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Ragnar was on a mission. Rare were the times when he showed himself in Homewood, but he'd met a traveler recently who had spoken of a little armory run by a clever doe with a knack for the making the stuff, and he'd felt intrigued.

He and his friends had made do all their lives without armor, relying on skill and a healthy dose of luck to escape lethal harm while fighting out in the Barrens. But times were changing. Predators were getting larger, more difficult to take down, and if he had to be honest, the idea of being protected against attacks was growing more and more appealing by the day.

The buck found the armory with little trouble, recognizing the shack as one of countless abominations left behind by the Others. It stood out against the lush trees of Homewood, sorely difficult to miss.

He stepped into the doorway right as Dyna was mid-tantrum. He heard the thunk of hoof against metal, and the bucket's contents sloshed across the ground with a clatter, just as Ragnar put his foot down, smack into the middle of the brand new puddle. The buck paused, eyes the only part of him moving as they went first to the water he now stood in, and then back to the buckskin doe lying in a heap in the center of the shop.

"Perhaps I've come at a bad time," he said, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

He could tell he'd embarrassed her by catching her at this particular moment, and he suspected that the last thing she wanted to do was get up and deal with him. Still, she managed it and he had to appreciate the invisible strength it must have taken to paste that smile on her face. The buck answered with his own little smile, more of a smirk, really. His eyes went to the puddle under his hoof, and he shook his head. "This, don't worry about it," he said, drawing on Spillway to quickly draw the water off the ground and evaporate it into the air.

Then he turned to face her, studying the beetle helm she wore with almost unsettling concentration, his eyes tracing the arc and angle of the nose horn and taking in her handiwork with quiet fascination. He seemed to be simultaneously taking in and memorizing all the details on the helm, filing it away for future reference. Whatever he might have been looking for, he evidently found, and after a moment or two of tense silence, he nodded.

Then finally, he said, "Dyna, my name is Ragnar. A wanderer told me of your armory. I would like to commission some armor from you, for myself and two of my warriors."

She was so animated. It wasn't what Ragnar would have expected out of an armorer, but her excitement conveyed a passion that he hoped would fuel her work. Armor made with heart was armor that he would trust.

He smiled and inclined his head in response to her little wiggle. "It seems you impressed this traveler with your work, enough for her to feel the need to relay it to others," he said. Most definitely success, if his judgment mattered. The buck's gaze swept past Dyna and around the rest of her shop, taking in the piles of materials she'd stored, nodding in thought as he studied it.

"We travel the land on raids," he began as he finished his sweep of the store. "On our travels, we encounter enemies, mostly dire rats and catbeasts. But with new lands opening for exploration, we're concerned that we may encounter larger predators." Indeed, news of these newly resurrected beasts had traveled quickly out of Homewood, and the stories didn't seem promising.

"We would like to be prepared, in the event that we ever run into these beasts. Heavier armor, I think. Chest plate and leg guards. And our lady may want a helm as well? She likes to stand out, I suppose," he concluded, his smile fading back to a smirk. Yes, Freydis had a flair for drama in the best ways.

"We do go looking for them from time to time," Ragnar said with a cryptic smile, nodding in the affirmative. Indeed, they went looking for them as a way of life, and loud were the complaints from his warriors when they failed to find a rat nest or two to attack when they went raiding. "We have a rather long history with rats and catbeasts."

He listened with quiet intent as Dyna launched into her explanation of materials and types, and only moved when she went to pull a slab of metal out of her impressive tower of resources. The thing thunked to the floor, and Ragnar's eyes narrowed perceptibly as he studied it.

This thing felt cursed. It probably was cursed. He wondered how it would reflect upon them if they were to wear it as armor, protecting themselves with materials left behind by the very creatures that had destroyed Vykeli. What would the Grandfather think?

He shifted slightly at the thought. But... if they were here to rid the land of the Others' invasive rats, then... perhaps protecting themselves with Other-made metal was fitting. The cogs were churning almost notably in his head as he considered the slab of metal before him.

"I'd like to minimize the metal only to the most vulnerable spots," he said, finally making up his mind. "Just the front section most likely to take damage, if possible. And have it all strapped on with leather. The vital bits, as you say."

He seemed to have settled some of his own worries about offending the Grandfather, and turned to Dyna with a small that was a little more warm, and a little less cryptic. "Your excitement is a sign of great passion. I appreciate it. Don't apologize."

"With the handiwork I've already seen from your work, it should be impossible not to be proud of it," Ragnar said, watching with focused curiosity as she slapped a piece of bark against him and began to take measurements. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but his expression conveyed a sense of pleasant surprise as Dyna went about her work. "I will send them. For this, I think they could be convinced to come to Homewood for a bit."

He stood stock still as she marked the bark, just his eyes following her as she moved about, fascinated by it all. He was studying, taking it all in. Ragnar had no intention of learning to do any of this by himself, but there was great value in understanding the hallmarks of a good armorer, and Dyna was setting a bar to which he could compare all others. A a high bar she seemed to be setting, too.

"You care," he said, and the appreciation he had for that was evident in his simple words. "How can I pay you for these pieces? We have treasure we could part with, or perhaps we can bring you some other resources from our future raids."

"It'll be a relief to go into battle with armor we can trust, then," Ragnar said, knowing that he and his warriors would all feel proud to wear it. Using the Others' own materials to repel their invasive pests seemed to have its own satisfying irony, now that he thought about it.

"This trade seems very fair to me," he agreed rather readily. It was difficult to put a price on solid handiwork, and it would take little extra effort haul back materials on their travels. "We've come across some good material in the past. And sometimes, the rats hoard things you'd never think of."

Perfect.

When she was finished with her measurements, he gave her a polite dip of his head. "Expect my warriors in a day or two," he said. "One is quite dramatic and the other can be... blunt. Don't worry about them. They're... harmless." It was blatantly not true. But they would be harmless when it came to Dyna and her shop. That much could be guaranteed.