Curses be upon you, woman! dont you hear me knocking! wake up! a gruff man's voice shouts from the other side of the door.
The thunder awakens you, and rings long and loud... far longer than normal thunder usually does. it takes you a moment to realize that someone is pounding hard upon a door somewhere within the rusty dragon inn, followed up with some kind of harsh voice, though it is hard to hear exactly what is said with all the pounding.
Zeldana breathed in the smell and smiled slight. Today she was going to go to Loxley and check on Corrin.... and try to keep the new card from her mind for the moment...
She dressed and swiftly made her way to the main room. "Would you like any help father?" She asked with a smile.
She sits up and grabs for Nualia's blade. Crossing the room she cracks the door only a couple of inches.
"I'm here, I'm here, what IS it?!"
about time you answered the door he grouses out, lowering his fist. thought you people woke up with the rising sun and what not.
He waves his hand and frowns as you open your mouth to respond Nevermind that. How in the hells below did you get your hands on a First Blade?
Thank you, corrin. I was going to do that he nods at the pitch fork in your hand and the pile of manure in the wheelbarrow. But, i- it still hurts. he gently taps his abdomen.
You have more to learn today. If you are to be Empress, you had best learn your magic, and learn it fast. Your effort yesterday was woefully lackluster and pathetic. That you managed to learn anything at all is a miracle worthy of being written upon the stars. on this day, Lady Loxley, Empress of the Chelaxian empire and outer territories, did finally understand a simple low power spell. Tremble in fear he laces that last line with heavy sarcasm.
Bridget, a half elf prostitute, rolls out of bed. damn that was loud. she grumbles, stumbling to the small vanity and taking a seat, not bothering to cover up her nudity. She pours a glass of some dark liquid and drinks it before filling up that cup and another. she stands up and approaches the bedside where you lay upon. Taking a seat, she hands you the cup. Sounds like its raining out... any plans for the day? or do you wish to stay in with me? she smiles a sultry smile, her yellow stained teeth flashing.
Loxley flinched at the voice in her head.
”Must you be so cruel?”
The eyes in the darkened room should have brought a sense of foreboding, but the longer she spent under the entity’s stern gaze the more accustomed to it she was becoming. The idea should have probably worried her, but she just couldn’t find the concern right now. Perhaps it was the late night she’d spent pouring over the notes she’d taken the day before.
She yawned and sat up.
”Feridoma.”
Loxley whispered her personal incantation for the prestidigitation cantrip as she made a small gesture. With a wave she lit the room’s candles, bathing the room in their dim lights.
The face she made was more from reflex when ‘Bandit’ addressed her as Empress. Though the look she gave the raccoon at his mockery did nothing to hide her lack of amusement. But she composed herself and hid her irritation.
”I would remind you that I am still learning and I am not ashamed to admit when I don’t know something.”
She retorted as she dressed. It was only when she instinctively reached for her cloak that she registered the sound of heavy rain.
How had she slept through that ruckus? No matter, Loxley thought as she grabbed the traveling cloak and her satchel.
”I think being able to learn is a gift that I will continue to hungrily abuse.”
"I acquired it in a trade. The greatsword is my preferred weapon. I found a magical ranseur while adventuring, and was able to trade it for this magical greatsword. Will this make it harder to mend? What do you know about the first blades?"
The shopkeep had no idea what a one-sided trade it was. She keeps this part to herself and lets the smith draw his own conclusions.
no, no plans beyond working...unless you wish to pay for the day with me? she runs a finger along your thigh, gently grazing your manhood. If you pay for the day, i could go along with you... and let you... do things... to me...anywhere you want.
be that as it may, you have much to learn, and not a lot of time to learn it. You dont know where the Duchess has gone, and aside from Talin arriving, you havent had word from her. You do not know if she has been compromised, and your secret has been spilled... the other empress of Cheliax will not sit on her hands when she learns of your existence, so you need to be ready. the racoon looks at the rod in your possession, but says nothing more.
Trade? hard? ranseur? he babbles out, his words stumbling over one another.
he closes his eyes shut, holding up a hand for silence.
he takes several moments breathing, forcing the heavy red hue to subside from his face.
