34-Spring-514
The steps of the sergeant were heavy indeed. The blade strapped to his waist hung loosely in its scabbard and it swung slightly from side to side as he walked. He wore plain clothes today, only a regular set. None of the cumbersome armour covered his body. Only cotton. Blue cotton blouse and a matching pair of pants. The weapon by his side was the only weapon he carried today. Though still he seemed burdened. Encumbered by something as he tentatively walked through the city of peace.For the business of the day was something he had not looked forward to. For almost a decade, the blade that so playfully swayed behind him as he walked had been his faithful ally and companion in the battle for civilization. For peace. But today. It was time to change that. Replace the old with the new. It had not been an easy decision, but the pragmatic in him had won over the emotional side. But he would keep the blade, of course, it would be mounted on his wall. Proudly displayed and a reminder of the many glorious battles it had partaken in.
Then why do I feel so horrible about replacing it? It is only an item!
Markus sighed as he stepped through the doors into the Ironworks. He rarely entered the place. His equipment was mostly from the knights, borrowed. But he did not want a second grade sword. If he was to replace the Bastard, it would have to be with a worthy blade. There was an Isur in these parts, someone capable of crafting blades worthy of masters. He would need to find this Isur, see if he might impart some of his time, sweat and soul into forging him a new blade. Where to find the man, however, was a different matter altogether. Markus found someone, a human man, boy would be more correct, in his late teens, carrying what appeared to be a slab of iron. He did not know the purpose for the iron and he didn't particularly care. He approached the man with a polite smile on his lips.
"Hello, sorry to disturb, but I am seeking Ros Vizerian. Have you seen him around?"