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Fantasy テンブレード: The Ten Blades

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Jigajig

Senior Member
darkstone-png.877841

The sun shone down upon Darkstone a busting town of activity. A beautiful day indeed. Once again the streets were filled with the sounds of it denizens going about their daily lives and business.

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Darkstone is known for it's massive underground dungeon and mining exports. Under the town is a massive labyrinth filled with many precious ores and gems but also quite a lot of monsters. The town is filled with everything someone could want from, Blacksmiths, to Inns, to churches, pubs, theatres, a bathhouse and spa.

The main attraction of course is the massive building slap bang in the middle of the town. The Guild Hall in which where people can join or create a guild and then venture down into the labyrinth below. It also functions as a bank and the main shopping area for the town, each floor having various shops and such for all those brave souls who want to venture forth down into the dungeons below them.

The Dragons Head Inn, upon the second floor of the Guild Hall was brimming with all sorts of adventurers, some resting up after having been down below inside the dungeons, others preparing themselves for the up and coming battles ahead. Others were merely getting drunk, having a good time and wasting away the hours.

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Three miles to the South a lone figure was traversing a long dusty road towards the town. The sun beat down upon them as they trekked along the road, a gentle breeze blowing past them every now and then, kicking up some dust as it swirled around their feet. Glancing about they pressed on, the looming tower of the Guild Hall in the distance, casting dark shadow upon the track.
 
Damian of Harwell sat on a young colt, staring straight up ahead at the Darkstone. It was a hot day and Damian was rather sweaty already. Despite being the sole heir to Harwell and being able to practically do anything of his desire, Damian knew that it would be a poor decision to take off his armor. His armor was his pride, the thing that kept him safe from numerous assassins. It was the thing that symbolized his status as the heir of the Harwell kingdom.

Glancing in the distance, Damian saw the town up ahead. Turning to face three knights that silently rode behind him, Damian lightly tugged at the reins, halting the brown-haired colt.

”I can handle myself at Harwell. I’m the wielder of Hinoken. Return to Harwell. Inform Father and Mother of my safe arrival. Make Harwell proud.” His voice was cold and detached, calm. His knights gave him a small bow, before turning their horses around and galloping off into the distance, leaving small clouds of dust behind. Damian scowled. If this place was Harwell, there wouldn’t be as much dust.

Dismounting, Damian figured that it would be safest to walk on foot. Sitting on a horse would make him too vulnerable to archers. He knew that people were after Hinoken. Running his fingers over the blade, which hung from his belt, Damian grinned. Yes. He would bring honor, glory, back to the kingdom of Harwell. He could feel it already in his veins.

Hearing the sound of hooves, Damian turned around and saw three horses, with three men riding, charging at him. Damian scowled. Traitors. They wanted Hinoken for themselves, didn’t they? Placing his right hand on Hinoken’s hilt, he pulled the sword out of his belt, holding it with two hands. He held it tighter than ever. Three opponents at once? Damian had trouble handling two of them. Regardless, this was a life or death situation, not a training exercise.

”Come at me, cowards!” Damian exclaimed. The young colt, startled by the sudden change of its surroundings, bucked, before running off into the distance. Damian scowled.

”Damn it,” Damian muttered, running to find cover. Hiding behind a hill of some sort, Damian watched the colt suddenly collapse from a distance. Damian scowled. These knights weren’t taking any risks.

Damian started walking towards the town cautiously, constantly looking behind him, to see if they were coming closer. Soon, he heard the sound of hooves and turned around, getting into a defensive stance.

The knights dismounted from their horses. Damian assumed that there was a sly smile under those awful-looking helmets. He studied their armor. From the looks of it, the armor definitely wasn’t made by dwarves. Good. That was the type of luck he needed.

“Listen Prince Damian. We just want Hinoken.” One of the knights stepped forwards, holding out a hand to take the sword. Damian presumed that he was the foolish leader

”You’re surrounded too,” another knight added, chuckling a bit. Damian assumed that he was the dumb one. The extra stupid one.

The boy scowled.

”You know that the sword only responds to certain people. I won’t be giving it up. Do you truly think of me as a simpleton? A fool?“ Damian replied, studying their postures. From the look of their stances, they were off guard, unprepared. Good.

”You’re a kid. I think you fail to remember that,” the knights said in unison, guffawing at his remark. Damian took this moment as a time of distraction and lunged at one of them, sending a powerful blow to his dominant arm. The knight howled in pain, stumbling backwards.

The other two, suddenly realizing that Damian was attacking them, charged at him. Damian sent a kick at one of them, while slicing the other one with Hinoken. When his sword made contact with the cheap armor, he saw sparks fly. Good. Damian grinned. The sliced knight collapsed onto the ground, groaning in pain.

