Log:Broken Blade: Blue Rose Blade

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Kyson returns from a quick errand, stepping into the pub with his satchel laiden with books with the corner of a blue-bound book half-poking out of the open maw of the sack over his shoulder. The tell-tale clack of the butt of his wooden staff impacting the flagstone floor heralds his approach as he steps inside and looks around for a place to sit and continue his work.

By chance or by some other twist of coincidence, Godwyn is already at a table, and she waves him over as soon as she sees him. "Well, come on. We never did finish up, did we?" Her eyes are alight with warmth.

Kyson walks over and eases himself into a chair after dropping what must be an anvil in his bag by the sound it makes striking the surface. The top-most book, the one with the blue binding, spills out and towards Godwyn before Kyson can reach for it. |A history of the Noble Houses of Rune| so says the title. "I'm glad to find you still here m'lady..." he smiles and finishes adjusting himself and his gear to be able to get fairly comfortable. "Can I ask you of your own blade?"


Godwyn places a hand on the hilt of her blade, just at the pommel. "This... is a very special weapon. It's specifically designed to destroy the weapons, armor, and shields of opposing forces without killing them outright. Then if they really are insistent on fighting, it means I have no choice."

Godwyn looks up at Kyson again. "But there's more than that. If the enemy is truly evil and unrepentant, no defense can save them from my great sword." She grins. "None at all..."

Kyson peers curiously, trying not to seem too rude but also fighting with an inner curiosity which seems innate to most wizards. "However did you find it? You said it was old...a family relic perhaps?" The boy's tone is respectful, if strewn with a sense of awe and wonder. Ancient blades are the stuff of arcane archaeology; one of his chosen paths.


Godwyn tilts her head to the right. "You know... she was right. You really do ask questions about everything." Godwyn smiles. "There is a difference between a relic and an heirloom, master Kyson. An heirloom stays in the family, it is something that is passed down from one generation to the next. And with my family..." She lowers her head for a moment. "Let's just say that I don't want anything that's been touched by their hands."

Godwyn clears her throat. "Relics on the other hand do not have to be part of one's family history. They do however have to be old. Age is important. Anything from a bygone era that is still not only intact, but fully functional, can be considered a relic."

Kyson peers, an eyebrow raised in question at the Paladin. "She?" As soon as he asks the question the realization of who the paladin might be referring to crawls into his heaed. "Oh..." he adds as a second thought. Dropping his eyes a bit, his thoughts wander over what it must be like to have a god speak to you so...often. Though he may follow Eluna - at least the way most other Wizards do, he's never actually heard her voice. The definitions she offers are points that he -should- know as an apprentice but probably just forgot in the ferver of his excitement. "When did you acquire it?" he asks turning his attention back to the woman's blade.

Godwyn chuckles and shakes her head before reaching for her weapon and unsheathing it. "If Althea did indeed speak to me... she'd be saying something entirely different than I could imagine. However, someone else does." She places her weapon on the table... and then waits.

After a while, a yawn comes from the metal itself! "Mmmmm... wait, we're... in the Fernwood again?"

Kyson blinks and jerks away from the blade almost instinctually. "It's alive?!" His very unmanly yelp can't be mistaken for anything other than pure shock but he calms down surprisingly quickly for having seen such a sight. One eye opens, then the other and the young man tilts his head to the side, rather owl-like as he leans in a bit to examine the weapon. "My master has such an item...the dragon head of his staff...talks as well." His tone gradually relaxes as though he's convincing himself that there's nothing abnormal about talking items. Nope. Everything's good here. "Does she have a name?" he asks politely.

Godwyn shakes her head. "She doesn't remember her name. I've been trying to get the memory to trigger, but it's not been working." She glances toward the weapon. "I'm going to tell you about her, since I trust you. But you can't go around telling everyone."

Kyson was already pulling out his journal and writing set so that he could record what he was learning about the awakened relic but pauses with the book open and the case half-opened as though he were waiting for permision before putting pen to paper. "You honor me m'lady..." he begins explaining, "...I wish only to understand so that maybe the broken blade that I investigate will somehow become less of an enigma."

Godwyn nods and pauses. "You know what... I think I'll let her speak."

The weapon maintains silence for a few moments, then sighs. "Do you know, good Kyson, the history of the Azure Kingdoms?"

Kyson nods, "I'm familiar but my studies could be better...uh...mistress...ma'am..." he's not really sure of the title to use for a... sword. "Is that where you were forged?"

The sword giggles. "Oh please, no titles. I... was not forged. This sword however, was forged in one of the major cities of the time. In fact, I can tell you exactly where..." She fades on that for a moment, then sighs. "...if I could remember. But then again, the fact that I forget things is my own fault.

