Closed [Sultros Blades] The Brother of the Fang {Haydn}

[Corvos Mist-Hand]

34, Spring, 513 As the early evening rolled on, Corvos walked the streets eying his dagger. "Youre getting dull again old friend." It had been some time since Corvos had seen that his blade was sharpened. Most would suggest that one do it themselves, but his father always taught him that if it could not be done with professional hands, it should not be done at all. The same went for being a thief, either do it for a living, or spend the rest of your life in jail. It was not long before Corvos found his way to the smithy and opened the doors. He appeared as a dark stranger to most, his hood always covering his raven hair and his emerald eyes. As he walked, as usual, he made so little sound at all. It was always practice to him, everywhere he went. If there was a way he could sharpen his skills, he would take every avenue of approach to see that he was the best t what he did. His glance shifted to what looked like to be a familiar face but did not speak. He merely awaited to be addressed. It was odd how he never really called too much attention to himself, even in engaging business of conversation

[Hadyn Skellig]

It'd been a relatively slow day for the blacksmith, patrons milling about for the first part of the morning before disappearing at the thirteenth bell. She was alone in the smithy, her fellow blacksmiths taking their leave for the day. She didn't mind much. Company was always appreciated but there were enough things to do around the shop to keep her quite busy.

She had her back to the door as it opened, standing on her tiptoes to reach the ink jar on the higher shelf behind the counter. It wasn't until the door closed that she realized someone had entered. Turning around quickly she offered the guest a warm smile, finding him somewhat familiar, though unable to place.

"Welcome Sir," she greeted him, stepping up to the counter's surface. "What can I do for you this evening?"

Hadyn couldn't place where she'd seen him before, perhaps a returning customer who'd been received by a coworker, perhaps a face from the tavern. It didn't matter too much but she offered him a smile as she waited. She pushed the thick dark braid off her shoulder before setting her hands on the counter's surface.