Krikas 

Ahhh, civilisation Krikas thinks to himself. All this travelling with only a short-lived, albeit deadly, battle had started to wear thin. He was used to a livelier journey or at least one with a travelling troupe and nights spent with mead and merriment, shows of strength and sometimes stupidity. The prospect of an actual bed and proper food set his mood quite high. Following behind Felmar he overhears the offer from the smith. "Fine wares our friend carries. What exactly might you need? Just iron? I'm sure he can accommodate. And by the way, he's not our golem. He is Rusty, our metal companion." Krikas has obviously been in a position such as this before, his silver tongue making quick work of the situation. 

Aelinn

Aelinn pulled down her mask and tossed back her hood. From her smuggling days she'd learnt that dwarfs like to see who is speaking to them. She smiled and asked Have any of the Harpers come this way honored smith?

The Dwarfs face blanches, he spits on the ground at the question. "What use is a Harper, where ever they appear trouble is sure to follow. I have not seen a Harper but they do not just announce their presence. I hope not my fair lady" He finishes with a smile realizing his attitude may not be shared with everyone.

He looks to Krikas, "Aye, a companion ok, I call my Hammer the mountain and consider it a companion so I guess we all have our quirks. Name a price, I will take any ores you have"

[[ Have good trips, Ssymith and DirtyDog. ]]

[[
Remembering for myself, 8 shortswords, 6 shortbows, 4 daggers, 1 longbow, 2 alchemist fire
Briar took a shortbow
Aelinn took 3 daggers
Krikas took the alchemist fires

I believe Aelinn has longbow proficiency as a Wood Elf, right? So can assume that's being kept?

That would leave 8 shortswords (10gp each) 1 dagger (2gp) and 5 shortbows (25gp each).
8*10 + 2 + 5*25 = 80 + 2 + 125 = 82 in metal + 125 in wooden weaponry = 207 total
Half-price, 41 nobles in metal and 62.5 nobles in wooden weaponry, 103.5 nobles total 
]]

"It's not just metal we have. We also have some fine shortbows in our possession, already made and in good condition." He gestures towards any remaining signs of wounds on the party, "We can attest to that from experience." Looking to Krikas he winks and turns back to the smith, "For the whole lot, why not 130 nobles and I'd estimate you'll se at least a month's profit off that." 

[[
Estimating at the 2gp per day for a skilled laborer for the month's guess.
And trying to help Krikas on any persuasion rolls. Figure go high (~25% more than standard resale), smith will counter lower, and then Krikas can come with another price?
]]

He adds, "I'd also be in the market for a quiver with arrows if you've got any. 2 nobles for the package."

[[ IIRC that's standard price for quiver + 20 arrows ]]

OOC Sell the longbow I'm RPGing Aelinn whilst she can use a longbow it gets in the way of acrobatics she's keeping her elven bow at the moment.

The Dwarf listens to Briar and scoffs at the offer. "You have great spirit little one, a merchant in another life perhaps. Somethin yer forgettin is you need customers to buy the goods if you want to make a profit. We aint seein a lot a folk lookin fer weapons these days. Now you could mayhaps sell them in town but all I'm interested in is the ore, the metal of the weapons and the items in your companions buckets over there. I have a commission to build two gates for Halia and I am a little short on iron." He ponders the offer, "I can give you 25 Nobles for the lot!"

At the request for a quiver and arrows he smiles with a chuckle, glancing back at his forge, "Ha well I aint no leather worker and I don't do no fletching lad. Try Barthens, he might have a few in stock"

Rusty leans down closer to Briar's ear, but despite him lowering the volume of his monotonous voice, it's likely the dwarf can still hear him. "I ha-ha-ha-have no problem with 25 nobles if tha-tha-tha-that will help the party."

Krikas 

Although he picks up on Briar's plan, it's clear to Krikas that the smith is not the place to sell such an assortment of wares. "Shame indeed" he feigns disappointment, "There's some interesting trinkets within our friends buckets but alas , no ore. We shall try in town. Speaking of, where would we find a decent meal?" He tries to end the conversation on a pleasant note knowing a dwarves penchant for good food.

He brushes past Rusty and offers a word. "Not to this vendor, well seek a better price elsewhere " he says softly.

Aelinn

Maybe this Barthens will trade for the weapons. We can get Briar some arrows there as well. Mask willing, the inn is a good one.

"Sounds good to me," says Briar. He turns to the dwarven smith, "Though perhaps later I may be asking your services if you're able to make armor. I certainly don't have enough coin for such a request at the moment, but it was good to meet you." He's ready to head off with the rest to Phandalin proper.

" 'Preciate yer advice and we'll definitely look into yer suggestions.  If we come across anythin' ye can use, ye'll be our first stop.  Ye have a nice set up here, and we wish ye good fortune." Unless anyone else has any further business, Felmar is ready to proceed into town.

Rusty follows the others. "Good to-to-to-to meet you," he repeats. "Good for-for-for-fortune."

The Dwarf laughs at Krikas's statement of not having any ore. "I am always amazed the dandelion eaters ever survived, the iron is an ore" He guffaws a good hearty laugh. "Well good luck to ya all the same, If ya be headin into yonder mountains perhaps check on Clan Oresong and see whats goin on with the mine."