”Eat ash, fools!” Damian said, thrusting his sword into the remaining knight. He watched the sword enter the belly of the fool. Damian enjoyed it.

“Feel the burn,” Damian whispered, before pulling the sword out and pointing it at the others. They seemed terrified at a minimum.

”I am Damian of Harwell, heir to the kingdom of Harwell. Do not mess with me ever again.” Damian turned to face the city and walked away, being sure to kick some extra dust into the faces of the remaining survivors. He felt good. Proud of himself. He wasn’t even giving the two an honorable death. Just shame that they had been defeated by him.

Damian saw the city better now. It was alive, bustling with more people than he could count. He didn’t like being in proximity with so many people.

Eyeing a bakery, Damian grinned and walked towards it. Fishing some coins out of his pocket, he got himself a pastry bun with red berries, leaving a generous tip. He was hungry after all of that. Looking around for the Guild Hall, Damian finally found the building after pushing past countless of people. A few people looked at him strangely, most likely because it was an unusual sight to see a boy in armor. Well, they ought to get used to it.

Kicking open the door with a highly unnecessary grandeur, Damian looked inside and found a pair of stairs, wandering to the second level automatically. According to his studies, the second floor was the Dragons Head Inn, a place where fine warriors roamed. Damian looked around. Some of them looked like fine warriors. Others looked wasted. Pushing aside the wasted ones, Damian found himself a seat at an empty table and looked around. Perhaps, he would find a fellow sword wielder here. Just maybe.
 
Murakami no Haruna
Rural Villagestead ~ Darkstone Proximate
Early morning...
Gaius Danius Griinia Gaius Danius Griinia
Haruna laid upon a bedding of straw, dozing off well into the waking hours of the peasantry. She was never in a rush to get up and attend the morning rituals, which is why not even the village's early bustle had caused her to stirr. Lazily, the Sun's rays intruded through a partially open sliding door, and caressed her face gently with their heat. The girl groaned, still in a state of half-sleep, half-wakefulness. She turned on her side, supporting her head by sliding a fist underneath. Sighing, she eyed the room around her, hoping to delay her own desire for action as much as possible. It was plain and simple, a rectangular floor of tatami mats surrounded by two hollowed-out closet walls and two sliding doors made of bamboo. A single painting hung on the western wall, small and barely noticeable. When squinting from her position in the room's middle, Haruna could make out a tree standing on a hill, looming over a farmer of sorts. The opposite wall supported no decoration, though an ornate looking chest stood inside of it. That chest held all of the hermit's belongings, and it was the only thing tying her back to her past.

Finally deciding to start her day, she tossed the blanket covering her body aside and sat on her knees. Rubbing her eyes thoroughly, first she performed a series of stretches, which appeared more like a traditional dance taking place in slow-motion. Once these were done, the girl hopped onto her feet and moved on to get dressed, donning a modest kimono and styling her hair in the usual fashion. Then there raised itself the question of breakfast. Regrettably, she had missed her chance to eat together with her hosts as always. Her stomach rumbled, perhaps more upset with her laziness than her brain was. Coming in from the nearby forests, the annoying buzzing of the cicadas bode the girl to figure out anything else other than blindly staring out into the distance. It dawned on her that she'd have to visit an inn or a tavern, not for her own sake, but... At least it was nice outside, if a bit too hot for her liking.

Stepping out the door, she found herself in the midsts of hurrying farmers and blooming greenery. Traditional houses with sloping roofs dotted a hillside beneath a larger mountain, following a winding dusty road as it disappeared past the horizon. Together with emerald bushes and knee-high grasses, ancient oak trees cast their mighty shadows over throngs of peasants rushing to their duties for the day. Some held tools swung over their shoulders, some led oxen at their side, and others yet tagged along as assistance empty-handed. At the hillock's bottom, many were already working a number of large fields, mostly by eliminating weeds and planting new rows of spring crops. Completely oblivious to the dangers looming over their future, these workers seemed to live only in the present moment. Their work brought them fulfillment, something Haruna admired though didn't envy. At the end of the day, it was their poor conditions which had partly fuelled her resentment for her family's excess. Had she not pitied them, she wouldn't be living among them. She also wouldn't be so strapped for resources, but thankfully that meant little to a self-proclaimed hermit.

Turning in the direction of the house she had left, she called out loudly in a deadpan voice, "we're leaaaving!" She didn't feel the need to add anything else, instead squatting next to the dried-up footpath and drawing symbols in the dust. Through the whole ordeal, she felt like she was missing something - something integral. However, she couldn't quite place her finger on it, and so she drew more images instead. From little bits of religious text, to ritual symbols and the hilt of her--

"Oh, right. My sword, huh?"
 
