A Knife's Subtlety

by **Rosela** on November 26th, 2012, 1:27 pm

Timestamp: 36th of Fall, 512AV

It was a relatively warm day that found Rosela at the shop, sitting at the front desk with her knees up on the edge, sewing up a replacement wool scarf for the one she’d sold the other day. She was cutting off a few stray threads when she stopped and really looked at her sewing knife. It had a plain resin handle and a dull blade the length of her forefinger. The tip had been sharp when she bought it, but it was starting to dull after she used it to make thread holes in a leather-trimmed tunic the other day.

The night before, she’d come a little too close for comfort to a bad situation, and realized she had no real means of protecting herself. She’d known how to shoot a bow since childhood, but something like that wasn’t exactly useful just walking around on the street. She didn’t exactly carry it around with her, and had no desire to. It felt low class somehow, learning a weapon to defend herself rather than just to stay fit. Only the poor needed to bother with being assaulted on the street. If she were still wealthy, she could threaten punishment on her own, and have the mizas to back it up. Here, she’d have to find the law first, then ask it to protect her.

She took a couple experimental jabs with the knife, testing out the feel of it. She felt ridiculous, sitting at her desk, stabbing at air. Flipping the knife so it sat in her fingers correctly, for the task of cutting threads, she continued working down the edge of the scarf. What did it matter anyway, when she’d be rich soon enough? She could just hire a bodyguard to follow and protect her.

She wasn’t rich yet, and that was the kicker. She didn’t want to stop learning the art of seduction just because she was scared. Flipping the knife over again, she tilted it so the light ran along the blade. Desire…and respect. When she had a man’s heart, next was his mind, and the whole ‘coddle me, protect me’ bit only worked on certain kinds of men. For the rest, they should know she wouldn’t stand for anything untoward. An unwelcome hand feeling her up, then bam! She made a quick downward slice with the knife, suddenly very interested in the heft of it.

The sewing knife was too small though. It wouldn’t intimidate more than a child, and it didn’t match any of her outfits. Maybe she could get one she could hide in her brassier, like one of those Ravok assassins in stories she'd heard, or maybe in the thigh of her skirt.

Turning back to her work with a lifted heart, she tried to remember where in town one would buy such a blade.

by **Rosela** on November 28th, 2012, 9:42 pm

The Arma’Drex Smithy.

Rosela mouthed the words to herself as she looked up at the sign. She’d gotten luck in that they were open slightly longer than her own shop was, and she would have been quite put off if she’d run all the way over just to find it closed. It was a pretty plain building, but being Riverfall’s main supplier of weapons, Rosela figured she’d better just trust their reputation.

When she went to open the door however, it budged only an inch and stuck on the door frame, leaving Rosela to stumble awkwardly, holding onto the handle. Growling in frustration, she grabbed the handle with three hands, all that would fit, and heaved. There was a slow scrape and it finally crashed open, nearly sending her onto her rear. Jumping up before it closed again, she slipped inside with a huff. Having such a terribly fitted door seemed tantamount to having a bouncer at the door, tossing out the physically weaker. It was practically poor customer services.

Moving immediately to the left, towards the shiny blades, she caught the eye of the proprietor behind the counter. He put down the sword he was cleaning and came toward her with a smile, tucking the cleaning cloth into his pocket.

“Hello there miss, what can I get for you?”

Though she was still frustrated with the door, Rosela still put on a smile and clasped all six hands behind her back. “Hi, I’m just looking for a little dagger. Something I can keep on me.”

A look of concern crossed his features. “You’re not in any trouble now, are you?”

“No no, I’m fine, thanks. I just want a little something to protect myself with, just in case.”

“Oh good. Well then, daggers are over here…” He led her around a rack of swords and between two hanging sets of polearms to a smaller case, filled with daggers. Each was finely wrought, and there were a variety of handles. Licking her lips, Rosela leaned over them, wondering which would best match her outfits. It was a silly thought, she knew, because it would be hidden away, but she couldn’t help taking it into consideration.

“If you’re looking for something small that’ll still protect your hand, you might want to go with something with a crossguard, like this one,” he picked up one with a green and gold handle, with a long, thin crossguard. “It takes a little more room to hide it, but you can’t go wrong with one of these.”

Biting her lip, Rosela looked it over, not touching the small blade. It wasn’t very…stylish, and she thought of telling him so, but he seemed to read it on her face.

“Not your style, eh? Let’s see then…”

“I’m not really sure what it is I’m looking for,” she admitted, shrugging helplessly.

He touched his chin and seemed to study her for a moment.

by **Rosela** on November 28th, 2012, 10:13 pm

“Do you have any experience with a blade?” He asked, and though the question was not superior, Rosela felt a twinge of insult.

“I am an archer,” she said firmly, lifting her chin.

He nodded sagely, closing his eyes for a moment. “So you’re probably not looking for anything too complex, just something to defend yourself.”

“Yes, that sounds about right.”

Her voice was still stiff with pride, but she loosened immediately when he snapped his fingers and reached to the back of the case. The blade he pulled out was long and thin, with a small crossguard and a teardrop shape on the end of the handle. The end was pointed, but the sides didn’t look very sharp.

“This is called a stiletto. It’s not sharp on the sides, so there’s not much danger of cutting yourself. But this little tip here,” he held it up to the light for her to see. “Can be deadly with good aim and just enough pressure.”

“Ooo…” Rosela cooed, running a finger along the handle. “I like it.”

“The handle is black Nabato bone. Silver for the rest. Here, let me get the dummy down here and you can take a few test jabs.” Delicately handing her the blade, he moved quickly to the wall, where a rope was tied. Holding the stiletto securely in three hands, Rosela watched as a ragged dummy was slowly lowered into the center of the room. She and Haiduk met together at it, and he took the blade from her. “If you’re not aiming to kill, which I’m guessing you wouldn’t be? Anywhere you point will hurt, so long as you don’t hit armor.” Casually, he poked the dummy with the stiletto, where the fabric dented at first, then slid up the blade as it was punctured. “Here, you try.”

Rosela took it back tentatively, realizing for the first time that he held a weapon, a real weapon, in her hands. Blade clasped in her middle right hand, the rest of her hands retreated cautiously against her body and she extended it slowly toward the dummy. There was a small amount of resistance, and then a pop as the tip slid in. Withdrawing just as slowly, Rosela looked at it in wonder. She could really hurt someone with this. The bow was a different creature, hitting targets so far away that the damage wasn’t…real.

Memories danced at the end of her consciousness, and with a practiced mental switch, Rosela abruptly turned back to Haiduk. “How much?”

“Three gold mizas. And when the tip dulls, just bring it on back, and we’ll sharpen her up for you.” He smiled kindly, and Rosela suddenly realized how good looking he was. He was a bit quiet for her type, but he was well built and had the built toughness she’d come to appreciate in Akalak men.

“Why thank you. I don’t suppose…you could teach me how to use it?”

As soon as she said it, she realized it was too strong, and his smile immediately retreated behind a shy, awkward one. “I’m not really the one to go to for dagger training. Mizra Aqdas, over at the Kendoka Sasaran, he’s the one you’ll want to see.”

Abandoning the pheromones as a dead end, she smiled sweetly as she pulled the three mizas from her purse. “I’ll just do that then. Thanks for your help.”

Ledger :