Some things
in life you want, some things you like, but there are few real needs in
life: food, shelter, and having the correct armor. Nothing is more
difficult than ill-fitting armor, or more embarrassing than having your
gender mistaken because your top is made for the opposite sex- and with a
full helmet on, sometimes it takes a banker’s eye to tell the difference!
Certainly the
subject of my next interview agrees, and because of the importance of his
work I was anxious to speak to him: Thrander had been working plate armor
in Varrock for as long as there has been a name for it (the town, not the
armor).
I’d chatted
with Thrander before- we were both concerned with the stingy state of
affairs regarding new citizens and the King’s reluctance to give them any
armor above the offensively paltry wooden shield and bronze blade that
travelers to this land were expected to make their way in life with. But
until I my position on the ‘Daily I never asked him about his work.
So reluctant
was he to leave his work that I spoke to him on the job, a modest smithy
with a climb-up studio apartment above. Located in a quiet spot behind the
east Varrock bank, the double doors of his shop look out on the very
streets avenues of economy in one direction, and into the seedy end of
Varrock's back alleys on the other.
“How long
have you been providing your services?”
“Oh, quite a
while- as long as I can remember.”
“And before
that?”
“I can't
recall.”
“I get the
impression though that many still don't know about you and your work.”
“It's true,
some are surprised to hear of me. Some still suffer from ill-fitting armor
in silence, needlessly.”
“Could it be
the location?”
“I don't
think so, this area is actually on the rise-- there's a new rune shop next
door, and I hear Ernie [owner of the Blue Moon Inn] is thinking of
expanding.”
“You provide
your service free.”
“Indeed.”
“That's quite
unusual, in this day and age.”
“Perhaps."
“But you do
have other interests, don’t you?”
“Interests?
Well, I fletch a little..”
“I mean other
economic interests.”
“Oh, that-
yes. I don’t mind people knowing! It was Bob's idea actually- he runs an
axe shop in Lummy. The tough part was getting Peska to agree.”
“Why was
that?”
“Well, errm,
Peska does fine work, particularly with the smaller helmets- but he works
on his own, and to his own standards.”
“Sort of a
lone wolf?”
“Or goblin.
As I say, he does fine work, and we're on good terms, but.. I wanted to do
more refined smithing. The problem was that Peska held an armor contract
with the Council… and there are only so many contracts the Council allows
in the manufacturing of weapons and armor for civilians.”
“So you found
another source of revenue?”
“Exactly- you
see, when I first came to the kingdom, all the full helmets had blue
feathers. And they really looked terrible! Peska doesn't deal with the
feather part anyway, the Champs Guild is in charge of attaching those. But
I provide the red feathers, and get a percentage.”
“What sort of
a percentage?”
“A fractional
one. Not much really, but..”
“Still, there
are an incredible amount of full helmets around!”
“Yes,
indeed!” Thrander smiled.
“Is this a
net or gross percent?”
“Net.”
“Sweet!”
“Yuppers.”
“It doesn't
bother you that- indirectly- your main customers are probably pkers?”
“What people
do with their helmets is no business of mine! I don't deal in weapons, as
you know.”
“That's
true.”
“As Horvick
always says:
‘Armor
doesn't kill people, weapons kill people.’”
We were
interrupted- fortuitously as it turned out- by a customer; giving Thrander
a chance to show his stuff. A woman from Al Kharid way had been looking
for the rune shop and- serendipitously as it turned out- was wearing a
man's plate adamantine top. She waited upstairs modestly while Horvick
pounded and shaped proficiently. I relate the incident verbosely.
“Woot!” she beamed
afterwards.
Thrander quietly
smiled.
“How much?”
“No charge,” I
explained, “Thrander provides his services free.”
“Kewl,” she
offered, and was on her way.
I asked of Thrander-
“You mentioned the
restrictions on armor trade imposed by the Council. What would you change
about this? What do you think is the King’s role in this problem?”
“Hum! The King,” he
repeated “The King could- and should, I believe- take a more active role
in the care of his new subjects. There is an armor surplus right now, and
while the council determines who and how many can sell the armor, it is
the King’s responsibility to welcome new subjects with adequate training
and tools to survive.”
“We’ve talked about this
before- all travelers receive is a wooden shield and a bronze sword, a
tinderbox, pick, and axe.”
“Not even a medium
helmet! You might as well give them fish-food and rat poison to defend
themselves with. And yet we live in the most prosperous age in all the
kingdoms’ history! I mean nothing against Peska when I say that it’s
positively barbaric.”
“There is a rumor that
the King will soon be giving a small stipend to new visitors, in
addition.”
“That’s a good idea! A
very fine notion. I know you agree with me, Frank, and you do your part-
if others only gave a small amount of the armor they no longer want, I
truly believe that no one in the kingdom need go without. I just wish that
the King would change his position on this issue.”
“It’s been a pleasure
talking with you, Thrander.”
“Thanks, I enjoyed it.”
Addendum:
Thrander: Man of Grace
It was this boom economy
Thrander mentioned that helped push the sweeping new changes to the
Kingdom we all know of now. In addition to the complete refurbishment of
the Varrock palace, and most of that surrounding town, that brought the
additional stipend to all new travelers of a whopping twenty-five gold
pieces. Ironically Thrander was no there to see it. Whether his words
critical of the king were the cause, or a whim of the Council was
responsible, Thrander was one of the few not granted the right to continue
his business, even as a free service!
Those who travel to new Varrock
today, and tomorrow, may never know of this resourceful and selfless
craftsman, and all he has done for the kingdom. We whose memories are
longer should not forget him! And it is a small thing to visit him-- you
will still find him at his post in his old shop: a more welcoming and
courteous fellow you may not find in the kingdom, despite his ill fortune,
and the knowledge that he may never see the new shop sitting in wait for
him, anvils and all, in a prosperous kingdom with no time for this humble
man of skill, dignity, and caring, the very embodiment of the finest
graces.
-Redrum Frank, Yanille
The author, hat in hand dramatically, viewing Thrander's vacant shop
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