Darkstone a city full of those that thought themselves heroes, Syla would not be welcome here normally. Despite what these people thought they were no heroes, they were not just, nor good, they were as much the monsters as those they hunted. The re was no other word for those fools that came to Islokya thinking they would be the one to cleanse the swamp. What allowed Syla to move among the people that would normally hunt her was her cloak under it's magic she did not seem a monster instead she seemed an old woman. Her back hunched her hair wild and grey, her face covered in countless wrinkles. The cloak itself looked like what a beggar might have. Thus did a monster slip into the city of heroes disguised as a beggar that none would look at twice. her sword one of the 10 legendary blades was hidden well hidden behind the illusion of being a walking stick thus none would see anything more than a weak poor old woman that needed a stick to hold herself up.

Syla was looking for those that held the other blades, they were needed now as the undead were swarming. Death was natural, and even the undead were not fully against nature, but this army was different their rampage let nothing grow after them. They were more than an army the land was dead under their feet and would remain so for a very long time. This was a threat that should they be destroyed would linger they must be stopped. The blades were the key to that, that was why they had been made and yet no one had ever thought of a way to call the wielders together. So syla had to play the part of a beggar and search in secret till she found others so they could do what they needed to do.

" A coin for an old woman?" She asked pitifully holding out a shaking hand pretending to be starving as people passed her bay as she stood across the street from the dragon's head inn. " Please have pity for a miserable old woman" She begged another her voice sounding very bit like the wretch she was pretending to be. All the while she watched those that entered expecting the wielders to congregate here and make themselves known through wisdom and power.
 
Forest Trees, Dancing
Wind Ripples Through the Maple
Its Beauty, Unknown


Placing down his brush and taking a deep breath. Oshtor caught something in his right hand and used it to smack aside the primate that had rudely interruped his haiku. Standing up and turning around. He was met with almost ten more of the disgusting looking simians. Apparently these creatures had been harassing the farmers in the village he and Haru had been staying in. Having decided to take care of them on his own. Oshtor had taken a bit more of Haru's blood than usual to give him an extra boost. Putting that extra boost to good use. Oshtor blocked a rock that had been tossed his way and brought the metallic object in his hand down on the throwers skull, obliterating it. This seemed to surprise the rest of them. Smiling and opening up the object, Oshtor revealed it to be a Tessen. Waving it in front of his face like a blushing maiden, he taunted his opponents. This fan had been a gift from an old veteran. He had noticed that Oshtor seemed to carry no weapon and offered one of his own. As he used the fans hidden blades to slice a monkey in two, he noted that he DID have a weapon.

Oshtor had awoken with only his name and a sword. The Yami no Ken was the closest thing he had to reminder of his past. Despite its large size, it felt light as a feather in his hand. Its dark powers seemed perfectly natural to Oshtor, who wielded them with something resembling muscle memory. Though even he tended to notice how much attention the sword garnered. Apparently it was some kind of legendary weapon from a bygone era. Which only complicated matters when traveling. So he tended to hide it within a magic bag that a Wizard gave him. Pulled from his reverie, Oshtor noticed a group of beasts attempt to rush him. Leaping over them and slicing their legs. He gleefully watched them cry out in pain. Bringing his leg back, he kicked them all into the air. Opening his fan and dancing between the falling apes. He bisected each as they fell. Juggling the weapon from hand to hand as he approached the final beast. Watching as it leapt at him in desperation. Oshtor slapped it aside with his fan before crushing its neck with his foot.

Returning to the village with good news. Oshtor was rewarded for his efforts with a bit of coin and some supplies. He attempted to return the Tessen after cleaning it but the Old Man insisted he keep it. Smelling Haru nearby, he took his leave. Noticing she had forgotten her own magic sword. Oshtor sighed and picked it up. He couldn't use it since it had chosen Haru but he could at least return it. Waiting in a tree until she had noticed the absence of her sword. He threw it to her and gave her a cheeky wink. Jumping down and greeting his traveling companion. Oshtor seemed content to follow in whatever direction Haru thought they should travel today...

