As the demons struck at the walls, Sam was busy making their way towards the upper city.
Most of the people had fled in the direction of the docks, so they were relatively unimpeded until they got to the gate itself.
They could only "tsk" as they watched the small riot playing out, panicked city-folk against the guards that would have been better serving elsewhere.
These were the folk who either had no place to shelter, or who thought that they would be safer higher up in the city, as opposed to simply having fewer options to escape that didn’t involve jumping off a literal cliff into the lake.
They touched their swelling belly through the cloth, silencing their own negative thoughts. The fox girl, Kordia, had told Sam to stay away from stress as much as possible, and so they used the breathing technique she’d showed them every ti she started to feel stress. That had happened a lot today. Especially when the demons started dropping flaming pots on the rooftops.
At first they thought the magic of the shop would protect them. But when smoke had started filling it from the buildings it had been crowded against, they’d been forced to escape and move away from the fires as much as possible.
Now they were near a crowded gate, watching as the guards shoved the crowd around with their shields and halberds.
They were about to turn and head for the docks when a set of shadows drew their eyes upward.
A trio of street urchins were crossing from the roof of the three-story building next to them to the wall, using a rope that was secured to a large board they’d managed to snag on a crenelation.
And the guards had already noticed and were moving toward them.
Internally swearing, Sam kicked in the door and ran up the stairs as quickly as they could. From the third floor, it was then a matter of kicking out the balcony window and climbing until they were on the roof.
The guards seed at the ready to cut the rope, waiting for the last kid to climb off.
They took a mont to inhale a long breath as they steadied their mind, focusing on the rope as one of the guards finally noticed and pointed at them.
One foot in front of the other. I can do this...
Taking off at a sprint, Sam’s boot contacted the rope as they ran across it. One of the guards was lowering their halberd to cut the rope, but Sam kept their eyes only on the thin line that would help them live.
The halberd lowered, they jumped, over the clambering child who was being helped by a guard and stepping off the back of the battlent. They hadn’t known what would be on the other side and, fortunately, it was the top of a two-story business.
Landing with a roll, they continued into their run, and only a half-hearted shard of ice landed behind them as a mage took the shot without thinking.
Two short hops later, Sam was safe in the alley between the smithy and its neighbor.
Their heart was racing. And yet another sound quickly overtook it.
The steady tang and plunk of a smith’s hamr, as the middle-aged man worked a white-hot length of so tal that they realized...
"Not steel..."
The smith looked up. "You have a good eye," he chuckled. "This weapon is at a critical point. If I do not temper it properly, it will not take form."
A surreal sense overtook Sam as they approached.
"You... made blue... the sword..."
The smith raised an eyebrow. "Such colors are more commonly the result of an enchanters whim. My blades are silver and grey, as they should be when new."
Sam shook their head. It was always difficult suppressing their maven expression to speak, especially when they were as stressed as they were now. They forced it hard as possible to get out a three-syllable na. "Kange..." "Kangetsu!" "You made... her..."
The smith paused mid-hamr beat, looking at Sam. "You know Kangetsu? That ans you are a friend of Kir... or an enemy?" The shadow of a passing demon gave the man a suddenly sinister appearance, enhanced by the glow of his forge.
"Friend! Friend!" Sam said, raising their hands.
"You are pregnant... His?" The smith resud their work.
"No..." They stepped opposite the smith at the anvil. "I need... help to... stay safe... Weapons..."
"Hm," the smith sounded. "There isn’t a place safer than here, near the center and the wall, and far from anything important."
A winged demon, sporting several bolts and a scorch-mark from a spell, suddenly struck the roof above the shop door, landing with a aty crunch. The smith regarded the fall with no more care than noticing the rain.
"Perhaps you could earn your blades. I would very much like to not be interrupted in my work, and all my apprentices have sheltered or fled. You have the look of a warrior, are you for hire?"
Sam looked around, then nodded.
"Very good. You can keep whichever one or two blades that suit you. If they happen to not be steel..." He shrugged. "Perhaps Kangetsu’s little sisters will choose you."
He returned to humming a forge tune as Sam worked their way into the smithy.
None of the weapons were labeled with prices. They weren’t very good with manasight, so when they tried it so of the weapons flickered with echoes of magic, most centered around the spell circles stamped into them.
They frowned as they realized they didn’t know what spells the blades had. Knowing a weapon’s spell runes was important when empowering them, as not-knowing them could at best render the effect inactive, and at worst cause a weapon to lose its integrity, lt, or explode.
Their manasight lasted only a few seconds before they lost it. And so they relied on mory to search amongst the many swords for sothing that suited them, hoping that the smith could tell them what the enchantnts were.
But wait... The smith had said Kangetsu had sisters...
Sisters... that might an... matching weapons!
They started their search over, with an eye toward which blades seed a match for each other.
The grains were all the sa, and even the finest weapons which held ripple or wave or dragonhide lines all seed to be steel to their eyes.
"Warrior! You are needed at the front!" the smith suddenly shouted.
Sam panicked. They looked at the blades once more, trying hard to find two that-
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