"Augmentation?" The young warlock asked. "You're going to have to be more specific than that."
The customer looked to the warlock with a hint of annoyance.
"Ah need a potion of aug-men-ta-tion," He replied flatly.
"Yes I know that much, what kind do you need?" The warlock countered.
"Aug-men-ta-tion," The customer repeated again.
"That's not what I mean. What do you want to augment?" He tried once again.
"You," he said, "to give me what I want. Just give me an aug-men-ta-tion potion!?" The customer was distressed by no fault other than his own. Yet the warlock remained calm glancing at his schedule. He still had plenty of time before his next appointment and so he was in no rush to serve this rather pesky one.
"I cannot make you a potion of augmentation, unless you tell me what you want to make better. The recipe depends on the objective," The warlock stated flatly.
"Why didn't you say before?!" The still annoyed customer shouted.
"Perhaps because I expected any knuckle head could have figured it out by now. Or- or get this, maybe I am the only warlock who lives anywhere near here and you literally have no where else to go to get the same service," the warlock suggested still paying little attention to the further enraged man.
"What does that matter? I am your customer, you should respect!" He yelled into the warlock's face.
At this point the warlock made eye contact for the first time in several moments. He made a gentle motion with his hand and forced a chair from the back of the room forward sweeping the customer off of his feet and onto his the seat.
"Some people give respect to everyone, I only respect those that deserve it. No before you get into a fit about whether you deserve it or not remember I am looking to make money, you have a problem that only I can help with, and I don't need to respect someone to do business with them. Now can you PLEASE tell me what kind of potion that you need?" The warlock boomed.
The customer looked him directly in the eye " Ah need Aug-men-ta-tion."
The warlock silently walked into the back room and shuffled back holding a vial.
"Your potion sir. A potion of augmented intelligence," He said, "that will be 10 gold."
The man looked at the coins in his hand. Several coppers and a single silver. No where near even a single gold. Yet he began to count.
"You know what? It's on the house, you need it."
The man took the flask gratefully. "Thank you very much sir. It was a pleasure doing business," he said, then strolled out of the tent potion still in hand. The warlock smiled for only a moment. Perhaps he should make himself a second brew.
The customer looked to the warlock with a hint of annoyance.
"Ah need a potion of aug-men-ta-tion," He replied flatly.
"Yes I know that much, what kind do you need?" The warlock countered.
"Aug-men-ta-tion," The customer repeated again.
"That's not what I mean. What do you want to augment?" He tried once again.
"You," he said, "to give me what I want. Just give me an aug-men-ta-tion potion!?" The customer was distressed by no fault other than his own. Yet the warlock remained calm glancing at his schedule. He still had plenty of time before his next appointment and so he was in no rush to serve this rather pesky one.
"I cannot make you a potion of augmentation, unless you tell me what you want to make better. The recipe depends on the objective," The warlock stated flatly.
"Why didn't you say before?!" The still annoyed customer shouted.
"Perhaps because I expected any knuckle head could have figured it out by now. Or- or get this, maybe I am the only warlock who lives anywhere near here and you literally have no where else to go to get the same service," the warlock suggested still paying little attention to the further enraged man.
"What does that matter? I am your customer, you should respect!" He yelled into the warlock's face.
At this point the warlock made eye contact for the first time in several moments. He made a gentle motion with his hand and forced a chair from the back of the room forward sweeping the customer off of his feet and onto his the seat.
"Some people give respect to everyone, I only respect those that deserve it. No before you get into a fit about whether you deserve it or not remember I am looking to make money, you have a problem that only I can help with, and I don't need to respect someone to do business with them. Now can you PLEASE tell me what kind of potion that you need?" The warlock boomed.
The customer looked him directly in the eye " Ah need Aug-men-ta-tion."
The warlock silently walked into the back room and shuffled back holding a vial.
"Your potion sir. A potion of augmented intelligence," He said, "that will be 10 gold."
The man looked at the coins in his hand. Several coppers and a single silver. No where near even a single gold. Yet he began to count.
"You know what? It's on the house, you need it."
The man took the flask gratefully. "Thank you very much sir. It was a pleasure doing business," he said, then strolled out of the tent potion still in hand. The warlock smiled for only a moment. Perhaps he should make himself a second brew.