Surely Guts doesn't think he's done growing. It's very clear to Lashan, when he's not covered up by armor, that he's very young and has a lot further to go. Despite being this muscular he's really at the gangly stage.

She laughs. "Such faint praise. Blacksmiths do actually have to be effective and do as we've said, or we don't eat." Lashan's got a pretty dim view of nobles as a whole. Mercenaries, her opinion is a bit higher, but she lived that life for long enough, and maintained merc contacts long enough after that, that she doesn't have illusions about it. There are halfway decent ones, even of companies who take care of one another. She's picked up rumors of another one of those recently. But they're not like war bands from the Plains at all.

Not that those had always been as good as she had been brought up to believe, of course. Still.

"By now it'll be fully stiff, hard to poke around at. And another miserable ride to get there." Not to mention that there will be more men crawling around - that thought will not dissuade a boy like this.

Vena comes up with a short stack of half-sharpened metal, the blades distinct from the long tangs. They're grimy, but even polished up wouldn't have the faint ripple evident in Lashan's swordblades. "Look! They're stock removal, so, there was a broken sword and I cut them out of it. With help," she adds, looking at Lashan, and then back at Guts. "The scraps are getting forged together! I can't do that yet. Here, look at them, aren't they nice?"

Lashan shifts slightly, swallowing the urge to tell him to ignore the flaws in the work - of course she sees some - and be polite.