanded, but as it was, Pete was now weighing how he could persuade the smith to work for him, and whether his employment was worth missing an opportunity to insult the elves.<br/><br/>"You are an elf, and from one look, I differentiate between you and all other elves I have met in my years in one crucial area: You are dirty. That is not an insult. But elves, as I know them, are dainty flowers, often with great passion for careers such as our own, but the crucial difference between you and the rest, as I feel now, is that you are going through with your passion. No other elf that has crossed my path will work in a forge without someone to dab his forehead and remove all drops of sweat as soon as they spring. That is my problem with your race as a whole; they are not willing to sacrifice comfort for greatness!"<br/><br/>Pete stepped further inside. His rant must have sounded strange given that he, himself, looked more dainty and fragile than any elf. His elegant clothes, his long red hair, and his smooth skin exemplified everything he had just spoken against.<br/>"Let it never be said that Pete Girly is disrespectful. I will respect any profession if it is your strength. I will condescend to a man who does not even try to be the best he can be, as I settle for nothing less in myself or my loved ones. I settle for nothing less than aspiring to be the best you can be, whether you are a smith, a thief or a swordsman. If you are a beggar then I will bow to you as long as you are good at it. Rumor has it that you are the world's greatest smith, so you deserve nothing less than the same," and Pete made a flourish, bowing deeply and looking down in the floor, exposing the back of his skull should Vrael wish to strike him down.<br/><br/>And then he got back up, and the air of seriousness went out of Pete, and he smiled again for the first time since he entered the forge.<br/><br/>"If you are still interested in my request, then I confess to have spoken too hastily. The quality of striking through stone or steel would be a desirable quality in any sword, but it is not what I truly want. I expect a lesser blacksmith could forge a tip with a special metal or imbued with magic runes. Likewise, I desire a sword that is enduring and does not lose its sharpness with time, and which can be used to deflect an opponentâ€™s blows, like in the plays, banging edge against edge so the sparks flies, destroying your blade in the process. But it is still not my true request, for a lesser blacksmith could do so. My true request has nothing to do with the lethality of my weapon."<br/><br/>Pete dug into his pocket and drew forth a diamond of noticeable size and held it up, so the light of the forge danced within it.<br/><br/>"Whenever I win a duel I place a gem in my sword or my guard. The colour to determine race, size to determine the worth of the opponent. An ordinary blacksmith can socket a gem; a lesser blacksmith than you can socket the gem, and then reforge the sword so that it has the perfect balance to counter the tiny added weight of a gem... but no other smith I have been to have been able to imbue my sword to balance itself. This sword, and especially this hand guard, will see many more gems before I die, and I feel like I betray the weapon each time I have to reforge it. I desire a sword that can last me forever, adding more and more of my legacy to it, with its weight staying the same. I desire a sword I will never have to betray. Can you do this, blacksmith?"