<div class="floatright">(https://giantbomb1.cbsistatic.com/uploads/scale_small/1/17172/1248410-blacksmith.png) </div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong>Martin Weyland</strong></span><br/>Mastersmith and Crossbow Maker<br/><hr/><br/><br/>Martin smiled to the Merchant Lord as he finished his bow, noting even as he gave the shorter man a proper bow that his head was still higher than the southern man’s head. Of course the southerner was just above five foot, even with his copious heeled shoes, whereas Martin was scant inch short of seven feet. It made him profoundly grateful that his shop had been custom built to his own specifications. There was curiosity in the eyes of the three consorts with him, southerner men of means enjoyed many wives, consorts and female servants of various types. He nodded to them in confirmation as they followed their lord out the door. Rumors in the south spoke of ‘Giant blooded’ men like him being ‘gifted’ in ways the women appreciated. He liked to think that he filled that bill quite well.<br/><br/>He smiled as he recalled the years he’d spent in the ‘decadent’ south. He often spoke aloud of the things he missed in the south, such as spiced wines, the soft meats and tasty candies. Of course the things he really missed was the women of the south and the ones trained in the pleasure palaces. He was still half tempted to move south and set up shop there but for the fact that he doubted he’d get half what his shop was worth.<br/><br/>He chuckled as he turned back to the last item of the day, a low thundering rumble, as he rubbed a soft cloth over the honey gold case that was polished to a soft glow before opening the case to look over the two crossbows lying on soft burgundy velvet. Embossed with the crown seal and imagery of harts and does running over the stock and body of the crossbows as well as a dozen bolts for each crossbow. One for the King and one for the Queen.<br/><br/>He thought to himself as he closed and locked the door and stepped into back, shedding his jacket and shirt as he stepped into the back to wash up and dress like a proper master smith for the ceremony. He shook his mane of hair out and dried it as he wondered how long the ceremony would take because he was looking forward to the celebration after.<br/><br/>Soon enough he was washed, coife, a gentle scent of perfume to cover the scent of the forge and clothed in the expensive clothing of a successful artisan and smith. Heading towards the ceremony with the case in his massive hands.<br/>