"You're my bestest friend ever!" "Because I supply you with deadly weapons?" "That's what only the best of friends would do!" -- TheDragonsFlame
[AN: Now I want a Google Search image with "Did you mean 'Bangladesh Dupree'?" in it]
It wasn't easy, working for Princess Hakenslash. She was going to be a fine Warrior Queen one day, presuming she survived to achieve the crown. She was eight, and already a terror in pink tulle and play fairy wings[1]. She wanted nothing more than to beat the snot out of any of the Kingdom's enemies, and the challenge was in making weapons that suited her immature hands.
Alloys forged in Dragon's flame didn't come cheap. Especially bauxite and starmetal. Especially forged using the secrets of Damasc.
Tan the Smith learned to dread the sound of her skipping footsteps, but today? Today, the fates had been kind. Elven artificers and Dwarven smiths and kindly Dragons alike had been working on this since her last birthday. All the same, Tan braced himself as she came, all ribbons, curls, and frilly socks.
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