Prompt: The story is set in a shop. The story takes place in the spring. During the story, there is a rebellion against the ruling order. The story must have a champion at the beginning. A character is lonely throughout most of the story.
During the story, there is an attack. A character becomes tense during the story.

	On a warm, breezy spring afternoon, Archie’s store stood above a hill with next to no customers inside.  He had finished polishing his register for the 14th time, in a vain attempt wipe out graffiti of a crudely drawn naked woman.  “Damn those teenagers,” Archie grumbled as he rubbed the register aggressively, “I’ll show ‘em. Just a few more strokes and it’ll get off!”  Archie’s store, Oddball Weapons, was a place home to various strange and unconventional weapons throughout history.  Weapons that ranged from a sword with a detachable blade for the sake of throwing off an enemy’s guard, an axe with no handle, a pair of boots with daggers at the tips and at the heels, and a crossbow that can only fire slices of fruit.  And with these strange weapons, came only a very niche demand. It was just another slow day in the year and despite winter finally coming to a close, spring did not look promising for sales.
	“Perhaps Pa was right, “Archie said, sighing, “I should have just trained to become a smithy.  Who would want any of these pieces of junk!?”   Just then, the door to Archie’s shop slammed open! The breeze from the outside hurried in and in the doorway stood an imposing figure.  A man with rippling muscles, tattered clothing and blonde mullet hairstyle walked inside, closing the door behind him.  He looked around with his beady eyes over the store with a permanent grimace.  His eyes then shot a glance over Archie, cowering behind the register stand.
	“You sir,” the man spoke, “are you the proprietor of this establishment of weapons?”  His voice betrayed his brutish appearance.  It was rather deep, but spoke with a strange calming quality to it.  Archie shook but gathered the courage to stand up.  The man was now right in front of him, towering over his puny height.  Archie was only a measly five feet but the man seemed like he was hitting 7, the ceiling could barely contain him.
	“Pro-…Oh yes I am the owner!” Archie quickly gathered himself; the time of business was at hand!  “Interested in my wares traveler? Y-You won’t find anything else here from across the land!”
	“So I have noticed,” the man responded, “I am Bartholomew, Son of Korthok.  I have come to this land to reclaim what is mind and usurp your king.  Your establishment was the first landmark I came across as I entered.  I ask that you provide me with one of your finest weapons so I may claim this kingdom, reclaim the throne, and avenge my father. “
	Archie gulped.  Despite just meeting, the imposing man already began to tell of his life’s tale before him.  He wasn’t about to dispute his claims, but the thought of the king being sacked seemed positively delightful. “K-King Harruk you mean?  That bastard has been taxing us all to death! His rules make no sense and I barely have enough to make an upkeep of this place. Ahem…if you are true with your words-“
	Bartholomew lowered his head so his face was right near Archie, “I do not lie.”
	“I-I DID NOT SAY YOU WERE! I o-only wanted to…well that is to say…bah! Yes! I am with you! I am willing to assist you!”  Archie held onto his chest, he had to check if he didn’t suddenly pass away from the mere idea of this man ripping him apart.
	“There is a problem however…” Bartholomew reached out his hand.  It was a massive hand, filthy with dirt and dry blood and as he his opened his palm, Archie winced.  Was this all a set up to be robbed?  When nothing happened, Archie peaked out with one eye, only to see that Bartholomew had his hand open, an empty palm.  “I…have no way of paying for your weapons.”
	“Beg your p-pardon” Archie said, as he regained his composure, “You have no money on you at all?”
	Bartholomew nodded, “I come from a distant land where we do not use your conventional forms of currency.  Normally we trade items that believe are of equal worth and-“
	“Woah woah woah, okay hold on there,” said Archie, “While I get you’re not from around here, do you realize I can’t just GIVE this stuff away?  You’re already getting me to gamble with my business with your rebellion game and you don’t have any means to pay me at all.  But let me guess, you expect me to just take your damn word?!”
	Bartholomew was taken aback from Archie’s tantrum, “It is shameful for me to ask something which is most precious to you. But my journey here had cost me my prior armaments and some I had to trade away just to survive a night. “He bowed his head, “I beg you sir, I only wish to acquire your amazing weapons so that I may bring justice to this land.”
	“No, I don’t think so,” Archie began to go red in the face, “you think just because you got the body of some hulking ogre that you can just waltz in with your sugary talk, with a closed fist and tell me to….to…did you just say my weapons were amazing?”
	Bartholomew nodded, “Yes, yes sir!  These are the exact weapons I need!  They are strange but in my hands, I can use them for their fullest potential!  I will make it so, just you see!”
	Archie pondered for a moment.  The man wasn’t quite as intimidating as he had thought but no one had ever complimented his collection before.  Many never really share Archie’s passion for unconventional tools.  They thought he was a fool, a mad man trying to sucker unsuspecting travelers with weapons that could lead to their imminent doom.  He felt so isolated from his peers and he wanted to get away from all the heckling.  IT’s why his store stood up atop a lonely hill that would perhaps one day attract someone who truly shared his passion.
	“…take them,” Archie said, “Just take all what you can and go.”
	Bartholomew grew a small smile across his face, but it stopped as he realized Archie’s somber face.  He then spoke, “No…I need one more thing.”  He grabbed the strange sword with the detachable blade.
	Archie looked at him, “What else could you need?”
	Bartholomew placed the strange blade on Archie hand, “I need a master to train me.”