un: forgery; (posted 5-10).

[misclassed]

This is Muramasa.

Just before we left last month, I was given leave to keep a smithy on the premises of the base in Kyoto. It's functional now, so the lot of you using blades from our employer need to come have a proper edge put on them. Don't dawdle: you're embarrassing me, walking around like that as it is with those things. Same goes for those of you with personal blades that need upkeep.

[ now, time for the announcement of the grand opening of peepaw's sword emporium. Sort of. ]

Now, if you just want a proper blade of your own for our work here, and I've got a finished one on hand, you can have it if you pay me back for those materials. (Don't do anything stupid with it — they're swords, not toys.) Or, if katana ain't your style and you want something special, or you'd like a matching set, I can do that too. I'll have to test ya so I can see what suits you, plus I'll be charging you for materials and time away from my own work, but it's a properly forged sword made by a master, and you can't beat that price these days.

[ nobody would be so shifty as to start selling those swords on an underground, black market, right? definitely not. ]

And before I forget—Kuzunoha, Laios. You two come see me at the smithy when you're free, regarding the work we talked about before.

[ He already talked to you boys about blades, so you're exempt from this decree about payment... but only once.

And lastly, but most importantly: ]

... Tsurumaru-dono, please feel free to come visit as well. I'd like to see how you're holding up, now that there's a proper forge to work in.

Comments

[misclassed]

[ Consider him menaced. Muramasa's brow furrows, mouth turned down in a bothered frown — ]

Don't be ridiculous. I know it suits me, but what swordsmith wouldn't want to know how the blade feels about the workshop?

[ It's a far cry from something he'd choose himself, but considering the work he put into restoring the dilapidated building, and trying to overcome the lack of industries that would have supported a smith in his own life, he's proud of what he accomplished in such a short time. A Servant's lack of sleep is useful, when it comes to this.

He just wants... a little bit of a second opinion. That's all. ]

[cranekin]

Oh?

(He lets out a laugh, cheerful and bright. How can he not be amused? It's not every day that someone asks a sword for its opinion. Even in his current form, he's aware people mostly care because he's more human than blade. They wonder about person, Tsurumaru Kuninaga, and not the thing, Tsurumaru Kuninaga.)

It's quaint. (Old fashioned but charming,) It's lacking. From here, I can feel only a little. There isn't much, is there? You've accomplished only a small fraction but of course, you've only just begun.

(Unlike the forge back home, he can't feel the same heavy feeling of unrefined iron or the sharpness of steel. But maybe there are better ways to explain he can tell the smith is lacking proper resources.)

Ah, but even from here, I can feel the warmth of the forge. Burning and hungry and bright with promise.

(Words light, carefully chosen and reminiscent of the old poem songs than regular speech. It's less of an answer for a question and more like the beginning of a story only for his tone to drop and return to a more regular cadence,)

Very few blades care about where they're forged, Muramasa-kun. As long as you create a sword with purpose, you'll create sword that will think, "I'm proud to have been made."

[misclassed]

... That's good to know.

[ He hopes that sword, the one he shaped into existence back in the forge at the heart of the world, is proud of itself. He hopes it helped her, in the end.

When they enter, Muramasa's forge is tidy in the way only a workshop still in the calm before a prodigious amount of work is done can be. The work area is small, but the the tools that neatly line the walls all have their place. The anvil sits ready for hammering next to the hearth, which is clean of ash and stocked with fresh charcoal.

But though the tools are structurally perfect, seemingly whole, they're also hollow in a way, missing the most essential essence of a thing. The lacking presence is in nearly everything made of metal, from the tongs, to the hammers, even the anvil with it's solid weight. Rather, it's more like fragments of Muramasa himself filling in the places where metal should rightly be. The sole exception is his own hammer, which sits solidly in its home. ]

Charcoal's the one thing I haven't had trouble getting my hands on. [ The forests that have grown up around Kyoto are a blessing, with only the occasional beast stopping his and Yuta's trips out to chop firewood and set up the mounds, lit with a stray spark and a touch of mana. ] Everything else, I've had to make do with... well, I'm lucky enough that I can pay the price in advance, for things like this.

[ Every spare scrap of iron he's gotten his hands on is going into a blade, not his tools. He'll fix that later. ]