My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts
70th of Fall, 514.
There were some times when the Pycon needed something.. well, more. True enough, he'd bought himself a Py-whip and a Py-string from the market and he'd begun integrating them both into his training.. of course, there was little objection or even opinion on the matter given by Ser Iros. Even he knew that he had little place in this argument, since this was not a subject that he could speak of. He was not a Pycon, so how could he advise one in which weapons would best suit his style, or teach him how to use any? If anything, he was severely limited and both he and Archailist knew it. All he knew was how to use the spear and how to use a shield. Two weapons that were utterly useless to a clay figure barely six inches tall and with a massive tail.
All of the weapons were progressing well. Some he worked with better than others, but he adjusted to suit his needs. Soon, he'd be able to work with all of them when he needed to. However, none of them felt.. for lack of a better word, dangerous. The Py-Pole was powerful when it came to catapulting him across battlefields and knocking people off their feet, but apart from that, it was a blunt weapon with the only sharpened edge being at the tip, which came in more use when stuck into the ground and used for purchase. The Py-Whip was similarly blunt and useless when it came to trying to attack people in armour. It could, again, knock them from their feet and practically toss them around when enough weight was put into it. He'd seen Hammer Fist hold such control over it that she could practically disarm someone by looping it around their wrist and applying enough of a sudden force to have it rip a weapon from their hands.
The Py-String was, by and large, the most dangerous of all weapons, and yet it was only a piece of string. Nothing more, nothing less, than a thin piece of string used to occasionally cut people and little else. No, he was to become a knight eventually. He needed a weapon that proved it.. something that was powerful, bold, and deadly. Something that could deal actual damage when used, and not simply whack against peoples ankles and shins to give them bruises. He could gain better results when he used his own two feet, after all. He needed something that could prove much more useful when competing against plate-mail and hardened warriors.
He needed a sword. A proper sword, something that he could stab into someone, to make them bleed. Something narrow and light, easy to maneuver. He always liked the look of that rapier that he'd seen the Eypharian holding. It wasn't very useful in his hands - it was too large and clumsy, thrusting away at the ground and never with success. It was faster than those larger long-swords that others carried though, and lighter than the ten-foot spears that Ser Iros used. Yes, one of those.
He'd set off from the Squire Dormitories only a short distance towards the Ironworks, in order to try and find someone to commission the work from. He didn't really know how much it could possibly cost - Pycon-sized clothes and other things were extortionately expensive, even compared to humans, which Arch often found ridiculous considering the amount of materials that they took up each. Just in case, he had about 100 Miza's with him, clacking noisily against his side as he walked. Of course there were a few odd glances but nothing more. Even if they were eyeing his pouch, he dared one of them to make a grab. He'd be standing triumphantly on their chests before they'd have time to close their greedy fingers on it.