"I can't tell you about the beginning of the Kingdoms, or their prime. I can however, tell you how they ended. In fact, I was there... dying, just like my homeland."

Kyson seems a bit confused by that. "How does a sword...die? Were you not always a blade?" The pen continues to scribble upon the page with each new revelation and for as fast as his pen moves he has a remarkably clean hand. Along with his own personal notes, the young wizard has also quickly sketched out the basic shape and any remarkable details of the blade's design.

Dea's voice brightens. "Right in one! I was not always in this form. In fact, I was very much human. Like anyone else. But as I said..." Her demeanor dims again. "...I was dying. It was one of the last battles for the Kingdoms. I saw a good friend of mine, a Sentinel just like Godwyn here, lying right next to me, the sword buried halfway into the soil. I had almost accepted my fate at that point until I saw it." She takes in a breath. "At that point, I put it in my mind that if I were to die, it would be for the Matron."

Godwyn says nothing as the sword continues her story. "I knew not how... until I heard someone calling for survivors. I used what strength I could to pray to Althea, ask if he was of malicious intent. She assured me he was not, and so I called to him for aid. Not of the healing sort, though. I wanted him to transfer me, my spirit and my mind, into the sword." Dea (Adamantine Great Sword) The guard and parrying rings are of silver. The pommel is the only distinctive feature, in the shape of a silver rose bud, closed

Kyson peers curiously at the blackened metal of the greatsword and listens intently. As realization dawns that the voice - the 'soul' of the blade once walked upon two legs - the pen falls from his hand. "By the Mother..." he exclaims and it takes him a while to come back to his senses. After a few breaths, he plucks the pen back into his fingers and continues to write. "Were you also a sentinel then?" His question comes quickly in a barrage of others that seem to blur together. "Have you met other...uh...awakened blades like yourself?"

Godwyn shakes her head. The weapon however responds. "I am but a humble Hearthguard. One with twenty two years of life, and many, many more of... experience. I could see, I could hear, I could think... I could feel. But over time, my memory of events faded as time blurred. My ability to speak diminished. I could only use my emotions and my will... and I did so to get out of what is now Charnese territory."

The young wizard nods and scribbles the word 'Charn' in large, bold letters on the page. "So you have had many users over the years - but I wonder - what would happen if your blade were damaged." Perhaps not the most polite of questions but it's something that has direct importance to his own research. "I can sense only echoes of the magics once held by the blade...but if you slept within your..uh...home...then perhaps the enchantments are just doing the same." So now he's into the theory-rambling stage but at least Dea has got him thinking. "You have been most helpful...uh...Sentinel."


Godwyn chuckles. "I didn't even say anything." She peers at the young man for a moment... well, not too much younger than she is.

GAME: Godwyn rolls Sense Motive: (6)+15: 21 to Kyson Godwyn pages: Trustworthiness check. Also, seeing if he really believes her or not.

Godwyn gives a nod. "Well then, I trust you won't tell anyone else. And for the record, I've met Cesran and his partner. Rest assured, I understand exactly where you're coming from. In fact, I should have guessed earlier... you are much like him in a few regards."

The sword fell silent for a moment, then sounded a bit frail. "I... I don't know. All I know is that adamantine is not easy to damage. At all. It's why I picked the weapon. The only thing that can break it is something of equal make. And even then, I have a spell to counter it."

Kyson hrms, "That's what I suspected as well... Master Cesran said that there was probably a battle - between two knights carrying blades of equal strength. One was broken - perhps the other as well. Who knows where their remains are now." He leans back a bit and jots down a few more words onto the page before looking up to Godwyn. "You are quite lucky to have such a wondrous weapon."

Godwyn gives a nod. "Well then, you need to find those remains, put the blades back together. Perhaps they have their own stories to tell." She glances toward the weapon. "As for where I got it... you could say that I didn't find her. Perhaps you could say she found me."

Dea giggles. "Indeed! Still, I haven't told you my name. And since I don't remember mine, I'll give you the one our good Sentinel has offered up to me. Dea Favente. Simply call me Dea if that confuses you.""You know we may need to do that..." Godwyn glances toward the sword. "How about it? Would you like to try?"

Kyson quirks his head to the side, again in an owl-like manner, "Favor of the Goddess..." he smiles having nearly automatically translating the name. "Fitting...," he adds and nods his head towards the blade - person - intelligence. The manners his mother taught him years ago - how to deal with someone in polite society - failed to cover intelligent items. With a faint glance up to Godwyn he gets a nodd look in his eye - as though he just had an idea. "M'lady, would you mind if I were to show Dea the blade shard I am investigating?"

Dea hummed for a moment. "Well then, let's give it a shot."

"You know we may need to do that..." Godwyn glances toward the sword. "How about it? Would you like to try?"

