To Circe's credit, a look at the burnt dwarf's face didn't phase her. "Figured that. Ya'd not be asking fer computer hacking if ya could do it yerself," she nods. As for the explanation of his escape that got a bark of laughter from Circe. "Props man! I could say I used a giant guillotine from an assembly line ta chop my chains but that'd be a lie. Smarter escape, but a lie."
As for where to find weapons that she was less helpful for. "Well one advantage ta going medieval, ya can just buy them," she concedes that, "Problem is finding a seller. Though," she hums in thought. Then says just shrugs, "Fanculo."
But interrupts whatever she is saying to point out a cafe with excellent pies. "Ya heard of folks makin' stuff from the Hedge. I'm figurin' that out. I won't know how ta make anything fancy, I prefer guns and armor really, but a machete ain't that hard ta make. I think. Is it?" It seemed a genuine question.
Anatole had said he was a smith. If a sharpened flat hunk of metal was harder to make then she thought he'd tell her, right? That it might be an issue for Anatole went unnoticed by the Fairest.