Food. I need food. Have you eaten? Let's eat some breakfast and i will tell you about first blades
a single card blazing with magical energies? Suppose its from her harrow deck, no?
seeing you nod, he nods in understanding. unfortunately, aside from knowing that her people use the harrow deck for fortune telling, You know, the "will i find true love", "will i have wealth?" kind of fortunes- i am not really familiar with them. I know that there is a certain method to drawing the cards, and that each card in a certain order hold special meaning for these fortunes, but magical? I dont know, sorry
Zeldana set about gathering the mugs as her father requested then set about getting the tea steep together for when the hot water was done. "Father, I have a question to pose but I do not desire to cast a shadow upon your day. When would be the best time to speak on it?"
"Not yet. Absolutely, I'll even buy. I'm eager to know more about my favored sword!"
bridget sighs theatrically. Oh, I have plans with the queen of Cheliax this evening. we are to sip tea out on the veranda she waves at the window that looks out onto the narrow bay of Sandpoint. Laughing, she stretches, arms overhead, arching her back, her perky breasts budding forth. Pale and pink, the nipples wink at you, inviting.
no, no plans beyond working...unless you wish to pay for the day with me? she runs a finger along your thigh, gently grazing your manhood. If you pay for the day, i could go along with you... and let you... do things... to me...anywhere you want.
"Keep talking like that, kid, and I might buy your contract," Crusk says. "The queen of Cheliax will be waiting for you. Although if I did buy your contract, you'd have to follow me anywhere."
Crusk was definitely thinking of buying Bridget's contract. She was so good for his birthday night. And just look at those lithe curves. No, he was forgetting his quest. Still, he could go down to the brothel and buy her contract.
Crusk asked as he was putting on his clothes, "Question, how much does your contract cost?"
Loxley ignores ‘Bandit’s initial barb, but his mention of not knowing where the Duchess ended up or her current situation made her pause with one hand on the door.
Talin’s arrival had given her some hope that she was okay, but many things can happen in a short time. Of this, she was fully aware.
”It’s true that I have no way to know when she will act, but I can hardly spend time worrying constantly. I would scarcely have time for anything else.”
Loxley attempted to sound neutral, but there was obvious fear in her causal tone. Her other hand rested on the modified scroll case she wore behind her sword. It was where she hid the rod out of sight and it was magically locked as best she could.
”And I can hardly sequester myself away in some hole or tower to wait for impending doom. I have companions I have promised to aid if I can.”
Loxley sighed.
”Though, once I have rendered that aid it would be best if I moved on. I can’t, in good conscience, further endanger them or the town.”
She paused and took a centering breath before forcing a more cheerful demeanor. She gave the raccoon a friendly smile that only someone paying close attention may notice didn’t quite touch her eyes.
”Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful for your apparent concern and the knowledge you seem willing to share. And I will continue to listen and grant you the benefit of the doubt. But you’ll have to appreciate that I still have my own suspicions in regards to your generosity. After all, I don’t know what you are or what motivations drive you. And frankly, I hardly believe you enjoy being called ‘Bandit’ by beings so obviously your lessers.”
grasping a long handled fork, your father spears the sausages onto a platter. Reaching down, he pulls a couple of potatoes from the warming chamber set next to the stove and sets them on the plate as well.
Shall we? he asks, walking to the narrow table and setting the meal down.
He takes a potato and couple sausages, and lays them onto his plate. He smiles at you as you pour the tea into his mug. thank you my dear
taking a bite of sausage, he closes his eyes and enjoys the savory taste of the stuffed meat and crispy skin.
Alright. I have my tea, ive had a bit to eat. Speak.
Thank you, corrin. I was going to do that he nods at the pitch fork in your hand and the pile of manure in the wheelbarrow. But, i- it still hurts he gently taps his abdomen.
circumstances require that i be in this form, lest the balance of Fate be up-ended. Allowing myself to be bound as a familiar to Sazzat that enabled me to become your companion enabled Maliphviston to gain his disciple, the lady you know as Katrine Vinder. Even now, the vessel for his rebirth quickens in her belly after her forceful- Bandit cuts off. when you finish your breakfast, if youd like, i can teach you another forgotten spell.
