Snippet #2407264

He looked down at her as she pulled up her hood, frowning. Had he said something wrong? Did she hate his guts and wished to never see him again? He shook himself and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was probably over reacting. Obviously the subject of where she was from was made her uncomfortable, so he decided to change the subject. "Well you did good in finding your way to Willowspeak! No town I know of quite like it." He scratched his chin and muttered. "Not that I really know of other towns." He grinned and kept talking anyway. "Everyone's very nice, and there's hardly any crime. Place is chock full of heroes though, so I'd avoid the taverns when it gets late." Going into a tavern frequented by heroes anytime past sunset was a sure fire way of getting into a decent brawl, as big men and strong liquor tend to mix like that.

He drew the length of iron wood he'd collected from the Treant and took a good look at it. It was the perfect size for a greatsword handle, so he drew a whittling knife and slowly carved the desired shape into the wood. Once he got the rough shape of what he wanted, he could true it up with some files, drill a hole down the center, and create the proper fittings. That would only take a few hours, but he didn't have the tools for all that in his bag, so it would have to wait until they returned to town.