[ WP ] Your a brilliant inventor who lives in a fantasy world stuck in a medieval stasis who is struggling to get people to take your inventions and ideas serious

The sound of a small bell rung across the store as the heavy door swung open effortlessly, marking the arrival of customers. 
 
 `` Yes, yes, coming!'' A voice from somewhere in the back shouted, followed quickly by the sound of a thousand forks being dropped into a bathtub. 
 
 Seconds later a young woman dropped down from a hatch in the ceiling, landing in a crash behind the counter, before quickly standing back up again. She was wearing the same apron and the cloth wrapped around her head often used by smiths, dirt, and grime covering most of its surface making it difficult to ascertain the original color of the material. Her hands were covered by heavy leather gloves and she seemed to be wearing some sort of cloth tunic. 
 
 `` How may I help you?'' She said, smiling profusely at her potential customers. If nothing else, the swords at their sides and armor at their backs betrayed their interest in her wares. 
 
 The smaller of the two stepped forward to the counter, being careful not to crush any of the small devices scattered all across the room. 
 
 `` Well, my associate and I were hoping to purchase some armaments.'' He scanned the room quickly, all open spaces occupied by either blades bolts, or something in between. `` I assume we've come to the right place. 
 
 `` Right you are!'' she said, diving under her desk and rummaging through more metallic sounding objects. `` I've got all kinds of weapons: Bombs, Double-Arrows, Triple-Arrows, Bomb arrows, you name it.'' When she stood up again, a lense-like device adorned her forehead, which she promptly lowered over her eyes. 
 
 The larger man in the back stared at her like she'd just spit on his armor, but the foremost gentleman managed a nervous smile in response. `` Let's maybe stick to swords, shall we?'' 
 
 `` Sure, I have plenty of swords!'' She said enthusiastically, walking over to a string hanging loosely from the ceiling. Pulling it gently, the leftmost wall fell back to reveal a second wall, this one adorned with intricate looking swords of varying sizes. `` Just pick anything you like.'' 
 
 You could almost see the jaw drop on the heavily armored gentleman in the back, and even his friend looked awestruck in the face of such fine craftsmanship. 
 
 The larger man walked up to the wall, caring little for what he stepped on, his eyes fixed on the weapons. He gently lifted a monstrously large blade off the wall, surprised by its relatively low weight, and held it out before him as he studied it. 
 
 `` Ah, a fine choice!'' The shopkeeper exclaimed, somehow already right next to him. `` I call this one the svizarmy sword, here let me show you how it works.'' 
 
 Before he even had the chance to protest, she had already reached over and pushed a small button on the hilt which caused the sword to fold unto itself. In less than a second, the hilt had more than tripled, and he found himself holding onto a large glaive instead. 
 
 Instinctively, he dropped the absurdly long weapon, withdrawing his hand like it had been burnt. `` Witch!'' He shouted in a very high pitch, already making his way to the door. `` Keep your magic weapons to yourself!'' 
 
 `` But they're not-'' The door slammed loudly against its frame as he left. `` -magic...'' She sighed heavily as she watched yet another bag of gold waltz out of her establishment. 
 
 At the sound of someone clearing their voice, she turned to face the other gentleman, holding the glaive and studying it intently. 
 
 `` You would n't happen to have anything like this but smaller, would you?'' 
 
 Her face lit up again, as she smiled mischievously at him, `` I take custom orders.''
