As we arive in the smithy, mom mushes me to the shop attendant. "HI, Gary." I say. The smith's apprentice/shop keeper for the day nods, and smiles.

  "Bites! Long time no see. How's it been?" He asks.

  "Poor, if I'm honest, but that's why I'm here. I will need my armor checked and repaired, if necessary, and I would like your help with buying a sword." I say, glancing at mom. She nods, and I nod back.

  We had talked on the way here about what I would need, and what she could help me with. She had suggested that I, in her words, 'Finally get something more elegant then that executioners axe you love so'. By that, she ment a sword.

  She favored arabian curved sword. Kind of like a sabre, but far more heavy on the curve. I hadn't found anything to my tastes as a child, as polearms were, and always had been my preference. But, she had taught me the basics, and I did see here point. If barely.

  "Of course, that's entirely doable. But, if I may, haven't you checked your armor yourself?" He asks.

  "Of course, but I'm in the city, and I might as well get a professional's opinion. It's out front, can you get some lads to pull it back?"

  "Yes, one moment." He says. He turns, and heads to the back, and a minute later, two younger boys around Gary's age come out and exit the front. I can hear one lad start to curse as he tries to drag the cart, and finds it heavier then expected.

  "New hires?" I ask.

  "Aye. Master has us all on rotation, ya know. Now, what was this about getting a blade? You've not asked before, why now?" He asks, rummaging through drawers, probably looking for sketches of designs.

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  I had done the same for my knives, after all. One of the attendants would pull drawings of designs, and I would pick through each, finding what I want. When a design was chosen, details were taken to the buyer's specifications.

  Last time, I had gotten a Rondel dagger, or a knights dagger. It was especially a hardened spike of steel made to go through joints in heavy armor. I had also picked up a twin edged straight blade for utility's sake.

  This time, when Gary pulled out the designs, there was a veritable pile of them. More then last time for certain.

  "Now, let's get the initial desires out of the way. What are you looking for?" He asked.

  Mom and I hadn't gone over this, but since the topic had been brought up, I had given it some thought. So, I began to lay out my wants.

  "Well, first, I want a curved blade, on the heavier side." I said, and Gary took away some parchment. "Wide and thick, lighter on the curve." I say. More shuffling, and more designs were removed. "Let's see... not a regular cross guard, as I'm going a one handed sword..." I say, and more shuffling commences. When he is finished, there are still quite a few designs on the counter.

  "Anything else?" He asks.

  "No, that's the broad idea of what I want."

  "Ok. So, I'm going ti rapid fire some to get them out of the way. Hmmm, not this, no no. How about this?" He picks up a one handed sabre with a cup hilt.

  "Hmmm... No. No, I don't think so. Let's remove these... hmmm. Actually, how about this?" He raises the next picture. It is elegant in its simplicity, almost right, but not quite.

  "Close, can I see more like that?" I ask. He nods, and pulls alot of the paper away. When he spreads out the remaining ones, I see one that I like immediately. Mom, however, just groans.

  "That. That one." I say, pointing.

  "Ah, a variant of the Langes Messer. Now I get what you were thinking of. Ok, now. How about the specifics?"

  "Hm. About 50 inches long, fit to my hand. No ornaments, nothing fancy. That's it." I say. No need to be a picky ass. I had gotten my weapons from this shop before, and knew they did good work.

  "Ok, let me get Master for you. He's got standing orders to get him if one of your kin comes." He said. I chuckle, and mom snorts.

  He heads back, and the incessant pounding stops. A bit later, a short bearded man walks out, and gets on a stool.

  "Ah, Bites! Been too long ye'v been awey, las! An is 'at Feels, ay? Gods above, you lot 'aven't been 'ere in a while. Now, my apprentice 'ere says yer lookin fer a blade. Give it tae me." He says.

  I quite liked Master Doromir. He may be small, but he was almost as strong as me, honest in everything (to his detriment at times), and just generally a good person. So, I quickly run over what I want again, and he nods.

  "Doable. Gary, get me tha'- Ah, yep. Good." He says. He takes the ink and wood from Gary, and I put out my hand. He pours ink on my hand, and I rub it across my palm and fingers.

  "Grab the stick, 'n let's get about it." He says. I grabbed the stick, and my print is left on the wood. Doromir grabbed the stick, and put it to the side. He grabbed the bucket Gary had fetched, giving a thanks, and I stuck my hands in the provided water.

  When I finished, he handed the bucket back to Gary, who took it away. "Will that be all?" He asked.

  I nod, and he waves me off. "Two weeks, an' it'll be done. I twist ye on the payment, so go on, lass, quit hogging my floor." He said kindly. I smile, and turn to leave.