Exton

"Milady Star," I call. "A moment, if you please."

She turns to face me, her eyes alive with curiousity. "I am told that you have gained a measure of proficiency with the shuriken. It is my wish to gift you with these." - here I press a black pouch into her hand. "There are five shuriken in this pouch, of the pattern that I believe you prefer. I am told that your human heritage protects you from the hazards of Cold Iron, yes?" She nods. "These weapons are crafted of surgical steel, which from the Sidhe perspective is the same as Cold Iron. Have a care, milady!" - for already she is withdrawing the first of the set - "they are quite sharp enough to cut to the bone, and they are ensorcelled besides."