• have properly heard of one. And rumors of another. We have wyverns but.." Shoulders lifting in a plaintive shrug, drawing upon the memories of the titanic drake that haunted Lothiric's High Wall. "They aren't nearly as friendly as your companion." Finishing, the •
-- word to memory. He then perked up as she elaborated on her supposed quest. "Show his lady flame?" He repeated, confused. "Shouldn't be too hard. You already have a fire." He chuckled to himself, nodding to her small campfire. A dull joke. The dragon-rider then --
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-- grinned, reaching into his saddle and pulling out what appeared to be a sword hilt— although, with no blade. The hilt had two dragonheads of steel on either end. "Speaking of fire—" Pressing in a button, a shiny silver blade shot out one end of the hilt with a 'shink!' --
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-- and then, an instant after, the blade set alight with a deep, orange flame. The viking beamed, always itching to show off his inventions.
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"Oh, if only it was so easy." Anri demurred with a shake of her head, and a half-hearted chuckle. The joke was not exactly the best, but it was well appreciated. The unveiling of such an intricately designed blade, now captured her full interest. Her world held many •
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• oddities -- weapons imbued with abyssal energy, others which drained away the very life essence the user. And in her case, a sword that channeled luck. Arm now extended forth, a silent question being asked; to take a closer look at the unique sword.
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He grinned, pressing the button once more and allowing the blade to collapse and slide back within the hilt itself— wouldn't want to accidentally burn her when passing it over. He leaned forward, allowing her to grab the unique weapon— it was remarkably light for a sword.
End of conversation
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