Caelianodal looks up when he hears the requirement for a blunt weapon. He is painfully aware of how depleted his purse was after his whirlwind shopping spree. With a shrug he returns to his task of strapping the lance to the saddle. He can always find a stout branch to cut into a club as they travel.

He mounts his horse and pushes on the lance. "Seems secure", he thinks. He grabs the lance with his left hand, gives the slip knot a sharp tug with his right. He lifts the freed lance and grasps it with his right hand, letting the weight of the weapon drop the tip into the ready position.

"Slower than I'd like, but acceptable" he decides. "At least it leaves my hands free to use the bow as I ride." He turns his mount back towards the group as he reties the lance. "I'm ready to go when you are" he says.