EFate: An MMO Story - Chapter 67: Falchion
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Chapter 67: Falchion

Mark had yet to return, and Griffin seemed to have disappeared somewhere, leaving Eric to stand alone at the smithy. Watching Tom work, Eric stood there silently, waiting for the man to finish his work.

With a serious look upon his face, Tom hammered at Griffin's chainmail, gently closing a new link onto the armourpiece. The shield sat nearby, looking far better than it had when Eric had last seen it only half an hour ago. The metallic boss in the center had been repaired, and much of the wood had been magically repaired, the gouges and holes that had once covered its frame now gone.

Looking up from his work, Tom spied Eric waiting at the entrance to the smithy. Looking at the half-elf, a huge grin blossomed on his craggy face.

"Back already? Ye ready ta choose a new blade?" Tom hollered, waving at Eric.

"As long as I'm not interrupting you. I can wait for you to finish," Eric replied, entering the forge as he greeted the smith.

"Nonsense! I'm jus' about done wit this hauberk. It really jus' needs ta cool down now," Tom explained, laying the chainmail across a nearby rack.

Looking at the chainmail, Eric could see that Tom was indeed correct. The armour had been repaired well, with only a few scratches remaining to show for the recent abuse it had been put through.

"Guess I'm good then. Did you want me to just pick out a sword?"

Tom scoffed at this, "Do ah look like some stupid merchant who sells weapons ta people without considering their needs? Follow me, we'll find a weapon that suits ya."

Following Tom to the back of the forge, Eric found himself standing in front of the wall of weapons that he'd seen upon his first trip to the shop. All sorts of weapons hung upon the wall, from shortswords a little more than a foot in length, to enormous axes almost the size of Eric himself. The overwhelming majority of weapons were swords and spears, axes made up the next largest group, while maces and other more exotic weapons were rarities that stood out among the rest.

While the overall selection may not have been the greatest due to the size of the smithy, it was clear to Eric that Tom had worked hard to create as diverse a selection of weaponry as he could. Looking closely at the wall, Eric attempted to choose a weapon, observing each blade carefully as he did.

After a few moments of this Eric sighed, which elicited a laugh from Tom.

"Can't choose, eh?"

"I just don't have the experience to decide. I only started using swords a few days ago, and I've never even tried to use an axe or a mace," Eric explained sheepishly.

Tom winked at him, "That's why ye have me. I'll help ya decide on a weapon that'll serve you well."

Pausing for a moment, Tom observed Eric carefully. The half-elfs body was on the slimmer side, with a lithe form more suited to agilely dodging than taking blows head on. Muttering to himself, Tom grabbed a sword from the wall. Holding it up, he looked between Eric and the sword. Shaking his head, he placed it back on the wall, grabbing another sword and repeating the process.

With a slightly confused look, Eric watched Tom's antics. Finally, just as he was about to ask the man what he was doing, Tom nodded in satisfaction and pa.s.sed the sword he was holding to Eric.

"Try that one on fer size. Do a couple o'swings jus' over there," Tom said, pointing to an open s.p.a.ce in his garden where a couple of water barrels sat.

Accepting the proffered blade, Eric made his way to the garden. Observing the blade, he could see that Tom had chosen a one-handed sword, with a wide blade. Giving it a few experimental swings, Eric activated Dashing Cut, rushing forward through the gra.s.s and making a heavy downwards cut.

Observing the half-elf, Tom grabbed another sword. Exchanging the weapon for the one in Eric's hand, Tom watched as he practiced his swordsmanship.

After a few rounds of this, Tom broke out into a grin, "That's the one. Ye should use that one."

"Why's that?" Eric panted, resting his hands on his legs as he attempted to catch his breath.

"Yer fighting style isn't suited ta the heavy blows from Orcish sword styles, which means ye don't want too large a weapon. Yer too light on yer feet and ye don't put enough weight behind yer attacks. But ye also don't seem ta rely on pure footwork like the elves do, yer agile but ye use that agility differently than they do. Anyways that means ya don't want too slim a weapon like a rapier. A falchion like that un ye've got there is better suited to yer style," Tom explained.

"And you can tell all that just from watching me waving a sword around?" Eric asked incredulously.

Tom smiled, "I used ta be in the army myself. Served way up north wit da Gall Óglaigh fer a few years. Learned plenty aboot fighting meself. But when Tarn was born, I retired back to Tonbura, and picked up blacksmithing like me father always wanted. Quite a few of me designs are based upon some of the weapons I saw in my service," he explained, his eyes growing misty as he reminisced about days long gone.

Shaking his head to snap out of it, Tom smiled at Eric, "That falchion is a bit more than four Sricks. I'll have ta ask ye to give me a bit more than ye were planning if ye want that one."

Observing the sword in his hand, Eric thought for a second. The falchion was a beautiful weapon, just over two feet long with a slightly curved edge that culminated in a wicked point.

"You really think it suits me?" Eric asked.

"If I'm being honest, I think that ye chose correctly when ye asked for the bow the first day we met," Tom replied.

Eric winced, "Ouch."

"Don't take it too harshly. Ye've only been training for a few days after all. And yer movements are solid, it's just once you swing yer blade that things start to fall apart. Feels like yer fighting yer instincts, or like ye've been trained in a different style of fighting. Anyways, will ye be takin the sword or not?"

Eric debated for a moment before nodding. Grabbing a handful of Sricks, he paid Tom for the falchion. Disappearing into his house for a moment, Tom returned with a new scabbard which Eric attached to his belt, handing the old one to Tom.

A few minutes later, Mark and Griffin returned. Griffin had apparently gone to find a baker, having returned with a still warm loaf of bread that he was now tearing into.

Collecting their gear, the trio thanked Tom, promising to take better care of their equipment this time around before leaving.

"So what's the plan?" Eric asked as the three strolled down the road, fresh loaves of bread now held in both his and Mark's hands.

"Meet the militia captain, then go back to elite hunting? We didn't actually manage to hunt any elites last time, or anything at all really now that I think of it. Did we kill anything?" Griffin asked.

"We killed a few demonic rabbits and other small monsters on the way there, does that count?"

"Not really."

"Then no," Eric replied, taking a bite from his bread.

Mark looked pensive for a moment, "Griffin's probably got the right idea. We'll report to the militia captain first. Tell him about the Swordclaw. Then we can go hunting for elites. If we're lucky, he'll have a quest for us."

"I've got a quest to find ores now as well," said Griffin.

"Oh yeah? Where'd you get that?" Mark asked in surprise.

"Tom. I've decided to become a blacksmith apprentice. He told me that if I want to be taught, I need to bring my own ores as there's a shortage right now. He sold me a pickaxe and taught me how to recognize ores. I gained an ore detection skill that should help me with that," Griffin explained.

"Blacksmithing, eh? I wonder if I should take up a profession too," Eric mused.

"It's not a bad idea. We should probably all pick up at least one profession. Maybe we can coordinate with the other guys to make sure we cover all the important stuff," Mark replied.

Making their way to the militia barracks, the trio made their reports to Captain Alistair who rewarded them for their efforts with money and information on nearby monster locations. Thanking the captain, the group left in high spirits, ready to begin hunting elites.

~~~

Important Notice:

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