A good blade

 ”It will be done Magister” I rasp, taking the sword presented to me.  Four voices repeat the same pharse as they are each presented with their equipment specifically issued for this mission.  Swords for myself and a warlock, orbs for the priest and two mages.  I take a practice swing to feel it’s weight and let the blade spin about the palm of my hand.  It is a sturdy weapon, highly functional and I notice faint wisps of energy collecting at the edges.  These weapons are infused with arcane power that should give us an advantage for this, my most difficult mission to date.  Exchanging glances with the others I exit the temple, “Let’s go”

We move with purpose through the forest but the land is surreal.  Everything around us is cast in a shade of amber and there is an absolute dead calm.  No leaves rustling in the trees, not even the slightest hint of movement.  My companions notice the change in atmosphere and come to a stop.  I wave my hand in front of me and draw my fingertips together, trying to touch the stillness.   “Appropriate” I think to myself, “the calm before the storm.  It will be a big one and it’s almost upon us”  Thick black clouds rolling in from the horizon bristling with electric energy confirm my speculation.  The forest however, is far from silent.  In the stillness we are overcome with the sound of clicking.  Soft at first until my mind registers it, then it envelops us.  Imagine the echo of a single pin being dropped on a table, then another, and another until all around you ten thousand pins are falling.  It is the sound of the undead that wander the scar to Silvermoon.  Their bones grinding together as they walk, the dull clicks of bone against the metal of their armor and the rocks they walk on.  We are close.  I listen to the metal sliding along the scabbards as I ready my pair of swords.  I can hear rustling as the others in my party prepare themselves for battle.  We continue, building speed as we get closer to the enemy, my comrades stealthily on my heals.  The treeline breaks and the tainted scar lies before us teaming with my scourge cousins.  I charge the nearest skeleton, my swords deliver it from it’s cursed existence and I move on to the next one.  I can sense waves of heat and cold as bolts of magical destruction streak past my head and connect with their targets.  This is the most direct route to Deatholme and should provide us with a nice workout.  Two more miles straight up the scar and we’ll be right at the city gates.

BOOM!! The thunder is so loud we can feel it’s concussion reverberating in our lungs.  Rain falling in sheets makes seeing anything beyond ten feet nearly impossible. For an instant a tower appears before of us, brilliantly illuminated by a bolt of lighting and just as quickly it fades into nothingness.  This tower is the headquarters for Dar’Kahn Drathir, the powerful leader of the scourge forces still trying to finish off Silvermoon City.  Getting here was the easy part.  Now it is time to take things seriously.  I swap one of my swords for the added protection of a shield and we head down the dark steps to the chambers below.  Hall by hall, room by room we clear the building of its guards. 

Standing at the top of the last stairwell I can see Drathir, surrounded by six of his most loyal champions.  Silently communicating orders with hand signals I point to the youngest in our group who nods in understanding.  Without fear he nonchalantly walks halfway down the stairs and loudly clears his throat “Pardon me but I’m looking for the wine cellar… Ooops! Sorry” and runs full speed back up the stairs.  “KILL HIM!” The six champions all charge, only to be frozen in place as soon as they enter the hallway, falling quickly to a flurry of blades and magic.  Realizing his mistake Drathir looks at me hatefully, following my progress down the stairs.  He sneers, “You realize that even you and your gang of schoolchildren can’t possibly defeat me”  Fanning around the room the group positions themselves.  This scourge is a full head taller than me.  Now standing only about three feet away from him, I have to look up at to maintain eye contact.  “We shall see” I say, slapping my shield with the blade of my sword, “Let’s play!” 

My opening attack is met with the “Klang” of metal on metal as he parries with his staff and counterattacks.  A loud crack on my shield saves me from one strike but he reverses and lands a crushing blow to my midsection, audibly snapping two of my ribs.  Then he holds out his hand causing incoming shadowbolts and fireballs to disintegrate at his  fingertips as he resists their magical energies, but one frostbolt gets through.  Now chilled, he can’t react as quickly and the other spells start to find their mark.  All the while i’m engaging him in hand to hand combat thrusting and parrying, I’m amazed at how skillfully he defends against five attackers at once.  Then I can feel my broken ribs fusing together and the pain is suddenly gone.  Dar’Khan senses the renewed strength in my attacks and directs his attention to the young priest who had just healed me.  His eyes roll to the back of his head and he is softly chanting some ancient spell.  Hands glowing as he focuses mana into something far more deadly.  “I don’t think so” I say as I smash him in the face with my shield.  This brings him out of his trance right as my sword bites in to the side of his arm.  Infuriated, the scourge lord spins in a full circle adding momentum to his swing as he pours all his strength into the blow.  Fortunately I see it coming and have my shield raised and ready to take the impact but when it hits I feel like i’ve been punched by an anvil.  He smashes into my shield with enough force to lift me off my feet and I land with a thump on the other side of the room.  “You insolent FOOL! You won’t have a chance to try that again” he sneers, raising his arms above his head, his hands glow again gathering and focusing mana.  Understanding that the deathbolt he is summoning will be directed at me I raise my sword and unleash the energy stored within it.  A bright purple ribbon of energy springs from my blade and strikes him through his chest.  “NOW!” I yell and my party responds, four more blasts of energy converge.  “NOOOO!!” he yells.  The arcs of magic still sapping his strength make him look almost like a spider who’s legs are made of purple lightning.  Greatly weakened, he falls to his knees.  I act immediately, dropping my shield I bring both hands to my sword and swing, catching him perfectly across the neck.  His body slumps to the floor and his head rolls harmlessly to the feet of the warlock who shrieks “EWWWW!  You take it!” and kicks it to me… 

“Excellent work, all of you” The magister compliments us with genuine warmth in his eyes.  “You’ve done it!  Now please everyone step forward and claim your reward.  You have all earned it for your service to the king”  He opens the cover of a sealed armory locker and shows us several different weapons of extraordinary quality.  “I’ll take that one” I say pointing to a beautifully ornate two handed sword.  Far more elaborate than any other blade that I’ve seen, the metal is forged with streaks of orange and crimson in a pattern that gives it the appearance of fire streaked with blood.  “I expected you would enjoy this one.  Sin’dorei Warblades are a favorite amongst warriors.   It is rare for one of your kind to be awarded such a luxury, so carry it with pride”  To my surprise I do swell pride as he hands it to me.  ”What is this?” I think to myself, uneasy at this sudden burst of emotion.  I so rarely have them any more because emotions are nonsense for the living.   Yet I can’t help but flash back to my awakening recalling that pitted out piece of rust that was my first weapon.  Now I hold the finest sword I’ve ever owned.  Much lighter than I expected, the mirrored edge of the blade almost sings as it slices through the air.  “Pithius! You’ve helped cement the bond between my race and yours.  Now take the traitor’s head to the Regent Lord Lor’themar Theron in Silvermoon City.  He’ll be eager to hear the news”  “Yes Magistrate, it will be done” I reply, saluting him.  He returns the salute and I start the walk back to Silvermoon City, smiling with confidence as I walk down the road conscious of the weight of the fine new blade sheathed on my back. 

~ by pithias on April 6, 2007.