First

The blacksmith cleared his throat with a loud cough. "Not to mention, the pay was not bad by any means necessary. He just smacked two pouches of gold coins on the table, each one containing a thousand gold coins inside."

"Damn. I guess we can't blame the guy for working on Spade's weapon, eh, Grim?" Dart whispered to his partner. "I mean a thousand gold coins is no small deal whatsoever…"

Grim nod his head. "Indeed. I am not going to blame you for that, old man." The elven boy responded accordingly. "But don't you think he is going to retrace his steps and come back here?"

The old man took his time as he lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out the window. "I know that, kid. I know. But what have I got to lose, honestly? The Flame Forgery has long left its glory days behind it. If this 'Spade' fellow really intends to end me right here, then what more can I do?"