Bridgete abandons the sly, coquettish behavior. She instead turns at you and assumes a more businesslike tone to her voice. What? pay for- 200 gold. she blurts.
"That's all?" Crusk wonders. "A courtesan's contract can go for five times that much. Well, it's Sandpoint, and you've got a deal. The next time me and my fellows discover some treasure. I'll buy your contract!"
Yes, if she was being serious, so could he. He continued to get his clothes on. "Don't wait too long, Bridget. But then again . . . Hmm, I wonder how your parents will react to you marrying a half-orc," he teased.
"In all seriousness though, I don't want all your beauty wasted," Crusk says as he is completely dressed. "Here, you go."
Crusk hands Bridget the money she needs for the day. About 50 gp worth. "Don't wait for me, Darlin'."
"Beloved father, you already have grey hairs." Zeldana said with a playful smile as she helped get everything settled and joined him at the table. "I say it maybe difficult because it is about grandmother." Zeldana admitted as she began to cut her sausages into small pieces. "Did she ever mention anything about the deck?"
"You are welcome Mr. Hosk. you have been like the best person ive met in sandpoint that isnt my blood sister.. Shalelu or that nice druidic family just outside of town the Purrens.... their daughter helped me birth the foal... i didnt know how to annotate that one dawn in the books.
He paused thinking about Treju.... and he sister.. well the whole family really... and shelelu. Evrieni was a problem too... His shoulders slumped. So much to worry about so little time it felt like.. but dirst the mask.
"if you dont need anything else i'll be back after dinner to put Dewdrop to bed.. and help with anything else heavy if thats okay with you? "
He asked the older still wounded man.
Yeda throws on her usually clothing but this time goes ahead and dons her armor, and straps Nualia's blade to her side. With that visit she's pulled into the mindset that it's time to get down to business.
In a short ten minutes she's downstairs and locating Das' table.
"Well then, let's get to it." she remarks while helping herself to a seat at their table.
Loxley considered ‘Bandit’ for a moment. She couldn’t hide the frown at the mention of Katrine Vinder.
At his offer though, Loxley managed a smile again.
”I would be honored. Your last lesson was more productive than you may believe.”
She mentioned with a chuckle as she opened her door. It was obvious her furry companion had no need for her to, but she held the door open for ‘Bandit’ before following him out into the hall.
”Some of what you showed me helped with some other spells I’ve been looking over.”
Loxley continued, actually genuinely excited about the subject.
The sound of Yeda’s door closing drew her attention and she spotted the blacksmith turning to head downstairs. She wondered what he brought the man around to call on the warrior, but it wasn’t her busy to pry into. So she simply gave the man a smile and nod as she moved to follow him down as well.
In the dining hall she spotted Anx and considered joining him, but the old man looked to be in a mood and she wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with that before having breakfast. Though did notice the blacksmith joined the wizard and it tugged at her curiosity. Several minutes later she saw Yeda join the other two.
Loxley half watched the trio as she waited on her own breakfast.
You descend the stairs and find Das sitting with a very, very exhausted and disheveled Anx. Both men have tankards set before them, and watch as you approach the table.
Ahh, the warrior Anx mumbles softly, wincing.
Come join us. Das follows immediately.
Pathea flows out from the back of the inn and sets out plates and spoons and knives, along with napkins made of cotton.
Gentlemen, yeda. Good morning. How we doing today? the new arrival to the Inn asks gently. Sir, do you need help? You look a bit worse for wear...
anx waves his hand, and you are shocked to see it completely charred up to his elbow. No, no child. A small price to pay for breaking a bargain made long ago. Whatever meat has survived the night will suffice for me. You two? he asks you and das
Bread and butter. small chunk of mutton if you have it. das asks politely from clenched jaws.
