13 gear up

Scratching his head, the wagon man stared at his cargo. There where some type of strange clothing, black and colorful at the same time, like one to be used by a circus performer, or maybe high ranking official from the army. Another box had strange a combination of springs, locks, moles,, tubes, thin metal tubes, strange shapes of mechanisms and other strange things.

The rest of the cargo was about normal, house supplies like food or bed wear. The simple carrier could only imagine why such different cargo had the same destination. Maybe an eccentric noble of some sort. When he arrived at the property gate, one servant dressed in colorful rags picked up the strange boxes, and one strong woman picked the rest, one trip only. They where probably a jester and bodyguard, respectively. The payment was previously arranged, but the wagon man still expected some answers as courtesy. He got none. Even when the bodyguard returned to pick a box loaded with clothing. That man told some unbelievable story that night to the other workers on the bar.

...

The gunslinger modally headed to the underground workshop they had. It was originally a reading room, with enough books to fill up a library. The place was under the floor to serve as a silence room, so the superficies sound could barely reach. About 2 hours in, the vigilant transformed it on a very sondy workshop, but give nobody any explication on what he was working on, he just grunted and told then to close the door on their way out.

The rest of the group gathered the stuff brought to then and stuffed it around. It became a true mess, but none of than was particularly organized, nobody really cared. Each bringing personal clothing to their room and just putting it wherever. After some time of sorting, they all gathered for one cold breakfast.

Nayla jumped on the food over the table, not really noticing it wasn't even prepared. Some cold bread( it was supposed to be baked for a fill minutes before consuming, but they would not care to do it) meat not even properly slashed, some fruits and whatnots. The other eat rather normally, but Nayla's attack on the food was one show to watch.

" according to the letter we received, one guide should lead us to one store, where we should supply and get whatever we need, about the lunch our" said Daija be twin bites. Everyone hummed an approval. Except for the gunslinger working on his strange workshop, no one had anything to do. Jaskal meditated on and explored the garden. D'kaji napped on the couch, receiving a sunbath from the window. Daija opened one of the wine bottles they received. And Nayla just wandered around, searching for thing to do.

Precisely when the sun was perfectly bettwing the mid day area, one knocking was heard on the door. As d'kaji opened the door, he saw one bald man wearing some formal, although practical, black clothing. The man bowed, showing all his skin on the head, and said elegantly:

" If on your demands of time, I would like to take you to your gear, sir"

The catman looked confused at the stance of the man, but shoved it of as some strange city costume. He properly responded:" D'kaji is ready, lets go" and started to walk outside. The servant looked confused and said:" what about your companions?"

" oohhh, so you didn't meant d'kaji only, it meant everyone" he face palmed and gave a small laugh" you should have one different word for only one person you and many people you".

"I guess..." responded the poor confused man, wandering if it was some kind of joke.

"That is, yours would be very weird indeed, d'kaji things another new word should exist." The catman started to rub his chin" maybe bald man should just say all the names instead of just you"

Staring blankly, the guide responded just"I suppose"

"So, do it"

" But I don't know your names, or better, your sir names"

"Sir... what?"

" The second or third word on your names"

" ohhh, so... I am kaji"

"Sir... kaji?"

" I liked how that sounded, d'kaji could get used to it"

As Daija arrived at the door to see why it was taking so long, she saw d'kaji sitting cross legged on the grass, with a wondering gaze, and the servant that looked about to cry.

" We are ready to go, what took you so long"

The servant responded:" You, you took me so long to figure out"

"What I have to do with it" she said

"Not Daija, you"

I guess I will never understand this people, Daija decided to remain silent and let it go.

...

The swinging wooden sign read:" alberch's armory and weapon smith". It was suspended on a metal support sticking out of the wall of a 3 floor fine building. Next to it, a pair of stairs leaded to the second floor from the outside. The first floor was made entirely of stone, with small, although long open windows on the end of that floor, probably an air vent, as the ground level was probably where the metal was transformed on armor and weaponry. The second floor was the store itself.

On top of the stairs, one bulk wooden door. Outside of working ours, it remained looked, but to prevent any sort of break in, it needed to be strong and thick. That time, it was fully opened, revealing the interior of the shop. Expertly crafted weapons, armor, tools and general equipment was scatters around, carefully put to show the best parts of each pice, their metal shining. The structure was made from solid stone, but the walls where from wood, and one carpet spred around the floor. There were no other costumers, and 2 assistants were posted on the shop, and a cashier behind then on its station. There was also one balcony from the third floor, where the smith probably lived with his family.

