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Heart of Dorkness
Scourge Thirty-One - Staff

Scourge Thirty-One - Staff

Scourge Thirty-One - Staff

The girls and I walk into the weapon’s shop after making sure that there aren’t any Templars waiting for us inside.

It wasn’t like being seen by a few Templars would be a huge problem. I don’t think most of them would be able to tell that we’re secretly working for Mom just at a glance. They’d need to ask us and then use their truth-hearing ability to discover that. But there’s also a small chance that any Templar we ran across was in Montele when we were.

Or maybe they’ll have heard of us? I don’t think we look all that strange. Felix and Esme are pretty unique, but I think they can blend into any crowd and if Templars start questioning every group of girls they run across that might wreck their reputation.

And it has been a few years.

Basically, I give us pretty good odds of not getting into any sort of trouble if we run across a Templar out on the street.

“Hello, hello!” the shopkeeper says as we file in. “Welcome, how can I help you young ladies?”

“We’re just looking,” Felix says with one of her more charming smiles. “Thanks, old man.”

“Old man?” the shopkeeper says. He looks a bit taken aback by that, then he reaches up to touch the bald spot on the middle of his head.

The shop’s split into two sections, the entrance with a counter up near the door and a bunch of weapons on racks to the right of that. To the left is a missing doorway and another section that’s filled with even more weapons, with some bits of armour on mannequins and on wall-mounted shelves.

“So, you’re looking for something sharp, Felix?” I ask as I skip over to my friend.

She nods. “Yeah. I think I could use something with a bit more reach. Daggers are nice and fast, but if we’re going to be aliven’ting more undead I want something with more range so that I can batter them from further off.”

I narrow my eyes at her when she uses her made-up word again (as a verb no less!) but that only gets her to smile more.

“What about you guys?” I ask Bianca and Esme.

“I’m good, I think,” Esme says. “I have my magic.”

“I wish I were so confident with my own magical abilities,” Bianca says. “But I’m afraid I’m not quite there yet. Maybe I should get a small knife of my own? Something I can keep next to wherever I’m sleeping?”

I nod encouragingly. She must be thinking about that assassination attempt a few days ago. I haven’t asked her if she’s having a hard time sleeping after that. That’s... not ideal, actually.

“If you want,” I say, my voice pitched a little lower. “We can sleep in the same room from now on. That way there will always be two of us in case something happens.”

Bianca looks at me, then her shoulders slump just a tiny bit. “I think that would be welcome. Thank you, Valeria.”

“No problem,” I say. I turn to the others, who are both staring. “So, big stick for Felix?”

“If the ladies don’t mind,” the shopkeeper says as he comes around his counter. “I can certainly assist.”

“Sure,” Felix says. “I’m looking for something with more range to it. I’m trained in using daggers, at least a little. They suit me, but we’ve been running into things that I don’t want to get as close to.”

“I see,” he says. “Is there something going on outside of the city? There seem to be an abundance of young ladies asking for weapons lately.”

“Oh?” Esme asks. “There have been more lately?”

“One,” he says as he walks over to a far wall. There are racks mounted there, with spears and halberds held horizontally against the wall. “A young lady showed up with some Templars. I must admit I might not have been as kind to her as I should have. She was in quite a tiff with me.”

“What did she buy?” I ask. A young lady with the Templars? It can’t be.

“A sword,” he says. “One of my finer models. Nothing decorated or beautiful, just a simple armsman’s weapon. I would have expected a young lady to prefer a more elegant weapon.”

“Nah, being able to kill your enemies is plenty elegant,” Felix says with a knowing nod.

The shopkeeper eyes her for a bit, then coughs and moves on. “Well, here is my selection of polearms. Do you have any training with any of these?”

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I eye all the halberds and spears. Most are simple and even a bit plain, but a few have carved hafts with decorative heads on them.

“I don’t, no,” Felix says. “How much training do you need for one of these?”

The shopkeep hums to himself as he eyes the weapons on display. “Common knowledge dictates that spears and the like are the easiest weapon to master. But common knowledge is commonly wrong. There’s some truth to it, of course. But I don’t think just anyone can grab a spear and be fully proficient with it without any practice. The truly excellent spear-fighters, of course, spend years training to perfect their art.”

“Right,” Felix says. “We’re travelling a lot too, so I guess that rules out any of the heavier or bigger ones.” She points to a halberd that has to be at least three metres long. “I can’t imagine carrying that around the city.”

“How about a compromise then,” the shopkeep says. He kneels down and picks a long staff from near the bottom of the wall. It’s about half a head taller than Felix when he sets it upright, with no carvings on it at all. Both ends of the staff are made of metal, about a forearm-long. “This is a weighted staff, but it does have a few tricks to it.”

“Oh?” Felix asks. She reaches for it, and the shopkeep lets her take it. “This is a bit heavier than it looks,” she says as she lifts it up.

“It is. The cap on this end has threading on the tip, like the head of a broom.” He taps the end of the staff, then turns and pulls a long knife from another rack. It has noticeable threading on the end of the pommel, and a fairly short handle too. “Here, try attaching this to the end.”

“Oh,” Felix says. “That’s neat!”

“Why is it made that way?” Esme asks. “Why not just have it attached?”

“It’s actually from far to the south. Serfs are not allowed to carry a spear there. A knife is fine, of course, and no one will begrudge them carrying a staff for walking.”

Felix chuckles as she finishes fixing the knife on the end. “This is very neat. I like it,” she says. “I’ll be able to practise with it as a spear, and in the meantime, I do know how to bash things’ heads in with a stick.”

“Sticks are pretty neat,” I agree. Just teaching some of the cleverer monsters how to pick up sticks makes them a whole lot more dangerous, and Felix is a bit smarter than those. “Do you want it?”

“Yeah, I like it,” Felix says. “It looks well-made, too.”

“Simple, but quality,” the shopkeeper says. “Can I help you with anything else?”

“Bianca here needs a good dagger,” I say.

We’re directed to a case that’s filled with all sorts of knives and daggers (the difference being somewhat semantic) and Bianca stares at them all before picking one or two out and stabbing at the air with them. “I don’t know what I’m looking for here,” Bianca admits. “While I’m not averse to using one of these, I don’t have any practical idea on where to start.”

“See the sharp side? Slice them with that,” Felix says.

I poke her in the short ribs. “Don’t be silly. You’ll probably want something that fits your hand well. Some of these are made for people with big hands.”

“It doesn’t need to be pretty,” Esme points out. “One sided is probably best too, since you’re less likely to hurt yourself, and it will be easier to maintain.”

Bianca nods. “Is it wrong that I also want something that’s somewhat nice to look upon?”

I giggle. “That’s fine. You’re very pretty, so you should have a pretty dagger too, right?”

Bianca chuckles. “I suppose so. I’ve found, over the last few days, that perhaps many of the things I cared about aren’t as important as I may once have thought.” She plucked a dagger from the rack, a longer, narrower blade, with a reinforced middle and an inline point. It was covered in delicate filigree, but only along the spine and around the small guard. “I think this will do. It has a sheath too.”

“Perfect,” I say.

The shopkeep is all smiles and nods as I fish out the gold to pay for everything.

“Where to next?” I ask as we step out onto the street.

“There is one place I’d like to visit,” Bianca says.

***