milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Arithon, badge visible because as far as he knows he's on tonight, enters the bar and finds a seat at Bar herself. This only means that when he's informed what he'll be eating by Tashka it is a bit faster than normal, as instead of chittering and returning with food, Bar serves the meal.

That's right. His life is run by a rat.

So there is a bemused Master of Shadows looking at a bowl of soup, mug of ale, and plate of dark bread.

((My computer is trying to explode. I'm not ignoring you. Comments are going in odd places, but really. I'm not ignoring you.))

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"Of the same world?"

He sounds amused and resigned,

"I am pleased to meet you. What weapons do you know? For, regardless of Sorcery or wizardry, it is always good to have a physical threat when one is..."

He's attempting to find a polite way to say "short or skinny enough to look like a child". He being short, Ron being skinny.

"--not threatening at all?" Ron offered, a feeble half-grin on his face.

"I'm good with knives--really good with knives," he said, "but they wouldn't really do. Faith did have me have a go with her swords for a bit. I've a bit of a knack for it, she said."

He was good at anticipating his opponent's moves before they did them. It was a bit like chess, after all. Only more instinctual, which Ron also did quite well.

He waves at his five-foot-two-inch, skinny form. He's not all that intimidating himself, until you realize he's older than he looks.

And then if you look into his eyes, the hard, dangerous face fades away again. Arithon's eyes are like Death's would be, did she have green ones.

"We can get you a sword, if Jiask thinks you have a talent."

He's assuming that "a bit of a knack" means "a talent",

"I am not a Slayer, not so fast nor so strong, but I think I could give you the continuing of a basic education. If, that is, you wish one. As well, a large enough knife..."

He was pretty frightening, Ron thought.

"That would be brilliant, thanks. And yeah, I'm from the same world as Tom and Tonks."

Sort of.

Closer than Arithon,

"Then I tell you ahead of times, my magics are not as yours. I can teach some of them, but not all, and do not learn yours with ease."

Ron doesn't know him very well. There are reasons Arithon has his very own Oathbound sociopath.

"What kind of sword do you need?"

"That's fine. There's plenty that could help me with my sort of magic--learning other types of magic would be really useful," said the young man eagerly. "Faith had me using a light broadsward. Two-hander, but she was just trying to get my arms stronger for a slightly lighter sword, I reckon."

He nods, and considers things for a bit,

"A bastard sword, I think, to carry about. As well, I would suggest offering to assist carrying things about in the stables. If the Bar needed wood chopped, it is a good way to build muscle."

The only thing Arithon has that can be even vaguely called a "braodsword" is Alithiel.

And he's not letting Ron use the magic sword.

But it's so shiny!

You could trust Ron with a magic sword!

"So adding onto Faith's five-mile runs then, yeah?" Ron asked, though he didn't sound disappointed about it. He wasn't looking forward to it, sure, but if it meant he got to be on the team, all on his own...

Canon is not entirely clear why, but in general it is a Very Bad Idea for non-s'Ffalenn to try to deal with this particular magic sword.

"The runs are for endurance. You also need to build other muscle."

He holds out an arm, and flexes. Despite the fact that he still looks like he's got the body of a teenager, despite the fact that he's skinny and slight and could almost pass as a child, and despite the silk of his shirt his arm is corded with muscle,

"You are old, to begin, but Tom is older and does quite well."

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