The Sword Saint Also Has A Succubus Class

After taking care of Suzi's firewood problem, the two of them headed into town. It was a short walk, so though Suzi had made the trip once today, she wasn't bothered to do so again. Especially when their goal was important to Silverdale as a whole.

Silverdale had a single smith, and his daily trade was small local business: a blacksmith of horseshoes and farming tools more than blades of war. Nevertheless, if there were a place to find a sword for Vale to borrow—or perhaps buy, if she could find means of making money—it would be at Ganrik's blacksmithing shop.

It was well past midday by now, though not evening yet, so he was still at work pounding horseshoes into shape. He was a well-built man, a bit on the shorter side, which made Vale taller than him. She was tall for a woman, but not so much so it was odd to find a man who could look down on her. He came up to about her nose, though was much wider: in waist, chest, arms, legs, as was to be expected from a man who had made it his livelihood to beat metal into compliance.

He had short dark hair and a beard, and was an attractive man in a gruff, older way: not that Vale found men attractive, but that didn't mean she couldn't see the appeal, theoretically speaking. He looked up mid-swing as the two of them came into view, his gaze pausing on Vale especially—and not just because of her unfamiliarity, she was certain, but her ears and tail. Animara weren't common in this part of the world, Vale had deduced, and especially not in a small town on the edges of the Kingdom.

“Be with you in a second,” he said gruffly.

“Hi Gan!”

“Miss Suzi,” he said. "Nice to see you, as always."

Ganrik finished up what he was doing and walked over to them, peeling off his gloves and crossing his arms.

“Haven't seen you before, Miss,” he said. “New in town?”

“I am,” Vale said. She introduced herself, and finished with a, “It's nice to meet you.”

“You a friend of Suzi's?”

Vale paused.

“I'm just helping her out,” Suzi said on her behalf. “She's in a bit of a situation, it's a long story.”

“Alright,” Ganrik said, not seeming particularly interested. Not out of impoliteness but simply because he didn't care, as perhaps fitting a working man. “How can I help you two girls?”

“We need a sword,” Suzi said.

“A sword?” The request obviously wasn't what he'd expected. “Last I heard, there isn't much use a [Witch] has for a sword.”

“You don't know that,” Suzi said cheerfully.

“So I assume it's you asking,” he finished, attention turning to Vale. “You know how to handle a blade?”

His dark iron eyes ran up and down Vale, once, seeming unimpressed.

She had a lean build, and muscles of a wiry sort, but her current outfit showed little of them, and her figure was curvier and her face softer than what many commoners would associate with strength, she knew. Of course, Vale had seen women with porcelain faces and arms like twigs who could crack boulders like eggshells, so she knew better than to assume anything. But for everyday men and women, associating physical looks with certain traits was common. And women were perceived as the gentler sex. Vale didn't necessarily take offense: he was simply ignorant in his own ways, as everyone was.

“Yes,” Vale said. “I do.”

“You're looking awfully doubtful, Gan,” Suzi said, amused. “I found this one in the Caelvarn Forest killing monsters with a stick. And she has a Bestowal.”

Ganrik stirred in place, sending Suzi a glance of surprise.

“A stick?”

“Stabbed a [Crooked Elk] through the throat, and looked bored while doing it,” Suzi said, a bit gleefully.

Ganrik turned back to Vale with an entirely new mix of expressions: wariness, an apology, and kindled interest.

“I'm not sure I’m carrying any weapons a Bestowed would find suitable,” he said.

“The alternative is a stick,” Suzi joked. “So anything works. We just need a loaner since she lost her own.”

“A loan?” Ganrik asked, seeming not very enthused by the idea. He'd assumed he'd be making a sale, perhaps.

“She wants to help hunt down whatever's putting people to sleep,” Suzi said, and that clarification again had Ganrik's demeanor shifting.

“Is that right?” he asked.

Val nodded.

“There's a quest for it and everything,” Suzi said. “So we know it's really a monster. The heavens dropped her here for us, or something.”

That was an amusingly ironic statement, seeing how Vale had literally been flung here by a goddess.

Though whether Lust had done that with any particular motive, she had no idea. It wasn't like bumping into a young woman and a small village having some monster problems was a major coincidence. Lust might have thrown her here without a goal in mind, merely thrusting her into the world to start her adventure as a newly-minted succubus.

“A quest,” Ganrik repeated. He looked at Vale in an even newer light, and the last of his doubt had disappeared. “Well,” he said after a moment. “Daniel’s boy is affected, so what sort of man would I be if I didn't lend a hand?” He nodded. “Give me a moment.” He left to the back of his workshop.