Glassred Glassred
 
Guillaume Bonneau

Guillaume slowly lowered his hand to the table, touching the surface with his fingers. He moved them up until they hit a porcelain cup. He held the cup and drank the coffee from it, sighing. It had been a full week since he had arrived at Darkstone, and he had met with roughly a dozen mineralogists, none of which knew what he had. It was such an enigma... not even the wizards of Razul knew what it was, or they refused to answer. Perhaps the scholars of Kra would have answers, but the elders of the Council told him to go here, to Darkstone. He didn't understand why they told him to come here, sure the town was significant in the way of mining export, but surely the grand libraries of Kra would have something to help him. He tapped his fingers on the table impatiently, at least the town reminded him of the academy. The halls were always busy with excited students showing their friends new spells they've learned, the libraries and labs were filled with researchers sharing their findings, and just like there, the only place he could find a modicum of peace and quiet was in a cafe. He sat there, thinking, feeling the breeze and listening to the footsteps of the busy adventurers and townsfolk.
Then an idea struck. Maybe he needed a different angle to look at this mystery gem.
"A coin for an old woman? Please have pity for a miserable old woman."
He finished his coffee, dusted off his coat, and went into the cafe, and a moment later he came out with a box filled with an assortment of pastries. He walked towards the old woman, his cane tapping the ground every so often. He stopped, a little too far for expected social interaction.
"Excuse me, elder. I have a mystery to solve, and I think a new perspective would help, perhaps we could chat over breakfast?" He asked, lifting the box to show it, "We could speak here, or, I have a table at the cafe, if you prefer." He offered, with a gentle smile.
 
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Sujime trekked through the woods, the tall building of Darkstone's guild hall towering over the trees as a beacon to ensure she continued in the right direction. Her brown cloak hung loosely around her shoulders, covering the basic shirt and pants she wore underneath. The teenager had been raised in the relative wilderness and she felt comfortable there. She could fend for herself with little worry and need not fear social interactions; something she felt very awkward with due to being raised by a single, mostly-silent man in the wilderness. Part of her nervousness in that arena also stemmed from her mixed heritage and the looks she received when she had been to towns prior. Of course, with an inexperience in reading people, she couldn't be sure what the looks she'd gotten really meant, but she worried people didn't like her for being mixed. Sujime had been traveling for a few days and figured she'd arrive at the city soon.

Sujime didn't understand why she needed to go to Darkstone at all. Her grandfather had ordered her to go in order for her to join a guild and gain true combat experience. She'd been training with a sword longer than she'd been able to walk, never once needing to leave her grandfather's side, but now, seemingly all of a sudden, she had to venture across the country alone to continue her training. As if all of that wasn't weird enough, her grandfather had insisted that she take his sword as well as her own. Her sword was excellent quality and there was no reason she couldn't find a suitable replacement in the city of Darkstone, if the need arose. She didn't argue, simply taking the sword and attaching it to her belt, just below her own blade.

In truth, Sujime was quite excited to have some adventures and make friends. While her mind wondered about all of the neat people she'd meet and interact with, she accidentally found herself out in the open. Looking around, she realized that she had wandered onto a road, something she'd been trying to avoid. She was a bit bewildered and worried people would see her, turning to her left, she saw a cloaked person just a few feet away. It seemed to be a masked person, going towards Darkstone, just like her. It was too late to leap back into the woods, she'd certainly been seen. With a nervous wave, Sujime apologized "Sorry to get in your way," and backed up a step, allowing the individual to pass her by.

Jigajig Jigajig
 
Syla was a bit surprised that someone actually noticed her beyond a passing glance or a tossed coin. That was why she had come in this guise if she wanted attention she would come with beauty and power to easily gain what she wanted. That was not the best idea she wanted information and she assumed the anki had spies those loyal to death above all else so being flashy would only pant a target on her back. The man that spoke to her was clearly not suspecting he spoke to a monster, or that he spoke to a wielder of one of the 10 blades, that was good her disguise worked well. Still what question could the man have that he thought an old woman might hold the answer to? Syla did not know if this was a trap, yet if it was baiting her with food over money did not make sense. The common understanding was even if someone begged for food they would spend it on something far less savory. This was true of all places even her home, though the swamp had other uses for the poor that normal palaces did not. Syla guessed the young man was not actually trying to figure out who she was and actually had a question. His explanation made sense if you could not answer a question find another to think at it in another way. It did not help her judgment that Syla was in fact actually rather hungry coming in the guise of a beggar did not make it easy to gain the money of this land and the money of her home would not be taken.

" You don't have to stand so far away, i don't think my old teeth would let me bite you " She said with a self deprecating laugh. If you played off your piteous state as a joke people felt even more for you. " Though I won't say no to food and a place to sit for a bit, a chair is much nicer than the ground and sweets better than a rat" She said having had to eat a few of those after coming here when she did not have the energy to grow something from their bodies.

Skyrte Skyrte
 
As the lone figure made their way down the road they gazed up at the sky, seemingly muttering to themselves. It wasn't before long that their gaze shifted quickly however, sensing movement to their side. Turning their head to look they say before them someone else. It looked to be someone who had just wandered onto the road from the treeline to the right. Cocking their head to the side the masked figure looked at the woman before them, the two black pits of the masks seemingly boring into the other woman's eyes. She was observing her taking in their appearance. They stood taller than the figure and were dressed in simple light garbs.

