I Spy [[Weapons]]

[Sheari]

C'ryl had been feeling a bit on edge. The scuffle in the infirmary with his crude...whatever it was blade that he'd had...really opened his eyes to seeing that he needed to get himself some real weapons. Lesson learned, just because its convenient doesn't mean its reliable. He was lucky to get away with the bumps and bruises that he did, things could have been much worse.

Child had perched on his shoulder, choosing to remain closer to Her's since then. The green fire lizard had been visibly shaken and didn't go wandering as often as she once had. Pagoth especially noticed the new clinginess. Not being very fond of the little flier to begin with and just then warming up to her, she was slowly nibbling away at that warmth, taking to perching on him more often then not. Almost to the point that the brown felt weird without her sitting on him somewhere.

Oh, shut up, you don't even like her all that much. C'ryl looked over when the slight glint of light on metal caught his eye and he found the stall he'd been looking for. I think she's annoying and have since she hatched. I do, actually, enjoy her company. She is amusing.[/color] C'ryl resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he approached the stall. Weapons, blades of all sorts sat out, crafted to be sharp and reliable, just waiting for some careless person to bump the table and cut themselves.

C'ryl looked at the blades, ignoring the bows and crossbows that sat or hung nearby. He was after close-range weaponry. He eyed up a dirk. It looked nice and threatening, but he knew his weapons finesse wasn't good enough to wield it without hurting himself and it would be more of a hassle to carry around than a knife. In his has he'd had less maneuverability, too. The brownrider turned his attention to the knives. Those, he decided, would be the best starters if he was going to learn how to fight properly, instead of struggling on the spot.

[rii]

Chanomile tea. F'lix curled his hands around his purchase and smelled the packaged leaves and spices. The vendor had said it was the best choice (other than the Valerian one) to deal with stress. And as much as F'lix refused to acknowledge the ball of tension growing between his shoulders, he was indeed stressed out. A touch of cabin fever and a growing seed of doubt that his weyrmate was keeping something from him.. F'lix decided he needed to get out for a while – away from the weyr and around other people and... activity. F'lix had once sworn to never attend another gather after Lilitu's run, but..

The dark-haired rider kept to the edges of the path and he moved around to browse the other stalls. Hair pulled back – what little growth he had not managed to chop off in a fit – in a short runner tail. The shorter, choppy bits of straight black hair falling around his features. An annoyance, certainly, especially with the breeze coming in off the ocean. His gaze briefly snared on one of the food stalls, tempted by the wine, but he forced himself to move on. And, it was the smell and not the glimmer of metal, that caught F'lix's attention. Oils used when caring for a blade – something he knew well enough about considering his extensive collection.

Veering his course, F'lix stepped up alongside C'ryl to inspect the weapons on display. The smaller blades instantly drew F'lix attention. "These look like actual weapons," F'lix quietly commented to his present company. The bluerider clucked his tongue, glancing at the stall keepers in curiosity before shifted his golden eyes to the man, C'ryl, on his right. Slender, no taller than himself, F'lix examined him in a side long glance. Looked to be the knife sort..

"Familiar with your blades?"

[Sheari]

Hmm? The brownrider looked over to his left at F'lix. Sizing him up he returned his attention to that which was on the table. "Not particularly, no." He knew very little about blades, actually. He knew how to handle one when eating, but other than that, growing up he'd never had to use one. Knives and other blades were kept away from the runners, as they posed too big of a danger to them. One stray edge on the floor could seriously damage the hoof of one of the beasts. Only certain people were allowed a blade of any sort, and that had been his father, uncle, and any dragonrider or other important person.

He looked over the clean metal again, temped to pick one up and run his finger along the flat near the sharpened edge. Just how sharp were they? Would they cut open his finger? Also, just how would they stay on his person? C'ryl looked from the knives on display to the sheathes next to them. "So, any suggestions for a new knife owner?" To be honest, it was embarrassing to admit that he would lose in a knife fight. Child picked up on his embarrassment and sat on the man's head, chirping to draw attention to herself.

He was used to the fire lizard sitting in the spot she was now. It wasn't unusual for people to look at his "hat" in a weird way. It worked and the man allowed his gaze to travel along the table, waiting for either F'lix's response or the owner of the stall to show.

[rii]

Fortian. F'lix was good at detecting the accent quickly in only a few words. He still had yet to be able to pick out the individual holds and areas within Fort Territory – and quite honestly he didn't talk with enough people to ever hone that skill to real use. Not that it mattered, in the least, to F'lix where people originated from. Northern types just usually earned more interest from the former Bendenite..

Golden eyes flicked briefly to the firelizard, paying no more mind to the creature than the simple glance. Selenitas Weyr had made such things an typical sight, and his own black-green salamandyr often made the top of his head her favored roost. "Oh," There was a touch of disappointment in the single word – and a faint narrow of suspicion to his eyes as he glanced over C'ryl a second time. With northern origin came the pre-set mind to certain traits (Fort was full of liars.. ), and F'lix had to wonder for a moment if C'ryl was trying to toy with him – because what kind of northerner claimed they were a new knife owner?

"That depends," F'lix softly spoke while returning his attention to the knives as well. "On what you are planning on using a knife for. Hunting, skinning, defense.. " His hand made a vague brushing motion through the air to suggest the list went on.

[Requiem]

"Who were you planning on hunting down and skinning?"

