Kilika Tengille
The town was akin to a bee hive or an ant farm but Kilika didn't know which fit it better. In either case their was no queen so the whole comparison was a little shotty out of the gate. Bee hive. Trade materials were slowly drifting through artisans alley, tradesmen traded to tradesmen who traded to another tradesmen and eventually a finished product was placed in store. Clock work, yes, that was the right description.
Kilika drifted from every booth enquiring about this, purchasing that, and most importantly having a sit to gather the collective data. In the beginning the only reason she survived was because the gleam of a more powerful weapon didn't have her pulling the coins out. The non player characters were adept hagglers, they would mention it was for a limited time only, but once you had perused the entire town that item was still there and possibly cheaper for your patience.
“Alright. The base hilt can be custom molded for a left hand wield; it can't get any lighter without sacrificing durability and won't get any sharper without sacrificing damage.”
It truly was a top tier base to be working with, the fact that it was a blank customization was a solid bonus. Kilika's last weapon was decent but had come with additional weight to increase damage and successful defence breaks which were near useless for her style of speed and precision.
“Four options. Saving them until the next continent would be wiser but then a base could be available to eclipse this come the first town.”
In the end it was always best to play it safe in this world. Your life was in the balance after all and what was a couple thousand coins in comparison?
Dusk was overtaking the sky when Kilika rounded the corner which lead to the Drunken Troll. Titus would still have plenty of time before the allotted meeting, “can't be seen just lulling about. A little drink couldn't hurt.... a couple might even be acceptable,” and with that she entered the area.
