The Need for a Different Kind of Skill [Social/Farmsalot]

Pax half expected the entire inn to just remain silent, staring back at him as if he were some lunatic. He would've been fine with that if he weren't so distraught. He watched, however, as someone responded and stood up from their chair. With a frown, Pax looked at the table. They had only just begun to eat. Dread struck his core. He had interrupted someone in the middle of their meal. An unforgivable crime.

To top it off, he was called sir. This brought Pax back from his fantasy of killing people over food. He nodded and followed this new acquaintance back to his table, "You should be a little crueler to me. Would I mind joining you? As if I didn't just careen into a crowd of people like a court fool."

Pax shook his head. He wasn't trying to sound cruel or anything. He actually extremely appreciated not getting yelled at immediately. It was a nice change of pace from what his past two days and nights had been. Constant questing. Constant fighting. But worst of all, dealing with his sister keeping up with him. On the outside, he probably looked like he had been in constant combat for a year, as bad a shape as he was in. He had a few dents in his armor, and there was more than enough dirt on his face to warrant a bath. With a sigh, he reluctantly agreed to join the man at his table. He careful pulled out the seat and sat down in it as gently as he could. Sure, the NPC furniture couldn't break, but that was no reason to sit like an animal.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steadying himself. He opened his eyes slowly and looked at the man from across the table, and then he bowed his head, doing his best to be respectful, "My name is Paxilon and I'm in need of your services. But, I can wait until you've finished your meal before we discuss anything further. I would be more than upset to be interrupted in the middle of a meal."

Pax nodded as he watched the man eat. With a gulp, he realised this was the first time he'd actually talked to a played crafter. He felt his forehead get clammy for a moment. He couldn't remember the last time he'd dealt with someone who actually used the crafting skills in a game. He had no foundation for what these kind of players were like. One of the only things he was good at when it came to people skills was that he could read people. He had no starting point to work with here, though. He shook these thoughts out of his head, however. He was here for a specific purpose.

"If you insist," Pax took in a deep breath, and then he spoke, keeping his voice as level as he could, "Listen. If you work with metals, you can definitely help me. I'm not looking for some fancy DEX build. I have to be able to take a hit. I work best when I'm in the enemy's face, you know? I need to be a wall. Something my allies can hide behind. Add any other sentimental phrases you want to that."

Pax felt his stomach rumble slightly as he watched the man eat. He had eaten recently, but he was always on the move. Always burning calories. Did this game have a system for caloric intake? This was something he definitely need to get his sister to calculate. He focused his attention back to the man, "I've been doing quests and farming almost non-stop for the last couple of days. If you need any material or any col, I can almost certainly deliver. I just need to be able to hold my own on the field. To be able to do that, any material price is insignificant."

Pax nodded, sure of himself on this matter. And then the Farmsalot told him his name. Pax almost started laughing, but settled for a quick smile instead. He couldn't afford to offend someone he desperately needed help from. Even he knew that. He looked Farmsalot in the eyes with a bit of a vicious grin, "Me? I like to do a little bit more than I'm supposed to. Almost literally all the time."

He gestured to the few dents in his overly simple plate armor, "This thing is bound to fall apart soon, and I need something that can handle being used constantly. I don't much care what it looks like. I just need it to work."

Pax released the breath that he had been holding in relief that racked his entire body. He lowered his face on to the table and just moaned out the words that were flooding his very being, "Oh, thank god."

This entire time he had been so worried. He got along with almost no one in this game. He had been so bent on thinking that people would tell him no on principle that this relief was enough to make him properly hungry again. He sat up straight again and shook his head, "Sorry. Yeah, that I've been working hard is an understatement. I can definitely get you the materials. You'll need iron . . . what was it, again? Iron . . . bars?"

He sighed and rubbed his temples. Crafting was one thing he never did in games like this. It was usually a waste of time. He could definitely see the benefits of it now, though, "Alright. I'll get you what you need. All in this together? I wish everyone saw it like that. Some people seem to forget about the whole dying thing, though. But, barring all strange pieces of this conversation, I accept your proposition, with the addendum that I'll send people your way if your armor doesn't get me killed."

Pax shook Farm's hand firmly, with a big, relieved grin on his face. A thought occurred to him and he flicked his menu open, scrolling through the options, "Speaking of helping people in need, if you ever find yourself in trouble . . ."

He sent the friend request, watching the notification get sent to pop up in front of Farm, "I'm almost always available. Poor sleeping schedule and all that."