Preparation

The armory, as one would expect, housed all manner of arms. All of my allies were happily perusing the assortment like kids in a toy store.

“Ooh, try out these knives,” Fern said, showing Bernicia a belt lined with glinting blades.

“I told you, I wanted a sword,” Bernicia told him. “My black one’s all chipped and dull from all this fighting. Maybe there’s a sharpening block in here…”

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Blake was saying. “It’s practically as big as you.”

“Hehe, you’re concerned?” Angelina cutely laughed. “I’ll be fine. The way the laser cutter felt, I liked it. My muscles, they’ll be trained.”

“Huh. Well, if you say so. Hey Fern, are you also stronger than you look?”

“Kind of? Nowhere near Angie’s level,” he replied.

Marc was stooping in a corner. “Hmm, pistols, pistols.”

“Hey Blake, you still want a polearm?” Bernicia called. “I found this lance-looking thing you can use.”

“Oh-ho, gimme gimme,” Blake yelled, and she tossed it over.