It’s been a while since my armour and equipment was refurbished. I can maintain it myself if it’s a fairly straightforward matter of dealing with minor scratches and dents, or a small nick in the edge of a blade. And the armourers and weaponsmiths in the lands can work on anything more serious. But every so often I like to hand the work over to a master of the crafts.
So I collected together the equipment that needed work done, plus the supplies I would need for a journey, and left the lands for a few turns.
It was early morning when I left the hall. In fact the Crier was just calling that dawn was breaking as I set out on the familiar route. That route is one I have not walked for quite some time, but it is one that can never be forgotten.
It’s been far too long since I visited Denion in his smithy. I entered and on hearing me he turned and smiled.
‘Good to see you, Pallas. Just tell me what you want done. There’s a jug of ale just outside.’
It was good to hear his voice rumbling a greeting which seemed to belie the length of time since last we spoke. His tone was as though we’d met just a day or so earlier, containing no question or query as to the long gap in time since I last went there.
We chatted as he worked his magic on my equipment, refurbishing it so that it met even his high standards. He examined his handiwork critically when he was finished. He named a price, which I handed over, promising to not leave it so long until calling in on him again.
We spoke of this and that, discussed everything and nothing the way people do, and caught up on each other’s news.
As is the custom I stayed the night after his work was done. We sat and talked and sipped his fine ale for most of that night before seeking our beds.
It was again early morning when I set out on the return journey. On arriving back in the lands it was clear that all had been kept secure from any major threat. The next generation of adventurers to guard this place we call home had performed admirably. I know that when the time comes it will be with the knowledge that there others able to take up the defence of the lands.
Some things change. And others don’t. It’s all part of the rich tapestry of our lives.