They were quick to note that this person had a rather interesting appearance. It seemed they were of mixed race and blood. Orc and.. Elf? Her skin had a slight greenish hue to it. Certainly an interesting sight to say the least. When they spoke to her and offered a little wave the figure rose her hand and waved back before bowing slightly. "No need to apologise, this road is wide enough for the both of us." She motioned towards Darkstone. "Are you heading to the town as well?"

Phineas Forge Phineas Forge
 
Murakami no Haruna
Rural Villagestead ~ Darkstone Proximate
Smell of Blood and Simian...
Gaius Danius Griinia Gaius Danius Griinia
Lazily, Haruna looked in the direction of the Ceremonial Sword as it hit the ground. Causing the eruption of a cloud of dust, it made a mess of a few symbols that the girl had traced onto the footpath. Her gaze slowly shifted between it and the tree it had flown from, extending an arm out to pick up the object and sliding it behind her obi. Still squatting, she sniffed the breeze blowing in her direction, a brief look of repulsion flashing across her face. The oncoming stench bothered her, especially since its source was one reeking, tree-bound vampire. Before she could say anything, said vampire descended from the branches and offered her a greeting, further intensifying her olfactory displeasure. Muttering something to herself, she reached into a small pouch hanging by her side, fishing out a crumpled piece of paper depicting the crude outline of a pointy-eared man.

"Morning," she mumbled, walking over to a short berry bush and picking a single crimson fruit. "Good deeds done in appaling ways," the hermit spoke, while crushing the berry and colouring in about twenty percent of the drawing with its vibrant dye. "If only intent spun the karmic wheel, then perhaps there wouldn't be so much trouble with you." Haruna looked the vampire straight in the eyes, though any effect faded due to her permanently languid expression. She had pretty much become his caretaker, letting him stay at her side for a reason unknown to her. She told herself that by keeping him close, she was protecting the world at large from a small-scale calamity, but that discounted all the troublemakers that weren't taken under her wing. More pressingly, she was pretty convinced that he had just murdered an entire tribe of monkeys, an unnatural shove into Balance which couldn't go unnoticed.

"We're headed to Darkstone... for brunch," the girl broke her chain of thoughts, letting her last two words be consumed by a yawn. "You could start making up for today's misbehaviour by treating us both, because..." She stared into her open pouch, tossing the piece of paper back inside. As expected, notably missing from its contents was any kind of coin. This had happened enough times by now, that she felt no need to further comment on the matter. Instead, she picked a few more berries from the bush, stuffed them into her mouth and set off for the nearby town.

"Also by taking a bath," she added, mouth still full of fruit.
 
Guillaume Bonneau
With Karcen Karcen

"You don't have to stand so far away, I don't think my old teeth would let me bite you," The elder replied with a laugh.
"Ah, my apologies." Guillaume gave his own, polite chuckle accompanied with a bashful smile.
"Though I won't say no to food and a place to sit for a bit, a chair is much nicer than the ground and sweets better than a rat."
"I won't object to that, come on, it's not far." Guillaume replied, he walked back to the cafe, tapping his cane against the floor every second or so. The cafe was a quaint place, made of stone brick walls and decorated with wood, with large windows in the front to let the light in. The front had a few metal and wooden chairs and tables, a few patrons already sat in and outside of the cafe, too tired to interact with others or having stayed all night with a hot cup of coffee brew with paperwork in front of them. It was quiet here, as the busy atmosphere changed from hustle and bustle to calm, slow, filled with the aromas of teas, coffees, and freshly baked pastries to go along with them. Guillaume eventually tapped the leg of a chair and felt for its edge, then felt for his empty coffee cup. It was his table, finally, after a moment of searching. He pushed the second chair away from the table with his cane, pulling the chair out for the elder that had come with him, and he placed the box of breakfast on the table. He sat in his own chair, leaning the cane against the armrest and opened the box, revealing a wide assortment of orange rolls, lemon rolls, cream cheese danishes, fruit tarts, walnut breads, croissants, spinach and cheese pinwheels, and even meat pies.
"Ah! Mr. Bonneau, y-... you have a guest?" A girl said, she had a notebook and an apron on, and wore the same color as the cafe's banner, signifying her as a cafe worker.
"Hello again Miss Trotter." Guillaume said, looking in the general direction of the waitress. She had a nametag on, with Kyra written on it. "We were just about to discuss the mysteries of Minerology and lengths a researcher must go to push the boundaries of knowledge."
Kyra Trotter merely looked at the man with a raised eyebrow, "You have a problem and you need help."
Guillaume smiled, "In a nutshell, yes. Perhaps I'll have a cup of Earl Grey this time, with sugar and milk." he turned back to the elder, "I suppose you know my name already, but I should introduce myself anyways. I am Guillaume Bonneau of Razul, what would you like to drink with your breakfast?"
 
