"On most instances," Hector begins, pleased to see that Firo feels comfortable enough to pick up his pace, "I would agree with that logic. However, at least in Valachia, there are few structures that can withstand an ogre's charge. 'Tis better then to cut them down before they have a chance to collapse a building and kill any others unfortunate enough to be trapped inside."

A few moments pass, during which he carefully considers the battle-ready swords resting nearby. Back home and under Hector's tutelage, it would be weeks--months, perhaps--before Firo sees anything but these blunted blades. But this wasn't home. And Firo already has experience with knife-fighting. It wasn't as if they were beginning from scratch. He sets his wooden sword on the ground, as carefully as if it were made of glass. "Would you care to try something sharper?"