Thread: The Day the Lights Went Out [Langschwert x Cal]

He had to smile at her analogy of the Samurai, interjecting a comment in before continuing with his story. They had guns at one point, you know. He murmured, turning to look toward her. Portuguese and later Dutch traders brought them guns during their war of unification under the Emperor, commanded by Nobunaga. He was well known for his use of guns in war, and it was speculated that was a large part of his victory on the battlefield. They tossed them away after war was won, though, for honor. They invested a lot of importance with their blades, and could not stand to toss them aside as the west did. The end result is the same, of course. They were rolled under the steam roller of Western civilization until the rearming shortly after Admiral Perry's flagship sailed into the harbor and forced them into the modern world. That is part of the danger of hanging onto what was, because the world around you will intrude in it's own good time. Her words brought him around, and he gave a brief nod as he considered. North, further into the mountains could work, I suppose....but I don't think it will work long term. When civilized men outnumber eaters once more, the civilized men will wipe them out, and only the very remote places will be left for the eaters, places civilized men don't want...like the higher peaks of the mountains. I think the time for hiding is past. He paused for a moment, as if considering his words, before finally speaking. We're headed south and slightly east, to Winder. As I understand it a good portion of the University faculty and students have established a community there, and were able to harvest enough and protect it to start up their own little place. About five thousand, I've heard...enough that eaters won't bother them, but not like the free cities where Tyranny has already started. The only problem is we need to pass through Gainesville or some of it's suburbs to reach it. Gainesville was one of the larger cities in northeastern Georgia, and thus a major handicap. Lake Lanier, however, made the walk around the journey of a season and of the three bridges that traversed the lake, two were in the heart of the city and one was in the midst of the suburbs. Cities of a certain size and larger ate out 'dead zones' around them in the months after the change, areas where everything that could be eaten, every edible plant, every animal, and sometimes every vulnerable human being, was gone. The larger the city, the larger the dead zone. Atlanta's dead zone was nearly fifty miles away from the city itself, and was only so contained thanks to the rumors that the government was going to be giving out food...food which had never come. Many people died waiting for it, and more little turf wars started when it became obvious that it was never going to come. Gainesville would be smaller...it was only about a quarter of the size of Atlanta, but he worried about what they would find there, if he could risk taking his people through. He did not share those concerns with her, though, his eyes instead going to her. I'm going to ask you and your family to travel with us. I think your father is inclined toward it already....there is strength in numbers, and thankfully we've been able to get enough food to live on. I intend to stop by every small hamlet I can find and try to find good people to join us, teach them what we know and see if we can't make it to where we need to go safely. Ah, I have something for you. He said, after a moment's pause. He turned behind him, reached into the wagon and withdrew a sheathed short sword from within. The sheath was plain...wooden cored dark leather with a thin loop baldric to sling the weapon over a shoulder, but the handle had, at one point, been fine...a lathe turned top and bottom of finely grained, pale wood with a ribbed handle beneath, currently covered in a dark brown leather that bore sweat marks that said it had been used in many hours of practice. The blade itself was twenty four inches long, with a relatively narrow base widening to a wide point roughly six inches away from the tip before narrowing to a wicked point. It was the sword of the legions of Rome in another age...and the one he had been given by his father, at one point, retired since he had picked up the curved blade. They had their own blacksmith now, and regularly dismantled the useless cars and trucks they found for raw materials...leaf springs, for blades, axles for tougher tool steel, and sheet steel for new suits of armor. The blade he had offered to her was the template for the standard blade they made now, suitable for close in shield work or battlefield chopping, though it would never be as good of a duelists weapon as the long sword he used now. But they had plenty of templates. He paused for a moment, examining the blade, before offering it to her. In the morning, I'll start teaching you how to use it, if you'd like. Much more effective these days than a gun. In another two or three generations the saying will be different than it was before the change...it will become 'Never bring a gun to a swordfight,' I think. So saying, he shot her a grin and a wink. Besides which, as much as I like to play the knight in shining armor, my armor is far more suited for a black knight than a silver, and I've not even gotten the kiss out of the knightly reward for saving a princess, much less your hand in marriage.