"Sometimes I wonder how you'd survive without me, Haru" said Oshtor as he rubbed the back of his neck. Although she may have exaggerated how bad he may have smelled. Perhaps a bit of bathing would do well for his spirits. Although they were in an area where steam baths were much more common than regular baths. So Oshtor decided to quickly dip into a stream for some much needed cleaning. Having been around Haru for long enough. He really didn't care if she saw him naked. Cycling through his scented self-care products. He picked a nice hair cleanser that smelled faintly of honeycomb. Cleansing his flesh of the reek obtained via dealing with pets. Oshtor also made sure to check over his armor for any damage. Though like usual, there was none. Mithril was only second to Orichalcum in terms of strength. He also had no idea how he had come across such high quality gear. Amnesia was a hell of a thing. Noticing something sniffing his Hammerspace Bag. Oshtor found himself staring at the largest pig he had ever seen.

It was larger than a bear with tusks like daggers. The moment they locked eyes, the forest seemed to fall silent. Getting out of the water and making his way to the pig. He pulled out some mushrooms he found the other day. Offering them to the animals. The pig took a quick whiff of the food. Eating it out of Oshtors hands like a puppy. It appeared to have enjoyed the meal. Petting the creature on its piggy head, the vampire got an idea. Darkstone was still a little ways away from their current location. Climbing on to the pig and patting its head again. It began moving around. Getting dressed and using some old tarps to make a makeshift saddle. Oshtor rode the pig out to Haru. "Found our ride... its environmentally friendly and beats walking" remarked the happy vampire as he pulled her onto his new swine friend. Digging his heels into its sides. The pig got the pair the rest of the way to Darkstone.

Glassred Glassred
 
" Ah so you want to know about gems well this old woman might know a thing or two" syla said with an old cackle no doubt drawing plenty of eyes.

She was also curious as to what this thing could be such a mystery that all the learned people of this place had no idea what it was could be. This was a bit of a distraction from finding the swords, but it seemed that none of them were making a name for themselves yet and there would be more time to find them before the world was rendered lifeless. Then he asked what she wanted to drink, that was easy enough though she was more eager about the gem or whatever it was.

" i will have what you are having i am sad to say i come from a distant land and we have little trade to know what is good here" syla said not revealing much though perhaps she could get the man to be interested and explain the anki that were invading.

Skyrte Skyrte
 
Guild Hall -The Dragons Head Inn
As the door to the Guild Hall was suddenly kicked open, numerous people turned their heads to look at whoever had decided to just barge in here. When they saw not an adult but a child.. to say there was a few confused faces would of been an understatement. Some mutters here and there would spread amongst the adventurers. When the boy made their way up the spiral staircase to the second level and into the The Dragons Head Inn, once again more or less everyone turned to eye Damian. You got many an odd sort in here, but for a child to enter...? That was new. As Damian found himself a seat at an empty table and looked around he would note that one particular man was looking at him. A giant of a man who stood easily seven foot tall, was built like an outhouse made of bricks and wielded a massive axe.

It was then at that moment a slightly older woman, in her mid thirties approached the young lad with a pad and pencil looking down at him. It was clearly one of the waitresses from her uniform. Looking him over and then to the sword she cocked her head to one side. "Aren't you a little young to be in here..?"

Gish_Sky Gish_Sky
 
Guillaume Bonneau
With Karcen Karcen

Guillaume smiled at the news that the old woman knew gems. Sure, the experts in the city knew about gems and minerals, but they knew the stones that were right there before them. Perhaps the elder in front of him knew of legends and stories, ones that no others knew of, or ones that were forgotten. He also noted that she didn't introduce herself, he decided not to push the matter. Some people were careful to share such things.
"Earl Grey is a good pick of beverage. It's a black tea, so a bit stronger than some teas, and the Earl Grey here has more citrus than what I get at home in Razul. The sugar-" He paused, with an apologetic smile, "I'm getting off track, my apologies. Here." He rummaged through his pack, and pulled out a fist sized blue stone. "This is the subject of my mystery."
It was blue. A more vibrant blue than anything imaginable. Parts of it differing and shifting in color like the differing and shifting depths of the oceans. Deeper blues almost black making it seem endless, and lighter blues dotted with specks of white, that when examined closely, revealed fish and shadows of larger creatures beneath them, swimming through the solid gem. Its glass like shell reflected light, shining in the sun and forming glittering paths on its surface, the teardrop shaped gem seemed alive, breathing, and swaying and in constant motion like the waves on the coast, with the glass shell acting as a lenses to view the oceans within. Then he set it down. And the magical surface of the gem calmed, slowed, and halted, becoming a solid ultramarine blue like color streaked with white like lapis lazuli.
Guillaume rubbed his chin, "I've been told it's similar to lapis, but not exactly, it's hardness is far beyond what lapis lazuli should be, it doesn't fracture or break, it leaves no streak, it looks like lapis but behaves more like crystal, and with an apparent hardness of beyond steel or diamond. I can't see for myself, so I only have their word to rely on." he said, putting his hand back onto the gem, to spin it on the table idly. It exploded with life once more at his touch, a whirlpool forming on its surface as it spun.
 