Pathea nods and looks at Yeda.
you take a seat at a table that is, not far, but not close to the table that yeda sits at with Anx and the blacksmith Das. You watch as pathea flows out from the back of the inn and sets the table. you hear pathea ask about breakfast, and witness Anx lift a horribly blackened hand up.
Father Zantus snorts always something with that one. you know, when she was 13, she lectured me about the hierarchy of the gods? the aged man lights a candle and intones a prayer over the flame.
a single card blazing with magical energies? Suppose its from her harrow deck, no?
seeing you nod, he nods in understanding. unfortunately, aside from knowing that her people use the harrow deck for fortune telling, You know, the "will i find true love", "will i have wealth?" kind of fortunes- i am not really familiar with them. I know that there is a certain method to drawing the cards, and that each card in a certain order hold special meaning for these fortunes, but magical? I dont know, sorry
"The Weft. What do you remember her saying about that?" Zeldana asked curiously before taking a few bites of her own breakfast.
Look, its been fun. Now, either pay for more time or get out...
"I'll try to remember that," Crusk deadpans. He then leaves the room, and shuts it. He then goes down the stairs. He still had his lute and his bagpipes. Although he loathed to play the bagpipes.
"Loxley, Loxley?" he asked. "Hmm, can't find her anywhere. Even the shop owner is gone."
He looked around, and finding a place to sit down he did. "Nice girl, though she get's all business when you talk seriously," he said. So, he said, "Who would like to hear a song?"
|
Gunnar nods understanding as Abstalar speaks. He says "Well, everything is very weird. First, she has that thing of being marked as a bride, now this. I tell you, there's something bigger going on with that woman. I think... I'll ask a more knowledgeable friend." He knows this won't offend Abstalar.
He takes the book of Sir Belanteih and places it in front of Desna's shrine. Crossing his legs, he closes his eyes and prays "Goddess, show me what to do regarding Zeldana, the cartomancer." Knowing the gods messages come in riddles, anything would be better than having no clue whatsoever. Gunnar spends as long as it takes praying to get any sign of what to do.
"Just coffee. Black."
She turns back to Das, mostly not paying mind to Anx.
"Well, let's hear about these 'first blades.'"
Pathea nods and walks away to the back. A minute later, she comes back with three mugs and pours cups of coffee for everyone at the table.
first blades Das begins you have to understand, they hold great significance. It should be noted not to confuse these First blades with the honorific First Blade given to the heralds of of our Lord in Iron, Gorum. These First Blades we talk about are the actual First Blades of their kind in the history of crafting blades. They are the crafters of Myth, of legend, hewing destiny from the lives of those they kill. And kill they do. Das pauses to take a drink of his coffee.
And kill they do. You have to understand, they were made to facilitate the ease of killing an enemy as dependent upon the need of the situation and individual.
Anx chimes in The short sword for example. Eons ago, the need was there for a sword made of a length of no more than 24 to 28 inches, with a severe point to easily punch through the ring armor that predominated the lands growing armies wore at such a time.
Aye das says Same with the long sword, a natural extension of the need to deflect a swung blade and immediately reach out and kill the enemy. he looks at Anx, who nods. each first blade is made to combat something that necessitated the creation of it in the first place. And with the creation of each First Blade gets a name at creation.
anx speaks up well, technically, the blade earns its name after its first battle, but that first battle is considered part of its creation process as well.
Das snaps a level look at Anx, who shrugs in response. what? she needs to know.
Das snorts So says the historian
Anx smirks and drinks his coffee, wincing. details matter, dear boy
Das snorts again. shall i continue?
Anx nods, remaining silent.
You may be thinking, what makes the blades so special that they get names, and how does that pertain to me? Well, as history tells us, each wielder of the blade becomes a force onto nature, a one man wrecking crew capable of taking on the mightiest of fell creatures, the lone individual capable of stopping a charging army he pauses, his mouth open as he hesitates to speak the last.
A mortal capable of killing a god anx finishes simply.
Das rolls his eyes No first blade that we are aware of has been used in the killing of a god
that we are aware of. anx retorts earnestly Of that we are aware of. You think the gods, devils, demons, and other entities would allow such knowledge of a mere mortal weapon capable of killing one of them be made public knowledge?
because its not possible. das retorts
Sar'chen anx answers.