“Ganrik's a good guy,” Suzi said. More quietly, as to be subtle, “Just a bit old fashioned. He's always hinting that I need to find a man and settle down. I'm only twenty, you know.” She sighed. “Still, he's a good one, if a bit clueless. He's gotta be one of the last people in town that hasn't realized it'd be a girl I'd settle down with, if anyone.”

That piece of information was way more distracting than Suzi had probably thought it would be, considering the casualness she'd said it, and worse, Vale wasn't given an opportunity to respond before Ganrik was returning, a blade in hand. Even as he spoke though, Vale's head was spinning. Suzi preferred women?

"It's not my finest work," Ganrik admitted. "I've no extensive experience in forging swords. But it has a sharp edge and I was told by a man who knew how to handle them the balance was fair." He offered it to Vale. "Heavens guiding, it'll serve you well on your hunt."

Vale took the blade. Her grip wrapped around the hilt, and she slid her other hand's palm across the bottom face of the sword. Embarrassingly, a shiver went through her that she couldn't repress.

Just like that, everything was right in the world.

Which was a dramatic thought to have, but there was some truth in it. Vale had dedicated a good portion of her life training with this weapon, and a sword was as much a part of her as her arm—or her heart. There had been an undercurrent of anxiety that hadn't left her since waking without one strapped to her side.

The sword itself was of plain and simple make. The style reminded her of the Western Empires, though it was possible no such Empires existed anymore. The blade was made of steel and was approximately two and a half feet long, three feet and some total with the hilt. It weighed around two and a half pounds and had a fuller, a groove running through the center of the blade to reduce weight while keeping integrity, as well as a straight crossguard. It had a leather grip and a small pommel. Overall, it was nothing special. Nor was it a style of sword she would have wielded had she had a choice in the matter: she preferred the lighter and thinner, slightly curved blades that were the style of her own Empire.

But it was a sword. In her hand. And so the Sword Saint's disciple smiled.

“It's wonderful,” Vale said. “I can see the love that went into its creation. It'll serve me well.”

Complimenting the man's work was apparently how to fluster the gruff blacksmith. He cleared his throat and nodded in appreciation.

“You'll need to tell me how it handles,” he said. “Honest, now, too. A man can't improve without knowing where his work went wrong.”

“I will, once I acquaint myself.” She was turning the blade side to side in front of her face, still inspecting it while she spoke, forgetting her manners and speaking to him without making eye contact. It really was such a beautiful thing.

“I think she might kiss it,” Suzi whispered.

Vale twitched, then blushed, lowering the sword and returning her attention to her company.

“You're trained, then?” Ganrik asked.

“Six years, formally,” Vale said. “Many years before that, less so.” As in, a childhood obsession where she'd fumbled around with anything blade-shaped she could get her hands on.

“By another Bestowed?”

Vale considered. “There were few of his skill,” she said, as to not lie.

Across the entire world, for that matter. Master Northstar had not been the strongest of the Sword Saints, but some would argue he had the highest mastery over the blade. Unfortunately, skill withered in face of raw power. Master had been no Immortal.

“Would I know him?”

“You would not.” Perhaps if Ganrik had been alive however many centuries ago, then he might have.

Ganrik nodded. “Might I ask,” he started, somewhat hesitantly. “If I could see you use it?”

Vale tilted her head. “In what way?”

“Erik knows how to fight, doesn't he?” Suzi chirped. “I bet he'd love to go up against a fighter Bestowed. And it'd let her show off.”

“I would not ‘show off’,” Vale said. “A sword is a tool for killing, not pageantry.” One of Master's sayings.

“Aw, not even for me?” Suzi asked.

For some reason, Vale hesitated for much longer than she should have, even knowing Suzi was joking.

Suzi grinned. “It's fine, you'll show off just by doing your thing.” She turned to Ganrik. “I'll go track down Erik and come back,” she said. "And you can see it in use."

“Best find Daniel as well,” he said. “He'll need to know about this Quest of yours.”

“He's the town leader, unofficially,” Suzi explained to Vale. “And yeah, you should meet him, if you're planning on staying any amount of time. Much less if you're planning on helping out with this.”

“Alright,” Vale said.

She didn't especially want to fight some youth from this village to put on a show, but perhaps Ganrik wanted proof that Vale was who she said she was; or at least not some vagrant lying through her teeth. Forged steel wasn't cheap for a commoner of a small village, and he was all but throwing it away in hopes a stranger brought it back.

Wrapping around her waist the accompanying belt and sheath Ganrik had brought, and sliding the sword in, Vale said, "Lead the way."