The rumbling voice originated from a broad man (tall enough, really, but that wasn't as noticeable when faced with the wide sweep of his shoulders...not someone to get into a wrestling match with), leaning up against the table and watching the two suspiciously as he chewed on a tuber. Bipin was - busy - somewhere. He apparently was trying to close a deal with the Southern Lordholder, a deal that would have them providing for the armsmen every turn. It was big, but that meant Bhanu was left with the stall. How boring. None of these people knew a good piece of worksmanship when they saw it. He found these southerners so...tiresome.

A small sneer touched his lips. "You shouldn't be playing with a blade, kid, if you don't know how to use it," he told C'ryl gratingly. "Might get cut." How pathetic. How could a man grow up in the north without knowing how to use a belt knife if nothing else? He'd bet the kid couldn't ride a runner, either. Probably would perish in the hot Telgar summers - dry heat was different than this tropical humidity. "Though if you're dead set on killing yourself, any of these will do the trick." His jaw jutted toward F'lix, then. "And you?" His accent was strange...held a touch of Fort in it, but...something was off. "I doubt we have the particular knives your ilk is looking for." It was illegal to make skinning blades meant for human skin, in Telgar - which just meant they were made quietly. Of course, other blades would work, but it wasn't the same.

[Sheari]

C'ryl glanced at the look he received from the bluerider to his left and the man's gesture. Yes, the list did go on, he knew. A blade was good for more than the handful of things he had suggested.

"Mostly defense," replied C'ryl to F'lix.

He wasn't much of a hunter or skinner. Both skills he could learn later, once he was more comfortable with the knives. And hey, defense would aid in learning to hunt once he got to that point.

He turned his attention to the booth-tender when he spoke up. "If I don't play with them, how will I ever learn to use them?" he retorted. As for cutting himself, C'ryl was no stranger to injury, and honestly, in these times he almost wanted to dare the northerner to find him someone who was. Nevertheless, the brownrider turned his attention to the weapons again, tilting his head down. Child slid forward a little, clutching the hair of Her's. She too leaned forward to see the goods on display. So shiny!

Unfurling her wings, the green hopped down onto the table, being careful of the sharp edges. She inspected the work as if she knew what to look for in a good knife. She came to a dark-handled belt knife and sat down on the handle, chirping to let them know she had made her choice. Wait...what? C'ryl looked at her with a cockeyed expression. "I guess Child likes your work, however, I'm looking for two knives," he said. He looked to Bhanu, offering him the same words he had F'lix.

"Any suggestions?"

[rii]

"That also depends on how close you plan to let someone, or thing, get close before you defend yourself.." F'lix eyes pointedly lingered on the smaller, throwing knives before heading over to where the fire lizard sat on the belt knife, then over to the longer dirks. "And how much training you have.. because if you find yourself in close quarters and suddenly disarmed... "

Again he trailed off, letting the meaning with the words try to illustrate itself in C'ryl's mind. A blade was a focal point for attackers, and merely an extension of the arm in those more skilled. It was better to know how to know how to fight without a weapon rather than put faith in an item that could be easily removed from hand.

Attention wavering briefly to the stall vendor, F'lix head tilted faintly at the implication directed at him. "Oh, you mean to say all your blades are good for are to be mounted on a wall and look pretty?" He had not even been looking for a blade – a new thigh sheath would have been nice and F'lix rarely could walk away from a good weapons vendor without a new edged toy. Perhaps F'ur would like something new to play with? F'lix eyes skimmed over the various items on display but nothing really snagged his attention.

Absently, F'lix stretched out his hand to shoo the fire lizard off the merchandise.

[Requiem]

Bhanu answered neither dragonrider, instead staring pointedly at the winged snake on his beautiful pieces. Bad enough that southerners were smearing their paws all over it, but now he had to put up with pets, too? At least one of the children took the cue, and the journeyman nodded curtly to him, before wrinkling his nose at the more irritating of the twain. "Delighted. Maybe this...Child did you say?...will regale us some more with her excellent perception. That knife was done by our sister, and brought solely because we said we would. It'll break the first time it crosses hilts with anything that isn't mud. Though if you think her judgment more sound than a smith's, by all means, make that your choice. As I said, in your hands, they'll all get you killed ably."

His eyes flicked briefly to F'lix. "You twist my words. Purposely, perhaps. All of these are standard stock...utilitarian blades or straight fighting. Not made for interrogators or strike teams, little murderer," he concluded cheerfully. "Though I'm sure you've already noted that and simply feel the need to assert your supremacy as always. Can't fight dragons and fire, specially with Thread falling. How convenient for you. Don't even have to try since the Red Star returned, hm?" He sneered slightly. "One of these days the holds will decide enough is enough. Maybe not this decade or the next. Maybe well after you've gone Between. But one of these days..."

Then, as if he hadn't just snarled at F'lix at all, he turned back to C'ryl. "If you want my suggestion, kid, I'll give it. Long blades." He gestured to the array of dirks. "Don't go curved. Go double-edged. More distance you have between you and the man trying to kill you when you lose the blade, the better. Might get a few more steps before he stabs you in the back. Meanwhile, get someone like our pretty true northern dragonrider here to show you how to actually fight, and maybe next Gather you can get a smaller blade to add to your collection. Blades mean nothing in inexperienced hands, and fighting unarmed is the first step. But what do I know? I'm only a Telgar smith."