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Witchbound
CHAPTER ELEVEN: The Famed Arsenal

CHAPTER ELEVEN: The Famed Arsenal

CHAPTER ELEVEN: The Famed Arsenal

"Ser Lee, are you sure that was wise?"

"Hmm?" Carter looked over at Rann, who was leading him away from the shops of Finnan's Circle. The dark-haired man was dressed in his new traveler's clothing so he wasn't getting as many stares as he did while wearing his suit. The leather pack on his back was filled with not only his recent purchases but the sixty gold that he had just made by selling junk from Earth. All in all, it was quite a profitable trip.

"Selling your Artifacts," Rann said. "Was that truly a wise decision?"

Carter shrugged. "Like I said, I needed the money."

"But, Ser! The Artifacts are remnants of the witches! They're evil!"

A pulse of pain rang out from the side of Carter's skull. He suddenly stopped walking as he pressed a hand against the right side of his head where the pain had originated from. It was gone as quickly as it had occurred, but he was left with a lingering sense of dread.

"What the hell?" He muttered to himself.

"Ser Lee?" Rann had stopped moving when he saw Carter in pain. "Are you unwell? Should I go fetch Curate Poxis?"

Carter shook his head. Whatever that episode was, it had passed. "No, no. I'm fine. What were you saying? Something about witches?"

Rann nodded. "Yes, Ser. The witches. They created the Artifacts before they were all killed off. The church says nothing good can come of them."

Oh, it was a religious thing. "Is it illegal to own artifacts?"

Rann frowned. "Well, no. Many rich folk own Artifacts, some even flaunt them out in public. But all good, devout believers of Valica know not to mess with 'em."

"I see." So only the religious people didn't like these artifacts. Oh well, as long as it wasn't against the law to own or sell them, Carter didn't see a problem. "Don't worry, Rann. I assure you that the artifacts I own aren't dangerous. They're harmless, mostly for decoration."

The young guardsman didn't look convinced but seemed to take him at his word. "Alright, Ser. You'd know best. I just wanted to inform you, in case you didn't know. That's all."

"I appreciate it," Carter said, and he meant it. Knowing more about the mores and customs of this world didn't hurt, it only served to better his chances of surviving here.

"Well, Ser. Was there any particular place you wished to go?" asked Rann.

Carter looked around at the shops in the circle. There was a bakery nearby with the smell of freshly baked bread emanating from the open windows. A cobbler was next to it, with boots and shoes displayed at the window. Across the street was a bookstore and next to that was a tea shop. Frankly, none of them struck Carter's fancy.

"Not really, no. I've pretty much got everything I need from Loghar's," he said.

"Well then, if you don't mind me saying so, Ser, I've got your next stop in mind," Rann remarked with a grin.

"You do?"

"Aye." The guardsman looked him up and down, taking in the cloak, boots, and other traveling gear he had just bought. "You're definitely looking the part of the proper traveler. The only thing you're missing is a weapon."

Carter blinked. "A weapon?"

"Yes, Ser. You've gone about all this time without one! While carrying two Artefacts no less! You're just asking for a robbing."

Damn, Rann was right. How had he not even bothered to think about getting something for self-defense? He had owned a gun back home, after all, and this world was much, much more dangerous than his own.

"You're right. I can't believe I forgot about getting a weapon," Carter told him. "Do you know of any weapon shops we can visit?"

Rann smirked. "I know just the place, Ser." He turned around and began heading back down the road they had just walked through. "The Arsenal's just a bit of a ways, but we've still got plenty of time before nightfall."

Carter nodded and moved to quickly follow his escort.

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The Famed Arsenal was quite a grandiose name for such an ordinary-looking shop. Unlike Logher's Emporium, it was small, with only a single story and half the floor space. But it was filled to the brim with merchandise, with all four walls as well as numerous display stands propped to the brink with weapons of all kinds.

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Carter was currently looking through one of the displays, which held spears of differing lengths. Each haft was made of different types of wood and the spearheads were all steel of varying designs.

"Do you see anything that suits you, Ser Lee?" Rann asked from his spot at the door.

"Not yet."

Sadly, Carter had yet to see anything that struck his fancy. The weapons all looked of good quality and extremely lethal. The only thing wrong was that he had absolutely no experience in how to use any of them. He had taken fencing in college, but that was so long ago he hardly remembered anything from his lessons. Also, none of the swords in the shop was a good match for the epee, foil, or sabers used in fencing, with most of them being longswords and larger.

The weapons he was actually best suited for were guns. He had been trained in the use of various firearms during his stint in the Navy, from the 9mm pistol to the twelve gauge shotgun. He also had some experience using rifles like the M14. Even after his time in the military, Carter had regularly practiced his aim at the range with the revolver he used for home defense.

Unfortunately, it looked like guns hadn't been invented in this world yet. There were none to be seen among the numerous racks of weapons in the shop. Even primitive firearms like flintlocks and matchlocks were absent.

Carter silently lamented the absence of his preferred weapon as he continued to peruse the equipment around him. He wandered over to the sword area and began looking for something, anything, he would be suited to. He noted the length and width of the blades and took a few in hand to test their weight. Eventually, he settled on a smaller arming sword, which was one-handed like the practice swords in his fencing classes, though the blade was wider and shorter than what he was used to.

Carter took the weapon up to the front counter where a large, girthy man made of all muscles and long beard waited for him. The bear of a man had been eyeing him suspiciously the moment he had entered his shop. Carter wondered if the man treated all his potential customers like this, or if there was something about him personally that just rankled the big guy.

Rann seemed to know the hulking shopkeep personally and had called him "Walc" in his greetings, but the man merely nodded at the young guardsman in acknowledgment before continuing to glare at Carter as he shopped.

"I'll, uh, take this one," Carter told the beast behind the counter as he placed the sword down in front of him.

The big man, Walc, grunted before turning around and going into the back rooms. He came out a minute later with a scabbard that looked to match the sword Carter had chosen. It was about the length of the blade and was made of plain brown leather. The shopkeep placed it on the counter next to the arming sword and peered down at Carter sternly.

"That it?" Walc asked in a deep, rumbly voice.

Carter was about to nod when he suddenly had a thought.

"Knives," he said aloud. "Do you, uh, have any?"

The giant nodded, mumbling something under his breath before reaching down below the counter. He pulled out several different sets of knives from a drawer, placing them carefully onto the countertop for Carter to look at.

"Nice," he whispered as he looked over the cutlery. There were numerous daggers as well as several hunting variants. Carter took up one particular wide-bladed hunting knife and noted with a grin that it looked kind of like a medieval version of the KA-BAR the marines on his ship used to have. The blade was wider and a shiny silver instead of a matte black, but the leather-wrapped wooden handle made it resemble the iconic knife extremely well. If this thing worked as well as a KA-BAR then he'd have a great all-purpose knife.

"I'll take this as well."

Walc grunted, reaching into the same drawer to pull out a small, leather sheath that matched the knife Carter had chosen.

"Sword's twenty silver. Knife is fifteen." The big man's deep and gruff voice added the finality of the grave to the short two sentences he had uttered. Carter didn't bother to haggle, paying the man exactly what he wanted.