Dark eyes narrowed only for a moment at the realization that he would be paying quite a bit of money for the rest of the evening spent drinking, though it wasnât really like he didnât have any to spare. At least he was drinking in decent company instead of alone ⊠although, heâd still eventually have to walk home. The mead was certainly nice, smooth as it should be with honey, somewhat nostalgic, but obviously strong. As if the blood that ran under his pale, freckled skin wasnât fiery enough, this stuff was sweet, liquid heat. He offered a lopsided smirk at her mocking his accent, pouring the both of them a second glass,
âNah, Iâm sorry, but I donâ talk âbout my customers ⊠No offense to yerself, oâcourse. Though, Iâll say heâs noâ someone I can meet durinâ the day, if ye know what I mean. Which ⊠ye do. Workinâ here. Anâ all.â The darkling laughed, shrugging his narrow shoulders, and slid the wrapped package in Irisâ direction. He knew what Thirst was. He knew enough vampires, calling a few friends, âItâs a rapier, noâ weighted for a human, jusâ to warn ye. Iâm a blacksmith, anâ makinâ weapons âspecially for their wielders is what I do best. I wasnât here for a fight; all the sparrinâ I do is in my shop in Leeds.â
She was welcome to open it, the blade surprisingly heavy, weighted for the supernatural strength of a vampire and not a mere human. It was slim, and the dark leather of the sheath matched the wrapping of the hilt. The basket was intricately designed, with a matching pommel. It was both elegant and practical, obviously meant to see combat but still look impressive. The creature whoâd wanted it surely was not someone lacking for coin, though if they were indeed a vampire, they most likely had had plenty of time to amass it. Wherever they were, they were missing out.
âSometimes, shyte happens. Hopefully, theyâre noâ dead, well really dead, anâ get back in touch.â Ellis sniffed dismissively, always annoyed by wasting his time crafting something so carefully only for it not to see use. He didnât make wall decorations, after all. Pausing to empty his second drink with a sigh this time, aware of what to expect, he raised the bottle with the arch of a slim eyebrow in case the young woman was waiting for more, âNoâ to say I havenât started a barfight âr two in my time, but I wasnât planninâ on it here.â