It had only been an hour since Dietrich had departed from his home and smithy in favor of the town. He'd had a particularly rough experience working his shop that day and he figured that a brief reprieve from his work would do to quell the rage that had begun to build within the man. He was afraid of what could happen were he to become too enraged. Not necessarily for his own sake, though; he knew that he was capable of turning into a beast who had more than enough potential to slaughter whoever crossed his path. No, he could not subject himself nor the people of this town to that.
Earlier that day, while working the forge, he accidentally hit himself with the hammer he used to temper steel. A string of curses foul enough to make a nun faint escaped from his lips due to the pain, but this would not be the cause of his anger. The pain was simply a consequence of the job. Instead, his anger would stem from a particularly impertinent patron whose pickaxe had broken from overuse, but of course the fool couldn't realize that. The man blamed Dietrich for his "shoddy workmanship" and when he calmly suggested that the patron should probably handle their tools with a bit more care, the man threw a tantrum. Dietrich swiftly removed the man from his shop, bit not without a few of his works being sent clattering onto the floor.
The patron had nearly caused Dietrich to go into a frenzy of his own. Upon seeing the things he had worked so hard to create lying on the floor, he became immediately incensed and could feel himself beginning to turn. Fortunately though he was able to calm himself down and headed into the town for some fresh mountain air. Silently, though, he hoped that misfortune would come for the man who nearly wrecked his storefront.
The anger he felt an hour ago came as an unusual emotion to Dietrich. He and many others generally regard him as a kind and benevolent soul. Some even describe him as charismatic and charming despite being somewhat of a loner as far as intimacy and love goes.
Before leaving, he retrieved his coin purse from the other half of his smithy which functioned as his home. It was relatively weighty, which he was certainly thankful for. The merchants that passed through the town every season tended to pay generously for the things he made and he was grateful for that. Because of their generous payments, being able to afford the things he needed never came as an issue even in the harsh winters of the mountains.
Dietrich ventured out from his shop and into the town and after several moments of walking he came upon a produce selling fruit. The apples on display were large, round, and a deep shade of crimson. He could almost taste them and he hadn't even bit into one. With no hesitation, he bought a basket of the fruits. A few moments later he was offering two apples to an old woman and who appeared to be her young grandson, both of whom appeared excited and grateful for his gift. The woman tried to offer him a handful of silver coins, but he turned her down with a swift but genuine "no thank you."
He waltzed through the people milling about in the streets of the town, easily making his way to the central plaza. Vendors manned the many stalls lining the square, all of which sported varying hues in both the wares as well as the tents. People moved from stall to stall, and many of them were quick to drop a a few silvers into the hands of a seller before taking the goods they had paid for and moving on to the next stall. It was almost dance-like in nature.
Truthfully, Dietrich loved the plaza. It served not only as a place for him to purchase whatever he may need, but also as the defining feature of the town. For the many merchants that passed through, it served much the same purpose. All roads led to it; whoever happened to wander into the town always ended up there somehow. Like moths drawn to a flame, really.
A glance around revealed that to be true; there were several unfamiliar faces drifting aimlessly through the crowds, although none of them really caught his eye. Watching some of them for a moment didn't reveal anything particularly special, but as more people made their way in and out of the square. And that was when Dietrich spotted her.
There was something — for lack of a better word — ethereal about the woman. Perhaps it was the regal way in which she dressed, or perhaps it was her confident gait that caught his attention. The man trailing behind her wasn't particularly remarkable, but something about the woman was irresistible to Dietrich.
He strode over with confidence, drawing an apple from the basket hanging loosely in his other hand. He held it out to the woman as he drew closer and closer to the unfamiliar duo. "Care for an apple?" came his deep voice. He offered a smile as he peered directly into the woman's eyes, completely unaware that she was a princess from a foreign land.
// sugarsnap ! Hope this is good !!
— Dietrich Vogel Schmidt.
— Twenty-eight years old.
— Cisgender male.
— Bisexual.
— 6'2", 180 lbs. Athletic build.
— Faceclaim is Armie Hammer.