Safe to say, the party was pretty interested om everything om the shop. D'kaji stared at his reflexing on one shinny shield, checking the piece with one ponderous face. Jaskal stared at some maces, Daija looked about to date one brutal and heavy looking longsword and the gunslinger analyzed some darts and throwing knifes.

Still numb from the interaction some minutes before, their guide said on a monotone:" the govern will take care of the expenses, take what you like". And event trying to hide it, the bunch looked pretty exited to hear it. The only exception was Nayla, she wasn't paying attention on any of the works, she just decided to explore. Her tinny stature let her pass the workers without been seen, into the back of the shop. On that room there where only storage boxes and products, but there was one stair leading to the upper floor. She started to go up on it.

Midway into it, she started to hear giggling and whispers. It sounded... familiar. Arriving at the end, she faced one door, similar to the shops entrance. It was one place the owner kept very well protected, it probably held something very valuable. Still hearing the sound inside, she put her eye on the keyhole. It was difficult to see inside, but she managed to understand to figures sitting on the ground, using some strange tools and whispering. Nayla didn't understand why, but it looked so familiar...

... her dool served one cup of tea into Gabriella's table. Her tiny hands controlled the even tinnier body made from leather and some spare clothing, stuffed with cotton. After the tea party, both her and Gabriella's doll had one dance , to practice for the ballet festival...

Filled by this strange memory, Nayla tried to open the door, but it was locked. On the silence of her minds she pleads help, and, as always she needs it, something responds. Felling something spread for her fingertips into the keyhole, she let scape an involuntary moan. She could sense the springs, locks, and other metal parts that kept the door shut, and she understood that it was to complicated to simply force open. She would need to break it

On one simple and concentrated magical pull, the in works of the lock broke, with a metallic clank. Some of the parts felled down on the floor, and the remaining force opened the door. As the room slowly got revealed, Nayla identified some sort of living room, with 2 couched and some puffs close to a brick campfire. The wood rested on a stone floor, and didn't share the same shaft as the furnace down bellow, as it would infest the house with the smell of iron and smoke. There were also a couple of paintings and some bools on a shelf, followed by a small table with two stalls around it. It was the house of the smith, build over the store to save both space, concern and on security.

On the middle of the room, two small girls played with dolls, pretending to be nobles on their fantasy. They both stared at Nayla, their mouths wide open, and frozen in place for their scare. Footsteps could be heard from a corridor as a 50 years old woman with brown and white hair stormed the room, probably concerned for the kids. As she realized there was no harm made to then, she followed their gaze, and saw Nayla. As her heartbeat slowly got normalized from the jump scare of the lock breaking, she started to speak:

: "Who are you honey? Are your parents down there? Are you lost?"

Before Nayla could respond, another voice on her back did that for her:" she is with us, sorry for the botter". Aa Nayla turns around, she sees the vigilant on his ruined robes behind her. It's hard not to jumps care, as his rags pend around, and he looks like one undead man, ready to reap some souls and scary kids

: Grabbing her arm, the gunslinger leads the girl down the stairs. She immediately starts to wiggle and fight back, trying to stop him: "they are playing up there, I wanna play"

" You can't play anymore Nayla" said the gunslinger, starting to lose his temper, after all, he was the only one to hear the noise, but he didn't wanted to be a babysitter.

" I am a kid, and kids play" said Nayla. She remembered that sentence from somewhere, but could not recall from where.

"You are no kid anymore, you... you..." suddenly, the vigilant stopped both talking and walking. They where on the base of the stairs, and the woman was spying on then by the open door, but that didn't bothered him. What stopped him wasn't there at the room, what stopped him was a memory. One memory engraved on his mind repeating before his eyes. Deja vu, some say. Repeating the words once told to him, he said, hesitantly:

"You are no kid anymore. You are a soldier, barely more than a toll. You know why? Because we need one, not a kid"

: Letting go of her arm, the vigilant rest his back on the wall." Go met the others, they are sorting something for you" he said, like he was dazzled by his memories. 12 years past. Those were quite old, he thought. He rubbed his palms on his face, as to wash of those fallings. Nayla was waiting by the door, and together, they returned to the shop to get their gear.

: ...

"Clothes to warm"

"It is to protect you"

" still warm"

"Don't you come from a desert"

" do. But, clothes warmer"

" It is armor"

" Its heavy"

"Its leather made, its supposed to be light"

"See, leather is warm"

The shopkeeper and d'kaji were arguing over the armor to wear. The one he was testing was a kind of leather armor revested with light plates on the chest, tick cloths on the moving parts as knees and neck, and some chain mail on the arms and legs. Masters work, but not the type to suit the catman. The vigilant on the other hand, had just spotted another to his fellow. One much more like his style.

