A Disagreement About Gold and Copper

[Prince of Thieves]

"Sir, these are copper coins, not gold coins." The blacksmith spoke with a raised brow to his customer at the depot near the alchemy lab, a stranger covered from head to toe in plate armour and a red cloak. His gloved fist held firmly onto a gilded longsword, its masterfully crafted blade glistening in the evening sun.

"What? 'Tis nonsense! 'Twas pure gold, even with a tip," exclaimed the supposed knight as he hesitantly turned around, his muffled voice echoing through the pot helmet covering his face.
"Ask the money changer if thou doubt these coins' purity," he added calmly.

"Don't fool me, it will not end well," warned the blacksmith, throwing a purse at the armoured stranger.

"Aah! Do not throw things at me!" The purse hit the knight's chestplate, spilling jingling copper coins over the cobbled street in front of Grator Bottleneck's stall, who watched the disagreement between the two men with confusion and curiosity. It wasn't the first spat between a merchant and a customer that Grator witnessed, nor would it probably be the last, and he knew well to not get involved if it wasn't his business.

The blacksmith glared sternly at the confounded knight and stepped closer.
"Give me back the sword!"

The knight answered the demand with some unintelligible stuttering before swiftly turning on his heels and making a run for it, his ill-fitting armour clattering as he ran down the road with the blacksmith hot on his heels.
Too late did Boumaug and Bre realize what the ruckus was about as the knight dashed through the town gate, panting exhaustedly under the weight of his armour, his red cloak fluttering behind him as he disappeared in the woods across the Copperbridge.

"Run as far as you can!" The blacksmith yelled to the other side of the bridge, presumably shaking his fist at the sky in anger, as he gave up the chase and turned back.

A gleeful giggle echoed from a cave near the river, heard by no one but the chickens, as the knight removed his helmet to catch a breath and wipe the sweat off his face, while marvelling at his gilded prize.