Das sits back in his chair, silent, acting if that word is all the answer there is.
We dont know the full story of Sar'chen Anx says around his cup of coffee.
No, we dont. And only bad things happen to those that go searching for that blade. Das replies, crossing his thick arms.
"So the events themselves are fixed, but what we do in the moment and before and after is of our own make..." Zeldana muttered to herself thoughtfully. She took a few bites of her food, a little of each which she had put in order of potato, sausage, and potato. However she paused mid bite with the fork still in her mouth when he pointed at her. But as he continue she stopped eating completely and placed her fork down. Thrice marked he said... and as his listed them Zeldana marked them in her mind. She was and had been born a woman, but half of the population could claim that so it could not be a firm start in either way. The second one peeked her worry a bit more. Lost everything and fate grating it back? She had lost her magic, lost Jorn, and lost her sense of self. But it was not everything. Though she would not be surprised if she was reading too much into it. The third aspect would have given her more but when he could not remember and was seeming to get frustrated she shook her head slightly. "The Mistress of the Weft."
"Okay, historian. So what of Mar'du? What is the purpose and intent of its creation? I have no need or intention to kill a god."
Looking down in her coffee, she has an errant thought and frowns.
"Are there any specific difficulties in mending a first blade? Does it need a new creation story?"
He played just some music. Just to lighten the mood. Crusk also played some chords on his lute in order to attract some people to pay him some tips. The music was written by another bard that was also a lute player. The music came from Cheliax. It was a love song about two lovers, one human the other a Tiefling. How the two fell in love, and their lives were suddenly cut short when the human died and the tiefling was sold into slavery.
It took ten minutes to perform.
Loxley had considered ‘Bandit’s offer as she had walked downstairs and sat.
She watched Pathea move through the hall and her mind threatened to wander.
Quickly though, Loxley shook her head and turned her attention back to ‘Bandit’.
“I’d have to say, after some consideration, I think a good enchantment may prove useful in the long run. Evocations have their uses while adventuring, but outside of combat they’re but so helpful.”
She admitted, a little embarrassed that she relied on them more than she liked. Though she did like her illusion-based shadow trapping, most of what she relied on were evocations.
Loxley didn’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation, but her attention drifted a bit and she picked up pieces of it. When Anx raised his blackened hand Loxley barely caught her gasp, but she managed to bite it back.
She also didn’t mean to ignore ‘Bandit’, but the arcanist found herself more drawn in as the topic of first blades was brought up. ‘Bandit’ could see the adorable look of concentration on Loxley’s face as she unconsciously leaned in their direction to listen.
”Sar’chan?”
She repeated under her breath as she sat back a bit. She tried to remember what she’d read about the sword.
She quickly set those thoughts aside as Yeda turned the conversation to Mar’du.
Das and Anx both speak at the same time
No one knows Anx says
It can be mended! Das snaps
Both men look at each other. Anx sits back and waves his hand, allowing Das to continue.
Thank you. Das looks back at you. Yes, the blade can be repaired, reforged. Though, the legends do not say if the blades return to their former glory after such an action. he smirks however, i am a damned good blacksmith. Learning about the First blades has been a pleasant hobby of mine. And i have a theory-
We anx mutters
We have a theory that will enable the reforging of a First Blade to achieve its former glory. Das says, leaning forward with excitement.
We think that part of the reason that first blades became legendary weapons capable of astonishing feats is not only with the task it was designed for, but in its forging process as well.
Every blade, anx interrupts as said earlier, was forged for an express purpose, to combat something specific. a response to an external threat. Desperation, discipline, dedication, devotion- all emotional responses to said external threat, given life within a metallic shape.
Anx looks at Yeda intently Do You have such a need?
He cuts off, looking at Crusk as he begins to play his lute.
an annoyed look flashes across his face. He opens his mouth and shouts at Crusk Hey! Shut up! We are trying to speak here
Youve seen it mentioned in some passages here and there. always in reference to an assassination, to death. Chaos, anarchy follows in its footstep. You vaguely recall something about this weapon having a real unique creation, forged from the tip of Death's own Soul reaping scythe and the handle made from the bones of the universe.