...

: Pure black leather. Polished and beaten to retain the texture, with a tiny mail inside the fabric to give additional protection From light cuts, such as daggers and darts. It wouldn't protect against a direct hit by a sword or an arrow, even less from a bullet, but with indirect attacks and depending the angle, it would minimize the damage, even negate it. The suit also had many pouches, two on the back, one on each upper leg, a belt with 8 spaces for darts and 4 knifes on the hips. And 4 more dart spaces on the shoulders. A special place on the lower part of the back could hold, with small adjustments, the two long and curvy knifes that the catman chose for his prefers weapons, as well as knifes and darts to fill all the spaces. Usually there would be an additional knife on a false structure on the shoe, but d'kaji preferred to use no shoe, or claw blockers, as he called it. He also filled the pouches with useful(and weird) little trinkets, like small steel balls, mirrors, lock picks, little bombs, a rope... anything he could need. He dismissed the helmet as well. "D'kaji prefers to be free". He could not smile properly by his animal like face, but he demonstrated happiness any other way he could, like jumping and climbing. He adored the new gear

After that, they suited Nayla. A simple and light chain drees, thighned by leather strips and over that leather to cover. It was kind of heavy, but she didn't need to be fast. She also got a dagger. The shopkeepers were astonished to sell to a tiny girl, and claimed to need 2 days to finish both her and d'kaji gear.

: Jaskal chose only one scimitar as weapon, and no other clothing or amour, as his tough skin and even tougher shell would be enough to protect, he claimed. But he did ordered some quimical components and whatnots to use on his magistrates.

Daija opted for heavy plate armor on the chest and back, with hard leather on the neck, knees and elbow's. The rest had leather with plates inside, and a mail under it. She used it with some iron down shoes, but no helmet, ignoring the smiths advice. "never needed one" she said. Her armor was really heavy, any other on the group could use it effectively, but she used it as it was just plain normal clothing, barreling woring her. For the weapons she chose one small sword and 2 long ones to dual hand.

" I am sorry, but these are supposed to be used as a two handed weapon" said the vendor

" I know. But..." taking one on each hand, she performed a fast and impressive sequence of movements.

That smith was om that line of work for about 30 years, and have seen many impressive presentations, but only a few got on that level. She made 7 cuts around her, as if she was fighting various enemies, and took about 3 to 4 seconds for it to finish. The 1.50 meters blades cut the air so fast to make the musical sound of iron o the air, as a Sol note on a violin. Normally using it at such speed would make it vibrate for the contact to the air, and I would vibrate for some seconds after, but. a combination of both her skill to steady the blade and the sword quality made it perfectly steady as she stopped on a resting position on the end, both weapons facing down. Everyone stared, even the cocky gunslinger had it impressive, gasping by the end. The smith slowly stepped up to her, bowing his head and saying:" Forgive me for my words before. I knew not of your skills. I take it all back"

"I forgive you" said Daija, with a smirk. She could be rock and cold on most occasions, but she did melt on a well meant complement. She also gained everything she needed to take care of the blades, such as oil and a sharping stone.

…

" I don't... get it..."

Said the shopkeeper, hesitantly. He stared at a complicated drawing, a schech to be precise. It was quite well draw, but it was really confusing. It had multiple layers of barely see thru paper, to show the inside and out parts of... whatever that was. The smith was always a straight forward man, and that was just to much entangled for him.

Annoyed, the gunslinger re explained, several times, how the sceches were suposed to work. It wasn't that complicated, he thought, I made it in a hurry, but it should be useable. After everyone had already geared up or ordered their gear and was preparing to leave, the gunslinger was finally satisfied by the smith, and let it go.

"I will take more than a weak to finish it, but a can make a simpler version to you if you like..." said a burned out smith.

" Don't you worry, honest worker. I can handle myself until it arrives." Said the gunslinger, making a salute to him, and then elegantly leaving the shop after his companions

...

The point of the small sword pen made a small, almost impossible to recognize sound. Usually Anclave finds the sound to be calming and relaxing, but now it couldn't be further from the true. Checking again the calculations, he signed and passed his hands over his hair. Supposedly, he should redirect small portions of the budget of many areas into the secret project. They shouldn't spend as much royals, in fact, they spent about 4 times what was expected. He taped the table, anxiously, and redirected from the sewer trapping budget. After all, they should have new people to clear the sewer from those infestation with those new guild program the crown just creates. He found a way, just as the high consil expected. He always did.

" But only the gods know where is this money being spent"