1. Macabre Marmalade (COMPLETED; EDITING)

XII (5.3)

"Sorry about the smell. I was trying to make an apple pie but got caught up with fixing this dagger handle I forgot it was in the oven," a gentle male voice came from the workbench on the right side of the shop.

Todor turned to regard the speaker trying to ignore unpleasant smell cloying at his nose. It was an Anadori gentleman wearing a leather apron and sandy hair neatly gathered into a ponytail. No, he is half-breed, like Mab, he realized after a second. Anadori were perfect in such an unnatural to human eyes. This guy looked normal level of handsome if you ignored his pointy ears.

"Mab. Is something wrong with your daggers? And who are your friends?" half-breed blacksmith asked putting down the piece he was working on.

"Daggers are perfect, as always uncle Carl," Mab assured him."I came for my friend to get a weapon. He got an unpleasant surprise yesterday and doesn't feel safe anymore."

"Well come closer so I can see you," half-elf said motioning them. Todor and Irry came meekly.

"Hello, my name is Todor Corpus," Todor said unsure how to respond.

"Irry. Just Irry. I am not here," Irry added with a wave of her hand.

"I am Carl Cavanagh. I don't know what little Mab told you but I don't make weapons for just anyone," Carl said scanning both of them with a pair of dark blue eyes.

"Oh, I don't need a weapon," Irry said with a dismissive palm gesture. Carl fixed his gaze on her and after a few seconds nodded.

"Yes, I think I saw you going to Micks few times," Carl concluded. "What about you?" he asked switching his attention to Todor.

"I need a vampire slaying blade," Todor responded with a lopsided grin.

Carl glanced at Irry for a second, his gaze lingering on her neck for just a bit. Then he was back to scrutinizing Todor again. And he probably came to the wrong conclusion there, Todor thought.

"So I see. What kind of blade do you think suits you?" Carl asked stroking his chin.

"While I was practicing HEMA I was very good with rondel daggers. And with swords, I think I was most comfortable with type XIV if we go with Oakeshott typology," Todor answered honestly.

Carl was taken aback with that answer. He squinted at Todor, curiosity plain on his face.

"Are those Anadori or Morg names for blades?" he asked.

"Neither. They are ... " Todor started to answer but someone else finished instead of him.

"Human," a new voice proclaimed.

Everyone turned to a newcomer who came from somewhere deeper in the shop.

"Kurt, you are home," Carl said smiling, "Everyone this is my husband, Kurt Cavanagh."

"Uncle Kurt," Mab yelled and ran to hug the man.

"Hey, there pipsqueak. I see you brought friends," Kurt said looking at Todor and Irry.

"That can wait," Carl said forcefully, "What do you mean it's human? Young man, if you want some of that technological weapons you must go to Nick's. He does a good job if you ignore that he has no tradition in his work," he proclaimed turning to Todor.

"You don't understand, uncle Carl," Mab said before Todor could respond, "He lived in the world of humans where no magic existed."

"Oh, you don't look three hundred years old," Carl said renewing his gaze at Todor, "And I thought humans didn't use blades in Mundane Era."