Syla really could not have ever expected this, she expected a strange rock from somewhere that the civilized folk had heard of. What she had found was not gem, it was a sword. While others might not know it Syla knew one of the 10 when she saw it and no natural gem matched the description of the gem before her. This had to be Mizunoken the staff of water and ice. The question was why had it not taken a form yet? Syla could guess this man might not be a wielder, but the timing was to good, the threads of fate pulling them just right. if Gillaume had to ask what it was then he must not have felt the connection, the power that came when you were one that would wield the blade. That was if he was not mentioning a connection to the blade, perhaps he thought it was part of the gem and not the magic of a blade. This was strange fate was with out a doubt giving them a strange hands the gods moving people where they needed to be. Syla decided she would reveal what the gem was and would see that Gillaume would do, if he could bond with the sword or not.

" I see the problem you went to the wrong people" Syla said shaking her head and scowling as if disapproving " Youngsters these days forget old stories and this is the result" She complained with a sigh. " That is no gem, nothing in nature even in the most magical place is like that. What you have is a sword one of ten made. Well it was more a staff, but Mizunoken is its name, and water is it's element. How could you youngsters not remember the stories of Waizu Kenshi and his creations?" the blade was needed now the visions had come and people had forgotten what it looked like " If you are the one it choses you should feel a connection try to wake it, try to form the staff with your own power" Syla said planing how to get rid of Guillaume should he fail and not be chosen.
 
Guillaume Bonneau
With Karcen Karcen

Guillaume stopped spinning the gem. The old woman was telling him about one of the ten blades that the legendary smith, Waizu Kenshi crafted. That this gem was one of them? But it wasn't even a sword, it was a... strange rock. Guillaume narrowed his brow and lifted the stone close to his closed eyes, as if to examine it.
"But how...?" He thought aloud quietly. Forming the staff? From what? His mind raced, trains of thought started and stopped, confusion set in, and Guillaume found himself moving the gem away from him, shaking his head. "It can't be, it's just a good luck charm." He said.
"A good luck charm that was given to me when I was a child. By the... by the serpent tailed horse, Hippokampoi." Guillaume remembered the massive scale-armored horse, the stone swirled with life, and a misty image of its full state formed, like a ghostly afterimage made of vapor. "...Then the threat of the legend? What the swords were made to fight against? It's real?" Guillaume asked the elder. The staff inched ever closer, but stopped, and the image faded into nothing. "But why would I be picked." He said bitterly, more of a statement, shutting his eyes hard, "I'm no hero, no warrior. I spend my time researching, teaching, learning, not training. I can't even see. This gem is a good luck charm, no legendary weapon."
He paused. His face turning more regretful, than confused and pained. "I have no delusions of grandeur. I know who I am, not a hero. Perhaps if I had my sight, or if I were younger, or if I were stronger... but I am not. I am a quiet professor of the Wizards Tower."
Guillaume took a deep breath and sighed, his voice steeling, "...But if you know, tell me about the threat of the legend. The Mage-Knights of Razul were founded specifically for things such as this, and many mages in many kingdoms learned at the Academy, counselors, advisors, trusted men and women in powerful positions. If the Grand-Elders are convinced of this threat, the people of Creo could be that much more prepared against it." The professor held the gem, rubbing its surface with his thumb, the ocean within still flowed with his touch.
 
Sujime wasn't surprised, per se, by the strangers appearance... but she was surprised that someone who covered their face even while traveling alone would be so nice. For some reason, she assumed there was a correlation between masks and evil. But this Wanderer in front of her hadn't been evil at all, in fact, she seemed to be quite nice. "No, I mean, yes, I'm going to Darkstone, but we don't have to travel together simply because we're going the same direction," she answered. She then realized that she sounded incredibly rude, so before her new acquaintance could began speaking again, she began speaking once more. "I don't mean to sound rude, I just don't want to intrude on your journey. Nor do I wish to slow you down if you need to hurry into Blackstone." Her nervousness and rambling had caused her to incorrectly label the village that she was heading towards, though the young lady didn't notice what she'd done. "But of course, if you'd like some company, I'm not opposed to traveling with you for the short distance ahead. I've never been there before so it may do me well to make friends with someone before I get there."

