#I don’t actually think a femur is long enough for a sword so we’ll see lol

[stainlesssteellocust]

”I would say it was an elegant weapon for a more civilised age, but that would be a horrible lie!”, or, a random first draft snippet from way ahead of the content I’m ready to post that probably needs a do-over

“Now this brings back memories,” the Tsalal woman says, fiddling with the locks on the case, “I had much the same conversation with your wife. Fascinating woman. Hated my guts, of course, but that didn’t stop her from engaging me on our respective…niche artforms.” 

That takes me off guard. “You’ve met Mo?” 

“Professionally.” Violetta’s an External Asset, so I shouldn’t be that surprised. She’s probably met a lot of people. Still, it takes me off guard.

“To be honest, Howard, I came away a little intimidated. Yulia’s a fine device, but it’s hard to top a Zahn original, you know? Still, I have my pride.” She has an obsession, I’d say, as she removes the last clasp on the box, withdrawing its contents with an air that approaches reverence.

“Behold it.” 

Yulia is the length of a short sword and Violetta holds it like one, settling into an elegant guard. It consists of a bone-white haft covered in carved runes, set with a ruby at the base, and inlaid on two sides are-

“Leaves,” she follows my gaze and predicts my question, “technical term. Obsidian blades taken from the lava flows of Mount Ngranek. The sharpest natural substance on earth.” She grins then, or maybe it’s another Flehmen Response. Who can say. I remember something then, an old documentary, and in an effort to appear cultured I say:

“It’s a macana, right? A macahuitl, the Aztecs called them. They could take the head off a horse.”

“Could take the head off a man, too. The edges don’t break as easily as you’d think, though they struggle to pierce steel armour. It’s convergent evolution, though; this thing never saw South America until after the Age of Discovery. Not exactly a difficult concept; just a stick and some sharp things. No wonder they figured it out twice.”

She chuckles and continues:

“It is also a rather effective thaum lance.”

Violetta raises the weapon high and I see something else: metal inlaid into the odd white haft, circuitry that resembles enochian inscriptions. Lost in the throes of her hyperfixation, Violetta whispers on:

“It works on the same principles as alfar power maces, or those gemstones they use as batteries. The ruby at the bottom - that’s from near Ngranek too, from the mines at Tcho Vulpanomi, back when we dictated terms to the Tsalmoth kings instead of the other way around - that holds power, as does the haft, which was carved from the femur of a man ritually drowned in a cave somewhere on Quanche. The leaves carry some too but they’re mostly channels, directing the power into a blast that at four hundred meters makes a human body burst. 

“It still had trouble with steel. Just like the alfar ones it tends to take the path of least resistance, and grounds itself in heavy metals. Not very reassuring to targets unless they’re in a tank, of course.”

“You said “had”.” I question, and she smiles.

“Of course! That’s what the electronics are for. That and making sure it doesn’t try to kill me; it’s been in use since the White Age, and by now the thing is quite haunted. Allows me to channel and direct the mana supply. Makes it a lot safer to use…and rather more efficient.

“Tankers beware.” And Violetta actually winks.