“Not much to look at, is it?” the young man scoffed at the blade, roughly made and without ornamentation.

“It’s serviceable is what it is,” corrected the merchant, “Blade on one side for slicing, teeth on the back for sawing, and a point on the tip if’n ya need to run a man through.”

“And a plain wood handle with no guard? It’s more like a machete than a sword.”

“So what if it is?”

“So, what sort of proper warrior runs around with a machete?”

The two men stood across the counter from one another both considering the sword, a weapon not much longer than a forearm. The dull blade caught little light. The handle could have used some polish. Nonetheless the point was sturdy, and the edge showed no signs of dulling. The weight felt manageable but still substantial.

“That,” the merchant said sternly, “is just what you want if you’re out and about in this wild world. It aint’ a showpiece fer impressin the girlies, and it ain’t for duelin. It’s fer gettin the job done, one way or the other.”