I took a strole outside of Cove, With my hands in my pockets, enjoying the uncommon sunlight and the singing birds! Birds! Seems like the archers of Cove has been away for a while.
As i said, I was doing nothing in particular, when my inner voice started talking to me...
- Hello there!- Aiiee!- Dont be silly, its me thats talking in my head.- Oh, right, right- If I'm not mistaken, I'm a smith, right?- Sure am, has always been!- So, how long was it since you worked with metal? Repaired your covian protectors suit of armour?- Oh, thats been a while since last time, i guess...- Isn't it time to do something, then?With this voice, silently began to fade away, it left a mark on me. I have to repair some guards armour. If not, I don't have the right to call me a smith anymore.
So, i went to the barracks to see if there wore any beaten up guards with armour needed to be repaired. There was noone there..
I went to the dragoon Headquarters, to pherhaps find a dragoon with a crack in the shield? There wore noone there either...
So, in my last desperate attempt to redeem my name as a smith, I went to the Grenadiers headquarters, just to find some flowers drying out. I
urinat... watered the flowers, and wondered what to do next..
If the armour wont come to me...
In enthusiam of my great idea, and dizzled over the bottle of rum, i went to the new covian stores and started working on repairing the items...
Well, i finished repairing the items, and went back and put them in the place they would normally have, even the empty bottle of rum. All proceeded well, except for a minor bump in the plate helm.
I went home, threw off my shoes, and sat down in my comfortable chair, drinking a beer and reflecting my day. I'm a smith!
*Signed in thick handwriting*
Farfar.
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