asher-forrester:
asher gave the knight a sideways glance at the question. he paused for a moment, as if to consider the lad’s question, but his mind was wondering why he had taken such interest in his weapon of choice. what about the sellsword was the knight trying to determine? was he a good fighter? that was the wrong question to ask. was he an honourable fighter? asher grinned to himself. hardly. “i carry a hatchet and a short sword.” he said. the hatchet was forged in ironrath with the forrester crest, the shortsword once belonged to slave owner in yunkai. asher chuckled and relieved the lad of his flask, downing the liquid within as if it was water, “aye, but summerwine’s not going to keep you warm when winter comes little lord.” not to mention it took twice as long to get drunk on summerwine.
olyvar considered the man’s answer for a moment. he hadn’t expected the man to revel himself as a coward, nor did the knight expect him to be one. the way he was acting said more than enough about what his demeanor was most like in battle, but his answer was more than satisfactory. “good choices. axes are less heard of, but if you carry one i’m certain you know how to use it,” he said, half wishing he had kept the thought inside his head. he watched in awe as the man downed the liquor that had almost turned his stomach inside out with ease. “that much is true,” he agreed. “spiced summerwine though, fresh out of the fire. that’ll do just fine for me. and i’m no lord.”