Gustav looks the room around with a humble satisfaction.  It has been some time coming, but he is proud of what he has built.

The bar is no colosseum, only standing some forty feet wide and maybe just a bit longer across, but the bare walls of clay brick and mortar bare the whole of Gustav's life across their walls.  There is a narrow rail of a bar, only a few feet from the back wall, behind which Gustav surveils the premises.  The taps are already installed, the already used barrels of beer now souring in the back store rooms.  Gustav is no chemist, though he has spent some time looking at the interactions between yeast and grain, and surprisingly Terri has had much to offer on the topic.

But it is more than the business.  Gustav's life is spread out across the walls of the bar on iron studs, his very existence nailed into the walls with iron studs.  Just there, the massive two-handed axe hangs, a prize from his incursion into the Witten Asylum.  Next to it, a broadsword from the bandits who had inhabited the caves just north of Three Corners.  At the center of the bar, certainly the favorite of the visitors so far, is his medal from the Duke of Craine, despite the fact that it was Judoc, not him, who had slain the Necromancer, Haj-Umr.  Near the end is Gustav's favorite prize, The massive lizard's tooth from Perdition, though few may make any mark of it amongst the absurd batons-on-chains from Perdition or his other pointed sword from... Gustav can't even remember where from anymore.

All together, the walls splayed with his exploits and his business already boasting a permanent employee in Sajaaa, Gustav cannot complain for his lot in life.  But things still seem to constantly want for his attention despite the fact that he has not yet really opened for business.

Almost as if responding to his thoughts, the door of the bar room opens.  Gustav takes in the form of a Nubian man, quite as dark as Sajaa, though almost six feet tall, powerfully built and entirely bald, step through the doorway to his establishment.  The man seems to spent nearly as long as Gustav surveilling the various weapons on display.

"This is quite a collection."  The man says, in a heavy Aralaise accent.  It is not quite the dialect of Sauvons, of home... though clearly this man is from one of the isles...  perhaps Bilit or one of the Rings.  "I had heard there was a noble from Araterre here, a swordsman, but I had no idea you would be so worldly..."

This is a private thread for Gustav

OOC:  This thread doesn't fit in on any timeline, as prior to the Return to the Caves of Chaos, Gustav's bar is not quite yet built.  Therefore, it is assumed that the actions take place after the Return to the Caves of Chaos, despite the fact that this thread chronologically happens prior to that thread.  Suffice to say, this thread simply exists because it serves the purposes of both the player and the GM.  Any discrepancies can be blamed on the fact that the GM is a megalomaniacal control freak, who insists on having his way regardless of the naysayers and the rules lawyers.

Greetings, how may I help you? We are not open yet, but still it has been a long time since I heard my native tongue.

Gustav watches the man, as with the light behind him, there is much he cannot see clearly, although he got a momentary view as he stepped in from the light. He finds his saber, just in case. His shield is stuck behind the bar in to short grooves to make it ready very quickly.

When Gustav asks how he can help the man, the dark-skinned Arlaise merely shakes his head for a moment.  Gustav lets his hand settle down to his saber, his first, and most comfortable weapon, though in truth, Gustav feels a twinge in his stomach when he realizes that it is not the worn leather hilt of the black sword.

That blade still rests upon the counter, just below where Gustav was going to hang it.  The insidious blade that he won from the Bone Golem, it turned out, did not see fit to be hung on a taproom wall.  For every time Gustav made to hang the weapon up in retirement (and there had been several), Gustav could not bring himself to do anything more than draw the blade from its scabbard and admire it, remember the blood he had taken with it, and hunger for the next battle which was to come.

It seems the other man thoughts travel towards the same direction, for his own eyes land upon the blade just as he makes to respond to Gustav.

"No, I had come here to pay my respects.  I am Tonton, a swordsman myself...  Shoooo.  What is this?"  The man steps over to the black sword, his dark eyes aglow as he brings his face near down to the counter to look at it.

"May I?"  He asks, turning his head, though he has already reached out his hands to grip the ancient blade and lift it free from its scabbard.

In truth, had he an extra moment to react, Gustav would likely have said no.  For even as the man reaches for the sword Gustav is nearly overcome by a visceral instinct to wrench his blade free and thrust it between the man's ribs...  But Gustav masters the impulse, at least for the moment.  The red behind his eyes settles...  It was the sword's doing...  The man had done nothing to wrong him.  It was Just one more reason he had to retire the accursed weapon.

