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I like your example @j-a-penrose. 🙂 Here’s an excerpt (575 words :P) from a current story I’m writing:

The blacksmith lifted his work off the forge and set it to cool on a rack. He sighed and wiped his hands off. “Well Caleb? I assume you didn’t come on business or to inquire after my family.”

Caleb smiled tightly and shook his head. “Hugh, I need help.”

“What is it this time?”

Caleb traced the head of an anvil laying out. “I did something you’d call stupid.”

The Blacksmith raised an eyebrow. “What am I? A priest to listen to your confessions?”

“Well, I kinda need your advice now.”

“And you think I will give it even though he continually ignore it?”

“Yes.”

Hugh sighed again and sat down on his bench. “What did you do?”

Caleb glanced out the window, checking for the gleaming helmets of soldiers. “I’ll show you but I can’t put it on the table,” he whispered.

“Show me what?”

Caleb grimaced and pulled out the velvet pouch from his pocket and dropped it into the blacksmith’s cupped hands. “That,” he breathed out and supported himself against the table. Realization washed over the blacksmith’s face.

“This isn’t-”

Caleb nodded excitedly. “Yes. It is.”

Hugh still hadn’t moved. “Caleb, this isn’t the way,” he said and stopped. Slowly he untied the red ribbons and pulled the bag open. He quickly re-tied them and closed his fist around it. “Caleb you didn’t. I thought you were joking about it!”

Caleb shrugged and then grimaced at the pain in his shoulder. He bit his lip and steadied himself against the table. “Why not?”

“They’ll be after you in less than an hour!” the blacksmith grunted.

Caleb smiled sourly. “They already are,” he said and peeled back his coat revealing the sticky red blood covering his shirt.

‘You’re a fool Caleb.”

“A sneaky one.”

“With a wound like that? They must have caught you in the act and they won’t ever stop chasing you. Sit down and let me look at that.”

“No, I came for your advice not your pity.”

“But you’ve already lost a lot of blood and you don’t want that to get infected. My advice is clean that up!”

Caleb frowned. “I really need to go.”

“At least let me give you some bandages.”

He thought for a moment and then nodded. “Sure.”

“Wait just a second!” The blacksmith bolted up, set the velvet pouch on the table, and hurried to the back room. Caleb snatched up the pouch and slipped it back into his pocket, taking another glance out the window and into the street. No soldiers. Yet.

The blacksmith came back with a satchel and thrust it into Caleb hands.

“Good luck friend.” Caleb nodded and reached for the door. “Wait,” Hugh said.

“Yes?”

“You asked for my advice.”

“Yes.”

“Caleb, don’t take lightly the advice of friends.”

He grinned. “Like you?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point – Caleb, I know we’ve never seen eye to eye on politics or life really, but be careful and don’t let that,” he motioned to the pocket, “Don’t let it fall into the wrong hands.” Who knew if it was even in the right hands now?

Caleb nodded, “I know. Thanks Hugh,” and he opened the door and stepped out.