Morlekai turned to the smith who had witnessed their no-holds-barred sparring. “Thoughts?”

The smith gave a thoughtful nod. “He’ll do well with my spear bardiche. As for the nagamaki variant? That depends.” He turned to Eric. “Know what a draw cut is?”

Eric answered by way of a smile.

And a blade flashing in the blink of an eye.

Iado skillcheck made! You have successfully sliced through 3 layers of Greater Rat hide!

The others lurched back when Eric’s training pel of what felt like a lifetime ago… but had it really been less than a day? Suddenly appeared.

Or perhaps it was when he unsheathed his blade and struck, twisting his hips in a fully extended draw cut, before whipping his blade around in a second cleaving slash as he stepped back and sliced away.

Two deadly slicing cuts while knocking aside any threatening blades, and gaining two clear feet of distance from any counter attack.

And he hadn’t even used his Doom Slice perk.

Eric smiled with a certain amount of satisfaction. Even his overbearing trainer would have been proud, for once.

He was almost sure of it.

“Well, shit. That looked like some of that fancy shit they show off in tatami slicing competitions we used to watch on Self-Tube," said a bemused-looking Drake. "You secretly trained as a ninja or something?"

He blinked at the annoyed glares this earned from his companion. "What? This cat is full of secrets, and I wouldn't be surprised by anything at this point."

Eric smirked. “No, not at all. And my training with the katana and tachi was minimal while I was in Japan, though you can use saber and long sword techniques with both. And you wouldn’t believe how many purists at the dojo I pissed off by saying that students of both the English and Swiss Saber wouldn’t feel too uncomfortable with either weapon. I got three of my sensei’s students offering to give me ‘pointers’ for that insult alone.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “But besides a pair of sparring matches that I lost, yes, but not by much, I just focused on mastering a few throws and learning the variants of iado and draw-cutting that my master favored. Even if my temporary sensei didn’t think too much of my 1821 cavalry saber, he gave me respect for being willing to challenge his students without looking like a complete fool, as he put it, and he was willing to modify his techniques for show credits to his dojo, since it was what my character was using on set.”

Eric winced in painful memory. “Only other time I was in Tokyo was for a really fucked up premier I’d rather forget ever happened.”

“Show credits? What the fuck...” Louie said, muttering under his breath.

Morlekai caught the man’s questioning glance and slowly shook his head.

John Smith, however, was furrowing his brow as he examined the surprisingly deep slashes on the training pell. “It’s not very well treated, nowhere near the quality of Hobbs’ work, or even my own… but it’s definitely rawhide armor. A hell of a lot tougher to slice through than tatami mats.”

He turned to gaze consideringly at Eric, before his eyes widened with something close to horror.

“What?” Eric asked defensively.

“What the hell did you do to your blade?”

And before Eric could say a word, the man had raced up and grabbed the blade from a bemused Eric’s unresisting grip.

“For fuck’s sake, kid. You’ve totally destroyed the edge!”

Eric just stared at the man. “Does that pel covered in rawhide you yourself said was no joke look like it was struck by a ruined edge?”

Morlekai smirked. "He has you there, John."

But Smith just glared at Eric. “You’re going to chew up your blade in no time, not to mention that you risk introducing micro stress fractures. Using a steel file is not the proper way to hone an antique!”

“And yet one Captain Sutton recommended doing just that, noting that it was ideal for cutting through thick burlap, rawhide, flesh, and bone. And as you can see, the micro serrations work damn well for draw cuts, just like a serrated bread knife effortlessly sawing through bread that a smooth, perfectly tended, supposedly sharp knife is almost worthless for slicing."

The smith just gave a tired shake of his head. “At least I know you can cut, kid.” his gaze turned thoughtful. “You know what? I think I will give him one of both.” He then went off with a final nod Morlekai’s way.

“Sutton?” asked a curious looking Alice.

Eric nodded. “He was a British cavalry officer, once upon a time. And this, as you can plainly see, is a British cavalry sword. A sword that can slice, or maybe I should say saw, through rawhide and rat flesh just fine.” He chuckled softly. “Trust me, I would know that better than most.”

“Won’t do shit against good plate armor or even a chain mail shirt, I bet,” said Louie with a certain smirk.