Bandit, who had been sitting on the table, seems to bristle at your soft utterance
Sar'chan his voice intones softly within your head. but the way he says the word is different than, almost wrong. a discordant opposite of harmony of voiceTake heed, little one. he warns that path leads to destruction. Pay it no nevermind and focus on your studies, and your friendship with the Mistress of the Weft.
"I do not think that is what she meant." Zeldana said with a small smirk pulling at her lips. "I believe she meant that events will happen that our outside of our control, and there is nothing we can do to change that." She pulled out the deck and drew the newly found card. "What we get to choose is our actions. How we react, and how we address what is laid before us. Those are out action and we are responsible for them." Zeldana stated almost assuredly before she smirked at her father and said "Like mother's favorite mug."
However she then placed the case facing her father in the center of the table. "Like you, siring me... who has drawn the The Mistress of the Weft."
Loxley was lost in thought when ‘Bandit’s voice cut in again.
She blinked and looked confused for a moment at the way his voice pronounced the first blade’s name. It sent a kind of chill down her spine.
”Worry not, little one, I have no interest in acquisition. Purely academic.”
She gave the raccoon a small smile.
“But I suppose you’re correct, I should focus. If there is aid I can render in regards to Mar’du, I’m sure they’ll come to let me know.”
As she waited on breakfast Loxley pulled out her spellbook and notes. Chuckling as the old wizard expressed his displeasure at Crusk’s performance.
He said getting the powerful liqour (he assumed) from the top shelf and handing it to the older human. He tilted his head to the side and watched him for a moment..
"dont tru too much work i'll be back later to help i just ... I really need to find someone." He offered before heading back to the rusty dragon to see if anyone would help him find Anx.
"Oh hi everyone.... I really was trying to find..."
He paused as his eyes ran actoss the man in question. he tilted his head and studied the blackened arm witha slight frown. but he marched right over pulled up a chair and sat as directly in front of hte old wizard as much as he could.
"We have words to have still i beieve.... about my mask."
Das and Anx both speak at the same time
No one knows Anx says
It can be mended! Das snaps
Both men look at each other. Anx sits back and waves his hand, allowing Das to continue.
Yeda looks back and forth between the too, expectant and eager, but a little frustrated.
"Maybe one at a time talks..."
Thank you. Das looks back at you. Yes, the blade can be repaired, reforged. Though, the legends do not say if the blades return to their former glory after such an action. he smirks however, i am a damned good blacksmith. Learning about the First blades has been a pleasant hobby of mine. And i have a theory-
We anx mutters
"Please! On with it!" Yeda pleas.
We have a theory that will enable the reforging of a First Blade to achieve its former glory. Das says, leaning forward with excitement.
We think that part of the reason that first blades became legendary weapons capable of astonishing feats is not only with the task it was designed for, but in its forging process as well.
Yeda leans in and listens intently as they start to finally get somewhere.
Every blade, anx interrupts as said earlier, was forged for an express purpose, to combat something specific. a response to an external threat. Desperation, discipline, dedication, devotion- all emotional responses to said external threat, given life within a metallic shape.
Anx looks at Yeda intently Do You have such a need?
She takes on a determined expression, looks Anx in the eyes, and nods sharply.
"Yes! To eliminate the threats to the community of Sandpoint!"
As luck would have it, you laid open the book before you, and upon it, a page you hadnt yet read. A short missive, a prayer to Desna, seeking guidance in a troubling time. below it, written in a hasty scrawl, a method of praying to the Goddess that the Paladin himself found to be beneficial. You study what the author has written, and do the very same actions..
Focusing upon yourself, you push away the distractions that surround you. Father Zantus and his slight shuffling step, Orlieth and his dragging foot and hissing breath. the thunder and storm of the outside world, you push it all away, and focus inward. Sir Belanteih wrote that when one wishes to speak to the Goddess, that at times he has felt the greatest need to speak to her, he has done these very actions that you do now. Focus on yourself, focus inward. And in that moment where breath and heart beat are one, where your mind has truly become from of distractions, that the Goddess of Luck will find you.