Kyson reaches into his satchel and withdraws a bundle of blue cloth. The parcel is about as long as his forearm and tied with a spun cord of yellow-gold silk. It takes a while to unwind and unwrap the bundle but after few folds, the cloth is revealed to be more than just a blanket. The blue cloth is the tattered remains of a flag of the Kingdom of Rune. Within it is the fragment of a longsword, only the hilt remaining. Long since inert, the blade holds only echoes and shadows of its former power. "This..." he explains though his bare hand does not touch the weapon, "...is my mystery."

Dea pauses as the shard is presented to her... and hums again. "Quite the mystery. Mithral in make... The noticeable differences are the cross guard and the hilt. Though to be honest, I would not go any further than that. The rest is conjecture and assumption, and Matron forbid I do anything of the sort."

Godwyn gestures toward Dea. "Please try anyway."

Dea hums again... and pauses for a few more moments. "I'm sorry... I don't have the spells to determine what all this is exactly. Or where it's from. I do however know that there's supposed to be a crest there. It may have been removed, or magicked into hiding." Echoes of arcane magic, both of the Summoning and of the Necromantic spheres resonate within the blade. Dormant for years, decades even, the magic is still felt by those who know how to detect it. The long sword's hilt, adorned with a pair of golden wings, seem to indicate that it was once the property of a knight. The crest of the owner, which should be placed between the wings, is conspicuously missing. One main force which resides within the blade - even to this day, is the axiomatic alignment. It was a blade forged to combat chaos - to stand as an example of law and order.

Dea gasps. "Wait! This aura..." A light almost comes from the weapon. Perhaps a sign of her having a realization. "This weapon was meant to battle the forces which would undo society. It is a weapon of justice, of order. This definitely belonged to those knights we were talking about earlier."

Kyson flinches, recoiling sharply as the sword calls out. As the blackened metal somehow starts to glow he pulls back uncertain what is happening. "Uh..." he begins, "...ok...and that's good, right?" There is no discernable difference between the light or the dark within the blade. In truth it -could- be a weapon to impose the will of structured evil upon the world - or defend against it. There is almost no way to know - or at least none known to Kyson. "Can you tell anything else about it, Dea?"

Dea sighs. "Do forgive me, but I can't sense any evil or good on it. Only the drive to defend order. What kind of order would depend on the one wielding it. I however... I stand on the side of good, no matter what. I am a Hearthguard, after all."

About the size of a dagger, the broken blade's shiney, silvery metal reflects nearly every light source around it. Lanterns, candles or any other illumination seems to amplify its own brightness. As the two watch the 'interaction' of the two swords, seems to jostle in Kyson's hand. The blade simply falls to the table under his hand - maybe an inch or two, but the presumed 'clank' is as clear as the the high-piched chime of a bell struck with a hammer. The chime is louder than one might expect, loud enough to get the attention of most people near their table. Kyson looks surprised. He didn't 'accidentally' drop it. It moved - or so he would think. "What just happened?" he asks anyone who might listen.

Godwyn blinks. Dea falls silent for a moment, then said in a whisper... "It's responded. It *remembers*." She takes in a breath. "I know because that's how I am when I remember something."


Godwyn leans forward, still silent, then looks over at Kyson. "I'm going to come right out and say it. Listen for the voice of this weapon. It *has* to have one. The fact that it reacted like that says something big. I don't know what, but it just does." Kyson is a bit startled, thinking for a moment that the broken blade might actually have 'thoughts' in there. "What do I do...what do I do?" he asks confusedly. The young wizard's tone is a bit high for a young man but he was startled so it's ok.

Godwyn places a hand on his right shoulder. "Nothing for now. But..." She smiles. "I understand. You should have seen me when I first found out Dea could speak. I ran for the hills. Me, a Paladin, running!" She laughs, and Dea giggles. "And then there's the empathy. I can... *feel* what she's feeling. And right now, she's so sure of herself that I'm sure too. Keep exposing thsi weapon to things. Anything, everything. You have no idea what will trigger its memory, so try anything at all. And get this weapon put back in order. If my guess is correct... it *misses* its other half. Tangibly. Emotionally."

Kyson hrms audibly and slowly uses the cloth of the flag to pick the blade back up once more. "I know that Master Cesran has planned to use a scrying spell to find the other half of the weapon - but I have a feeling that it's probably buried somewhere on a forgotten battlefield in Rune." He starts to wrap the sword fragment once more and asks, "If I can find the location - would you care to accompany me m'lady?"

Godwyn gets to her feet and sheathes her sword. "Pardon me... a prior arrangement has come up. But yes. I will come with you, only because I mean to see this story settled. Now that I've been there for its beginning, I must be there for its end." She bows and turns on her heel. "Matron guide you."