Eric laughed. “Of course not. No sword will. That’s what axes, maces, and polearms are for. Except for being extremely useful during cavalry charges, swords are mostly sidearms. Backup weapons. Good for self-defense, duels, or dealing with assholes who aren't decked out in steel."

Morlekai flashed an enigmatic smile. “That might have been true hundreds of years ago. But it wasn’t true for the Roman Legions, and it’s not necessarily true now, in a world embracing magic and powers most couldn’t even dream of.”

“Fair point,” Eric allowed. “Which is why I’m happy to master my saber as well as my other chosen weapons. Plus, I can use it with a shield. Because sword and shield together are an effective combination, just like it was with those Legionnaires.”

Louie furrowed his brow. “What sh… Oh hell no. What kind of fucked up...” he just shook his head when Eric grinned and manifested the defensive item in question, shifting his stance to now lead with his shield. “And now it’s backsword time, baby. This saber has a lot in common with earlier blade types, so it can deliver chopping blows as well as wicked draw cuts, and the barely noticeable curve means I can thrust pretty damn effectively as well. As far as balance goes, it handles like a dream, equally nice with or without a shield.”

Alice just shook her head. “Why the fuck was this kid being trained so hardcore with medieval weapons?” She then caught Morlekai’s gaze and swallowed.

“Do you even have to ask?” he said, his voice chill as the grave.

Alice trembled, her gaze for Eric suddenly one of helpless pity. “God, I hope he didn’t have to go through that.”

Eric frowned. “I’m not quite sure what you guys are getting at, but no, nothing more dramatic than an obsessive mother and, well, training like you wouldn’t believe for the sake cinematic of verisimilitude." He flashed a wry, self-mocking smile. "Because, as she put it, I might not be able to act for shit, but at least I can look good in a sword fight."

Eric was relieved to see the smith choose that moment to return, with two very different looking weapons in hand that filled him with a sense of excitement just to see, let alone finally hold.

The first was a six-foot long polearm that looked quite similar to a glaive, with most of the two-foot long blade against the shaft, which technically made it a very long axe head. In fact, it had a lot in common with the lochaber axe, though the blade was a bit longer and the point projected out like a broad spearhead, meaning that in the cut or thrust, any opponent was going to have a very bad day.

Eric whistled with no small amount of pleasure when he finally held it in hand. Because despite the head definitely being heavier than what he was used to, it was far lighter than he thought it would be, and even with the blade only being three inches wide before it joined the shaft, he didn't doubt that it could easily cleave through limbs, necks, perhaps entire torsos, with ease. And best of all, he soon found out with a couple practice thrusts against his training pel that the blade's dimensions allowed him to make powerful thrusting jabs far more effectively than he could with his jury-rigged spear. Even if the latter would definitely be more nimble for weaving and winding around a hypothetical opponent's weapon, Eric suspected that the difference wouldn't be that great with his improved strength in play, once he learned the ins and outs of this killing tool.

Eric couldn’t hold back his grin when he gave Smith the smith a pleased nod. Because when it came to hunting vicious beasties in the underdark, this weapon would truly shine, blasting through his future prey like the wickedest of broadhead spears. And that wasn’t even considering the added benefit of being able to incorporate wicked body-cleaving chops, once he gained some proficiency with using this weapon as anything other than a broadhead spear.

“Good,” John said with a nod. “It suits you.” He flashed a hard smile. “Which is a good thing. Because I’m afraid I don’t do spears anymore, kid.”

Eric blinked, gently putting down the weapon. “May I ask why not?”

The smith nodded. “Sure. Long story short, I had a chance to specialize in a particular weapon type, which imparts bonuses of durability, weight, and sharpness. Out of all the weapon types I could choose, I chose bardiches. I’ll leave it for you to guess why.”

The man then handed Eric the second bardiche, which, though technically falling under the same category, was nothing like the first weapon, with a foot shorter haft and a wicked-looking crescent blade taking up a good half of the shaft length, the blade extending another foot over the top with a curve that would do any scimitar proud. Just looking at the wickedly sharp steel bowing over the shaft brought a fierce grin to Eric's lips, eager to embrace a weapon truly made to deliver the most devastating chops and slashes imaginable.

