Warhammer: I, Bartor Farmer

Chapter 77 Bayonet, Horn, Commander

When the setting sun on the second day melted the cold season, the morning under the sun was filled with a hint of spring, but it was still far from the real spring.

The mules and horses ate the hay, and their food was everywhere in Bretonnia in winter.

Roel got up early today. This was not the first time he got up early. During the trip, he had become accustomed to the early morning.

Regardless of whether the lord agreed to his request of the lion's mouth, he had already planned this. He needed a horn, forged by a blacksmith, loud enough to be heard by anyone in the chaos of war.

Also missing a bayonet, to mount on his own rifle, to retire the poor Pitchfork entirely.

The rustling of his gear woke Elena, who had been a ranger for many years, and she tightened her emerald green dress of leaves to suppress the sound. "Short-lived ghost, did you work?"

At this moment, Roel is taking the trouble to count his gold coins. From the journey so far, the horses and the road consumption, as well as the money given to his parents, a total of 23 gold crowns may disappear. He is heartbroken, but he also knows that he cannot be stingy.

When he raised his head and told Elena that he still needed to buy equipment, Elena asked puzzled. "Horn? What use is that thing? We all follow the lead of the Huntsman when we kill two-legged prey."

"Ahem, you are sleeping with the two-legged prey you mentioned." Roel didn't understand the paranoia of this group of long-lived creatures, they would always sink into the past unintentionally.

Such a rebuttal made Elena blushed, and scolded a little bit coquettishly. "You have to get me some pastry, short-lived ghost, or you have to watch your back."

Roel raised his hand in surrender. "Yes, yes, my lady, but please don't wake the man in the van, we have business to do."

After appeasing the damned elf, he felt that if the elves were more honest, the world of Warhammer would be a lot better.

He would rather travel with the dwarves!
He has no interest in that aspect. Although the girl is good-looking, the elf girl's mouth makes him not interested.

The caravan parked not far away, only a few hundred meters away from the city gate of Brionne. When Roel walked into the city, he saw that various vegetables were being prepared in the city today. Today should be the first day after the king's Sabbath. a rally.

Farmers came to the city with their crops, city people took money to find food, and women could be heard bustling bargaining in the early morning, but such a situation was guarded by a large number of guards.

In this beautiful city, street vendors are extra concerned about whether their vegetable leaves will pollute the land. If a rotten tomato is accidentally dropped on the beautiful marble brick roads, they will be insulted by the consul.

Roel also didn't take a bath for a while, and the first thing he did when he entered the city was to be ordered by the guards to go to the bathhouse...

Because today there will be dukes watching the streets, they want to be both prosperous and clean.

And the communal bathhouses in Bretonnia are simply awful, you can imagine little camps of white canvas next to the city moat with lots of charcoal next to it.

Where did the white smoke come from, and there were many female workers washing clothes by the river.

Feel beautiful?But it's winter now!

When the mud ditch where the wind, food and camp were sleeping dispersed in the wooden barrel, Roel was naked and delirious from the cold. There was no Yuba in this era, and there would be no hot water when the water was cold, and the price of charcoal was very expensive. Many people It can only be washed pure and cold, and the surrounding is only a cloth tent.

And in such an environment, the adventurers who were forced to take a bath actually quickly lined up here.

The Brionne people's insistence on cleanliness and beauty made Roel feel that this place is simply a paradise for sex abuse, but it seems that there are few sex abuse believers here.

After he took a shower, he could use the bath water to rinse his armor. Although he wasn't attacked much, it was stained with mud and blood.

When all the water in a basin was polluted, Roel felt refreshed. Of course, when he got out of the basin, he would almost be frozen into a coma.

And such an experience actually requires a full 10 pence, which is equivalent to 3 to 4 days of minimum consumption in Bretonnia.

One can imagine the luxury of taking a bath.

After finally entering the city, Roel began to look for a blacksmith's shop, but besides the tavern, there were large and small karaoke halls and private houses. Although the entire city of Brionne was not big, it was not small either.

It took Roel almost an hour to find a blacksmith's shop, which was built in the gap of the building, probably because the blacksmith's shop was not beautiful, only the iron filings and coke on the ground were covered with a thick layer .

The old blacksmith here is always pulling his face, wearing a white apron, and constantly smashing his arms. A young apprentice runs around him, fetching oil and handing iron.

Even Roel was entertained by the freckled kid.

"My lord, what do you want?"

Probably because he saw the chain armor in Roel's clothes, he probably thought he had met a nobleman, but the old blacksmith obviously had more insight.

he cursed. "You kid is wrong again! This is a farmer, or an adventurer, by no means noble, just look at that nobleman who can carry a pitchfork!"

He didn't care about Roel's feelings, because farmers, that's what they were.

He thinks that the guy in front of him probably doesn't have much money, and what he beats is either a kitchen knife or a pitchfork. You know, a noble long sword is worth four statutes and five pitchforks!

And Roel is very used to it, every time he comes to the city, it will be like this. In places like taverns that receive a lot of people, the boss still keeps some, so it is different in places that only serve nobles and city residents.

He is also welcome. "A pair of horns, big and bright enough, and... a bayonet that can be attached to a pole."

Playfully, the old blacksmith stopped hammering, and wiped his sweat with something like a rag. "What are you talking about, bayonet?"

"Do you know how much that thing costs? Counting the special leather case, it costs about five fiat!"

Roel nodded. "Almost, by the way, you have to take my things first, and I will pick them up this afternoon, after dinner."

Because the lord may call him at any time, when the attack starts, he is not sure if he will have time to return to the city, Roel can only do it as soon as possible, even if it costs more money.

The old blacksmith grinned. "What are you talking about? I'm going to give..."

Roel took out a gold coin with King Lawn's head engraved on it. It was produced in Cologne, and it was basically the kind with the highest gold content.

The old blacksmith had only uttered half of his words before he had to swallow them down. "My lord, you can pick it up at noon..."

Roel rubbed his shoulders. "It's okay, remember to make it stronger, and the steel is not bad."

(End of this chapter)