Phandalin lies just down the hill from the smithy. A small village clustered atop several small hills, thick forest clinging to its edges on the Eastern side. Above the woods a tor overlooks the town. A rebuilt manse, the cedar shingles and fresh wood siding showing little age, gazes out to the town and surrounding lands. Less than a couple dozen small snow capped cottages line a few twisting streets. Drifts pile in the corners and along walls. The roads are a mix of snow, mud and ice, the people moving slowly, cautiously to their destinations.

 Two other buildings dominate the village, a large two and half story structure dominates the village square, well lit inside and out. The third oddity amongst the simple wood and stone hovels is a squat building made of hard mortared stone, reclaimed from the fields and ruins of an older settlement. It seems to brood next to its neighbors.

As you approach several townsfolk look up as you pass, most nod, few smile, none move to greet or intercept you. A pair of children run giggling past, sticks in their hands and a wooden hoop rolling by.

Whirr-clunk-jingle, whirr-clunk-jingle. Rusty plods along the street, paying much more attention to the people than to the street itself or the structures. His head swivels at the sound of the approaching children, and his great, furnace-like head follows them as they pass. He finds living creatures interesting. He doesn't understand their emotions. He can't relate to their ability to change shape. He can relate to how their minds grow in knowledge and how their opinions can be molded. He has had his mind changed many times. He wonders if it had been possible to give him emotions, and yet his creator chose to deprive him of them. This is simply a question; he holds no animosity or resentment. He is far from possessing the knowledge it took his creator to craft him. All he can do is ... live? ... the best he can. "Our des-des-des-destination?" he asks his traveling companions.

Aelinn

Let's find the inn, there we can find out where Harbin is, before checking out Barthens. A room for the night with good food and a tankard of mulled cider would be ideal. Not to mention a bath. Krikas will you barter room and board for us, use the coin from the brigands. Maybe they'll give us a discount if you perform for them.

Perception 22 Her eyes scanned the locals and buildings as they go further along the main street, looking for hanging signs for the inn and shop.

"An inn sounds nice." says Briar, concurring with Aelinn. "Always a good place to get word of the goings ons." He chuckles as the kids with their hoop run by. "Ah, youth." he says with a smile.

“An inn sounds good. Me beard has gotten dry again, I’m I’m needin’ te wet it!” Felmar says with a wink.

The sun was dipping low on the horizon as you wandered along the dirt street, emerging upon the village square. A small space, enough for several wagons and villagers no more, was nearly empty of activity. Several roads branch from here twisting around the thatch roofed cottages, cold dead gardens and the few businesses in town. A large two and half story building stands proud looking down upon the square. Torches are lit on the front porch and balcony above. A large fire emanates its warmth even into the street. No sign depicts its intent but an Inn is recognizable anywhere. The sound of laughter echoes from within. A small barn sits off to the side, a young lad caring for a pair of horses.

Opposite the Inn a rough shod dry stacked stone shrine sits solemnly, an older woman, skin wrinkled from care. She turns in your direction and smiles, the first true warmth you have felt since arriving.  Wiping down her simple brown garb to create a respectable appearance. "May the lady grant you good fortune". She nods at you and returns to sweeping the collected snow from within the shrine.

Across from the Shrine a large barn sits, a torch beckoning any to enter. The symbol of a rampant lion upon a shield informs you of its purpose. Aelinn realizes it is a member  of a merchant Coster, the Lionshields. They may take the weapons you carry.

The warmth is a stark contrast from the wet chill of the afternoon. The fire is roaring in a large hearth, several tables scattered about the great room. Half the village appears to be here, most of the tables taken with a few or more citizens at each, nursing the warm tankards in their hands. A pair of salty men and an older woman, their plain green clothing encrusted with salt are speaking loudly in one corner. It seems they are trying to come to terms with an event that has left them shaken. "The light drew them in, I swear, didn't you see it Sheryl." The woman replies, "The captain must have been drunk, no ship just turns and dashes itself against the rocks. Either that or it was the craft fer sure"

A table in the corner is occupied by a lone woman, her cowl pulled forward even in the heat of the great room. She appears in deep thought, only the occasional glance about the room reveals her attention is any where but internal.

A trio of Dwarves look up when you enter, their beards dragging their chins down, hushed and quiet whispers amongst themselves. The Inn keeper, a man in his late 60's if not a day swipes the grime from the bar, an errant comment directed at the young woman sitting talking with him. He looks up as the door closes behind you. "Ahay and greetings. New in town if not mistaken. Got only the common room available. Six beds it is, no other guests. I can give ya the key if you wantin?"

Briar smiles back to the woman at the shrine. He approaches and asks, "Want any help clearing out the snow?" He adds, "Thank you for your lady's blessings. If I may ask, who do serve? I myself am dedicated in service of Torm."

“Aye, that’ll do friend!” As Felmar goes to accept the key, he asks the innkeeper, “We’re lookin’ fer a feller by the name o’ Harbin, know where we can find’em?”