"Exquisite!"  The man remarks as he holds the blade aloft, its obsidian edge glistening in the beam of late afternoon sun that stretches in through the open door.  "It is quite old no?"  He asks, looking at the hilt and the faded steel designs.

It is, and very blood hungry. I think it may be cursed.

"Blood hungry?"  Tonton asks in a quiet voice, no longer really considering Gustav but only the sword itself.  He seems engrossed by the sword, taking the blade not so much with his eyes but with his whole self.

"Perhaps it it cursed then."  Tonton admits, dropping the blade back down to the counter and replacing it within the sheath slowly.  "But I come from a place where they know much of curses my friend.  What is baneful to some can often be put to use by another if it is turned in the right direction."

Tonton releases the weapon, putting it down on the counter before narrowing his eyes slightly and pulling his own sword from his sheath, offering it hilt first to Gustav.

"If you think your sword cursed, then perhaps you are willing to exchange for it?  Mine is not quite so old I think, but it is the height of Arlaise craftsmanship."

Gustav considers the offered weapon, a saber none the less, and one of a finer make than Gustav has ever seen.  The curvature of the blade is perfection and the edge is razor sharp.  The hilt seems of embellished bronze and the grip is wrapped in soft leather with a single, knuckle-sized ruby set at the pommel.

It does not take Gustav much investigation to know that this sword is both highly functional and worth a fortune.

"I will trade my sword for this...  I assure you mine has no curse to go with it."

OOC:  I rolled both Armoury and Merchant for you, which determined that the blade's make is very fine.  It also has embellishments and the single red stone at the pommel which would increase the price from there.  A fair estimation, based on the everything you can see, puts the cost of the sword probably well over $15000.

Gustav steps clear of everything where he can feint, thrust and swing the saber.
It is indeed a very fine blade indeed, do you know which maker crafted this ?

As for the cursed sword, it seems controllable at first, but as time wears on and you use it, it's grip on you becomes much harder to control.
I warn you that it is beyond a mortal to control in time.

Gustav takes the weapon and steps back, testing the balance, on which he can find no flaw.  It is a masterwork for certain and he is interested to know who is the maker.  Tonton hesitates slightly at the question, though not so long as to make Gustav think he's attempting evasion.

"I'm afraid I don't know the smith who crafted it.  It was a gift from...  the Duc Remis d'Ansonne so I can assure you that it is quite genuine."

Gustav presses on to his own sword, attempting to clarify the curse, for though he yearns for the trade, he does not seek to take advantage.

"I thank you for your words."  Tonton smiles lightly, glancing towards the black sword which still lies placidly upon the counter.  "Though I'm afraid they do not disuade me.  In my home, my people have passed down great magics, old magics, which balance the spirits of evil and the spirits of good.  I'm afraid I must always be drawn to something so old, something so magical, even if it is cursed as you say, over something that is merely the make of men."

When Gustav seems unconvinced, Tonton continues, his edged smile widening in disarmament.

"I assure you friend, I feel that our trade is more than fair."

Then let it be so. I have done my duty to warn you, and must trust your knowledge in these matters. I am deeply impressed with this saber, so the trade is good by me.

Gustav actually has some concerns and the tug of the old black blade as well, but he knows he must be away from it, and if this man thinks he has the magics to control it, he has to accede to his wish for the trade.

"Well met then."  Tonton smiles, showing his teeth for the first time as he unbuckles his own sword belt and handing it over to Gustav.  "May the blade bring you as much luck as it has to me."

For the briefest of moments, Gustav is struck by the stark contrast of the man's coffee black skin against his bleach white teeth.  But the thought is gone after a moment, for the man has turned, grabbed the black sword with two hands, and made to fasten it around his own waist.

"Much luck to you then neighbor...  I shall spread the word of your establishment far and wide...  Not that there will be many who will not know of it in such a small town.  But if I have any luck, I shall hope to send as much fortune your way as I believe that you have now sent mine."

OOC:  Feel free to throw in a closing post here.

May God be with you and keep you safe. Perhaps,w e shall meet again under equally good conditions. Care for a beer on the house?