soma winces at this, knowing Alexander is right and takes the pda to his room.
"You are lucky youre right....We will speak tomorrow."
his door closes and the templar lays back down, leaving you to your work.
Your blade is in rough shape. The battle with Bryson had dented and mangled the large blade, leaving it more of a large hunk of metal than a greatsword. Out of the room to your left, the silent comes forward, seeing your weapons condition.
"It needs to be evened out...Come lets go to the forge."