You focus, letting your mind still, be silent, opening yourself to whatever fortune has in favor for you to be revealed...
a soft whisper sounding as though a gossamer upon the wing of a buttery intones within your mind
Speak your prayer, priest, and I shall answer what i can, if it is within our Goddess' power to do so
Your father smiles at you, a big beaming smile. Marrying your mother, and becoming the father to you, are the two things i will say that Fate had a hand in he reaches across the table and squeezes your hand.
he looks down at the card case, and at the new card you present before him. He frowns, picking both up. The Mistress of the Weft? he spins the card, examining it. Now, this is new... where did you find it? Ive looked at harrow decks all my life, and never have i seen a card like this before. holding it up to catch more of the ambient light Odd... the Harrower on this card... he looks at it then at you weird. My eyes arent what they used to, but- he sets the card down and gets up. Walking to the back wall, he grasps the small lamp and lights it with proficient ease. He brings the lamp back to the table and sets it down. There, much better- yeah.... yeahhhh he examines it closely wow... it could be my old man eyes, but did you sure you pulled this from the deck? Looks like a strange drawing of you... see, here, the eyes. he sets the card down and points, directing your attention to the card.
youve seen yourself countless times in the polished copper mirror your mother has. you have spent tons of minutes with your mother before it, learning how to apply makeup to yourself, how to brush and mold your hair to fit your preference of the day, to see how a new dress looks upon your slim frame. And always, you have looked at your eyes. Golden and purple, two opposites, reflecting your dual nature, part elf, part human.
and yet, here, upon the card, looking closer at it, you see the heterochromian eyes. Golden, and purple.
Anx looks at corrin with a raised eyebrow.
Hmmm... would appear that we do. yes he leans forward, grasping the elf's chin in his undamaged hand, pinching it hard in an iron grip. he pulls Corrin's head left and right, examining him yes indeed. I can see it clearly... the voices have already started, have they not? he lets go, sitting back with a wince.
Das glares at corrin at the interruption hey! he begins but quiets while Anx speaks momentarily with corrin.
And they say I am rude he laughs at his own self joke.
Hmmm? eliminate the threats to Sandpoint? both the blacksmith and the wizard laugh loudly.
My dear Anx laughs Any brave individual can Save Sandpoint with a pointy stick. chuckling, he takes a long drink
Plenty of stories of individuals without first blades resound in history saving towns and villages from its enemies. Das further explains.
in the greatness of history Anx picks up after Das there is always some village, some town that needs to be saved. Is bravery involved? yes. Is heroism on display? absolutely. But worthy of first blade? nay.
If Sandpoint was wiped off the face of the planet tomorrow, who would batt an eyelash at it? sure, the people that live here would be affected, but beyond that? the world continues on, indifferent to the happenings of one small town.
Das leans forward and sticks a thick finger into Yeda's broad chest hard.The truly momentous, the awe inspiring, the legendary... that comes from within.
True
desperate
need. he emphasizes his point of what he says by jamming his finger into yeda's chest.
The voice of a nation crying out for relief! for justice! for a true heir anx says, glancing momentarily at Loxley
A civilization about to be destroyeddas answers
The act of killing an arch-devil
The act of Avenging
The act of Self-sacrifice Das and Anx say in unison.
silence fills the room
Are you willing to sacrifice yourself for a cause? Anx asks quietly. are you willing to put yourself before others, to be the frontline against an enemy so great, so terrible, that it means certain, absolute destruction of not only your body, but your soul itself?
She frowns.
"But I admit the challenge ahead of us may not be that... epic."
Crusk wonders if he knew of the occult? Especially since that was becoming more and more like Loxley's area of expertise. No, he generally knew what was going on in the nation of Varisia, and he knew some songs. After all, he had the songs of the people memorized.
Still if these two men knew where his father was . . . he'd better ask.
