The next morning, the party enters the smithy, where Thorgrim is hammering away at the anvil.
<Inglor> "Good morning, Thorgrim. We've come to take a look out your wares."
<Thorgrim> "Mornin', lad! Feel free ta look around and lemme kno' if ya find something ta yer likin'." insert more dwarvish smalltalk
Inglor browses the shop's many articles. Axes, hammers and maces of good to excellent quality. Dwarf favourite weapons, but not something an elf would prefer to fight with.
Ah, the next shelf appears to contain daggers and swords. Inglor picks up the longest sword he can find (good quality longsword (defensive)) and tests it out. Well balanced, but a little heavy for a swordfighter with only moderate skills like Inglor. A lot more training and practice will be required to become a skilled close-combat fighter.
He beckons Nuviel and hands her the sword.
<Inglor> "Hey Nuviel, check this out. I think you'll like this."
Inglor continues to search, but it's apparent he will not have to spend gold today for a new weapon. The few available bows look good, but they can hardly be compared to the bow his father gave him when he came of age.
When he gets to the armour stand, he picks up a mail coif. His headwound is healing well, but it's still pulsating at times. The headache is better then the day before, but it did prevent him from having a good night's sleep.
<Inglor> "Thorgrim, I think I found what I need."