And much like Fat Sam's weapon, save for where the crescent blade was securely double mounted, there was more than enough space between the elevated blade and the shaft to grip with one or both hands, allowing the blade to act as its own grip guard. Which meant that the blade could be used to give wicked draw cuts up close and personal that would put even his saber to shame, or, if wielded with the hands closer to the end of the shaft, it could be swung with vicious force to deliver absolutely devastating chops and slashes.

Eric swung the unfamiliar weapon cautiously, the killing tool feeling absolutely nothing like his spear or the hewing spear’s bladed cousin that the other bardiche basically was. This weapon seemed far more suited to the deadly sweeping chops and tightly controlled moulinets and roundhouse hews that comprised so much of the greatsword or nagamaki's sweeping styles.

A style he had only witnessed on Self-Tube videos and during several rather spectacular demonstrations while visiting Japan.

A style he couldn’t help but visualize so clearly in his mind’s eye, though whether that was due to the strange connection he felt to this savage, beautiful weapon, the benefit of a mind that had been honed in battle, a property of the interface which was all too likely, or just his own delusion, he had absolutely no idea.

All he knew was that he was absolutely itching to receive training in the proper use of these two weapons. Weapons that John Smith might be calling bardiches, that the system might be treating as bardiches for the purposes of specialization, but couldn’t be more different than night and day.

Eric couldn’t help but give the man an approving smile. “Well played, fellow gamer. Well played.”

This earned a grin from the weaponsmith. "Of course I have absolutely no idea what your talking about. But if either… or both… speak to you, feel free to claim them. They are both variations on a common theme, of course."

The pause was pregnant with smiles.

"Of course," Eric said, happily claiming both the bladed spear and the nagamaki variant, both somehow being classified as the same exact weapon type by the system. "I don’t suppose there’s any chance I can get a couple of sparring variants...” the smith’s expression eased into an accommodating nod. “And maybe a second pair of these exquisitely honed beauties as well?”

The Smith’s nod froze into a hard stare, the background conversations noted for their sudden absence.

“Eric...” hissed Morlekai.

But Eric just smiled, holding the smith’s gaze.

“The deal is for two of my finest, which those are. And full sets of armor for all of you. The best damned armor you’ll find anywhere, which I think you’ll find a perfect fit, even if your Strength hits twenty.” The blacksmith flashed a hard smile. “And my partner and I are willing to invest the weeks it will take to forge those masterworks. You already know what we’ll be asking for in return.”

Eric winced but didn’t deny it, slowly dipping his head.

“You do understand, don’t you, Eric?” said Morlekai with a gentle squeeze of his shoulder.

“Sure I do,” Eric said. “He forges us sweet sets of scale mail that beat the crap out of any Dungeons and Delves set, and he keeps the remainder of that super tough lizard hide that will net him a fortune in the long run.”

The smith’s gaze hardened. “Damn right that’s the plan. I’m even including a pretty lizard-hide vest for our harvester friend. And if you think any other smith, anywhere, will put in anywhere near as much effort or use the supplies I’m going to, for you and your whole crew, without a fortune in gold or a hell of a lot more than the other half of this beast hide, you’re out of your damn mind.”

Eric nodded. “I don’t doubt you for a bit. And I hope you do net a fortune doing just that. Which is why I’m kinda surprised that, after making it clear you’re willing to spend weeks of effort on this venture for a huge payoff, that you’re now holding out on an extra pair of bardiches?”

The weaponsmith blinked, scowling as he rubbed his thick mustache.

Morlekai chuckled softly as the awkward tension slowly eased away. “When he puts it that way, John… you see how he moves, and he doesn’t even know what he’s doing with the damned things. It’ll be free advertising to show off your wares, down the road. You know it will.”

John smirked, a thoughtful look coming over his features, before at last giving a nod. “Best set of armor I can forge for all of you, a vest for our hunter friend, and not two but four of my best bardiches for your latest addition. In return, I get all claims on the lizard. We square?”

He held out a powerful hand to shake.

Eric smiled. “All claims on the remaining lizard hide. I’ll even throw in the bones, if you like. And yes. That sounds fair.”

The smith nodded, they shook, and it was done.

Congratulations! Negotiation is now Rank 4!