Loxley noticed Corrin enter and gave the Druid a nod as he looked her way.
She shook her head and chuckled as Anx and the blacksmith seemed to take some pleasure in informing Yeda of her underestimation of the blade’s true purpose. Though she did pause in her notes to give a wizard a look at his obvious reference.
Loxley returned to her studies under her unexpected tutor.
"It had bound itself to The Hidden Truth" Zeldana answered honestly.
Zeldana moved the look at it closer with her father as he pointed it out. "Well I would not wear yellow. No self respecting harrower would." She began as a sort of joke to level herself out. "But this, almost makes it more likely to say the following that I had dreaded..." She sighed heavily as she picked up the card and began to shuffle it back into her deck.
"... The Warden of the Weft has broken his chains..." Zeldana said as she turned from her father and made her way to the widow which looked out upon Sandpoint. "And the Mistress of the Weft, has come." She said as she drew from the deck to show him the card of it again without looking at him. "... daddy..." She breathed as she looked back at him, it had been just past a decade since she called him that as she started calling him father by the time she was ten, "I'm scared" She admitted before she broke into tears.
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Gunnar gives himself to his focus. He feels connected to his Goddess, to the world and to himself. He asks "Goddess of Freedom, a dear and powerful friend of mine has been the target of great suffering and seems to be at the crossroads of some powerful entity. I ask, what must I do to protect Zeldana and our group of friends?"
"I would say yes but you clearly already know more than your telling me." he said voice low as he stood there looking about furtively. It was like he was embaressed by it.
?what are we going to do about it?
The Harbinger has begun to cross the threshold, assuming his domain. his essence quickens a burden upon his favorite.
Your friends must seek out their Fate
The Mistress of the Weft has uncovered the yellow prophet, the tool she needs to reknit the weft of destiny. Offer her counsel, and urge caution when needed, and hast when demanded
The heiress holds her birthright, yet refuses to accept. To save millions of souls, she must acknowledge her royal blood and accept the responsibility of leadership. offer wisdom and countenance
to save his soul from the madness of the Harbinger, The last of his clan must seek out the frond of the Barrowwrain. The skeins of fate show that he must be made whole first, lest this world fall to madness.
The sword maiden, her blade be made whole, able to wound the Harbinger
Guide them on their travels, bestow the blessing of our lady Desna upon them daily, grant them the luck they deserve so long as they pursue their destiny.
[/b]
Anx and Das nod simply. sometimes, Anx intones the act isnt known until it is thrust upon the person.
and the blade responds to the need das finishes. he takes a long pull
The great thing about these blades is they are easily able to be forged to their original shape. the steel, it holds a memory of the shape they were destined to be made into. Give me three days and itll be finished.
Das stands up and looks at yeda. If you come help me, it'll go quicker...
anx looks at Corrin
now, last of his clan, let's talk about your mask eh?
your father chuckles bit of on obvious place to hide a harrow card. he chuckles a little more before sighing, sitting back.
hearing you utter daddy, im scared, his whole demeanor changes. Gone is his inquisitive nature. instead, he transforms into a tall, dominating figure, one that you havent seen since you were younger. The look upon his face is that of pure controlled intensity, the willingness to take on anything that would threaten his baby girl. He stands up and grasps your shoulder. Before you can protest, he wraps you into his protective embrace.
Shhhhh.... shhhhh he mummers, holding you tight yet warmly. shhhhh...its ok. he caresses the back of your head, smoothing your hair. shhhh...itll be ok. He growls deeply within his chest, and then sighs once more.
It pains me to say this, my dear Zeldana Emraeal Luminita Dardlara Anca Nordlara Amaria he rattles off your entire name I fear that my knowledge in what is happening to you has run its course... I think you need to meet the triplets.
Maybe this guy knows where I can find my father, he thought. it was a simple, little thought. Of course, Crusk didn't know Anx's name, since he came down after the both of them introduced themselves. Crusk only knows he was born in Bixton. His father must have been important to the orcs to be named by them.
He still wanted to find his father, set things straight, and probably lead him home. There was one problem, he didn't know where his father would be.