Ken sat in the back, seemingly just touching his hand across the top of the cylindrical black bag that contained his most favorite sword. His prized possession had come to him after his meeting with his mother. Or rather it was better to say that the inspiration for it had come after seeing his mother. It had been a sword he had forged with all the finest metals and had put all of the finest details into its creation. And so he cherished it above all of the other weapons he had made.<br/><br/>He listened to the words of the girl as she had set up their accommodations. She seemed nice but he was not sure if they were actually going to be able to stay there. Fate had brought them here, they could very well be shifted again but he did not expect so. He then pulled the off the top of the cylindrical bag. You could see the hilt of the Kiss of the Sun. But there was something else. It looked like a small roll out case. He took it out and rolled it across his lap. In it there was about fifteen knives, all of them gleaming and of varying lengths.<br/><br/>Some of them were throwing knives and others were melee weapons but all of them were beautifully crafted. All of them had been made by him. He took the pack made it so that the knives were facing outward. He rolled up his sleeve, slipped them on his wrist and rolled the sleeve back over it. He was ready for a fight.