The young half-orc finally stopped speaking, her eyes looking towards the masked lady in front of her. She began to turn a bit red in the cheeks, her embarrassment at rambling getting the better of her.

Jigajig Jigajig
 
Syla could see the sword trying to form trying to connect before it stopped as the boy lost confidence in himself. Syla had assumed he was a man but it seemed there was a deep wound a lacking in himself that in her mind was more like a child than an adult. the sword might not wake up if he could not even for just a moment lift this veil of doubt. When one doubted, you stalled and worried and lost yourself you needed to be sure for the moment you stopped you were stuck forever.

" Your blindness is not in your eyes but in your heart" syla said " What your eyes do not see your heart should, the sword wants to wake up and would if you would let it. Do not doubt, do not think, simply do" Syla instructed " You did not pick it, it picked you, it matters not your age or your profession, the sword has picked you"

Syla could not let Guillaume just wallow in doubt and hesitate just because of his own issues. Lacking eye sight was no excuse for hiding from what was fate, the will of the gods. They needed the blades at least most of them to combat the wave of death. Syla had seen plenty that had fought without sight, that knew more because of it.

" You are water you do not need to see you must feel, eyes lie to you, eyes can be deceived, you need only feel the truth. You must trust in the blade, trust in the gods, even if you can not trust in yourself. The sword will be your eyes, the world open in a way none but those without sight can truly experience. So try again you were close" Syla didn't just say she demanded getting close to likely losing her cover. What beggar woman would know all this, well every hero had their guide, some were animals, some distant beauties and others a simple beggar.
 
Skye Carrigan
Interaction: N/A
Mention: N/A
During her journey towards Darkstone, they had a run-in with the thieves. They wanted to steal everything from her including the package she supposed to give to the customer. The package was in her backpack, and because Skye didn't want them to rob her. They removed the green cloth from Ea no ken, took it out of its sheath, and used her wings and the sword's flying power to get the heck out of there.
However, due to them flying through the sky at a ridiculous speed. Skye didn't know how to stop herself. "HELP ME! I DON'T KNOW HOW TO STOP MYSELF, SINCE I NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE." said Skye, who was yelling. They flew over Darkstone with a blink of an eye, and went to who knows where.
Eventually, they stopped Ea no ken's flying power, and landed on the ground to rest her tired wings. They had no clue where they were, and she was too tired to care. Skye took out some food and her canteen from her backpack, so she can eat and drink from that. 'Ok. I will never do that again, since that was way too fast for me to control it.' thought Skye, who was exhausted. She took out her bedroll, and used that to sit on the ground. They needed to rest for a bit before they head back to Darkstone, and she had a map on her. Ea no ken was putted back into its sheath too, since they didn't need it right now.
As for why Skye was on this journey. Their job is to deliver packages or messages from the Everlasting Forest, and the package she is carrying is a music box. The customer is a man, and that is all they know about this delivery. She doesn't know that the music box is a gift for the customer's daughter, because it is the kid's birthday.
 
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Guild Hall -The Dragons Head Inn
As the door to the Guild Hall was suddenly kicked open, numerous people turned their heads to look at whoever had decided to just barge in here. When they saw not an adult but a child.. to say there was a few confused faces would of been an understatement. Some mutters here and there would spread amongst the adventurers. When the boy made their way up the spiral staircase to the second level and into the The Dragons Head Inn, once again more or less everyone turned to eye Damian. You got many an odd sort in here, but for a child to enter...? That was new. As Damian found himself a seat at an empty table and looked around he would note that one particular man was looking at him. A giant of a man who stood easily seven foot tall, was built like an outhouse made of bricks and wielded a massive axe.

It was then at that moment a slightly older woman, in her mid thirties approached the young lad with a pad and pencil looking down at him. It was clearly one of the waitresses from her uniform. Looking him over and then to the sword she cocked her head to one side. "Aren't you a little young to be in here..?"

Gish_Sky Gish_Sky
Guild Hall - The Dragons Head Inn​

Damian felt someone watching him. Well, a lot of people were watching him, mostly faces of concern. Damian scowled. They were looking at him as if he was a little child. However, he felt that one particular individual was watching him, someone behind him. Turning around, he saw a large man, perhaps seven feet tall, wielding a large axe. Damian considered making some sort of rude remark, but the man seemed rather intimidating, so he decided to leave him alone. Unless, of course, the man approached him. In that case, Damian had to be prepared to kick his ass.

Turning back around, so he faced a majority of the people in the Dragons Head Inn, Damian spotted one of the waitresses, a woman with a kind face, walking in his direction. She was holding a pad of paper and a pencil, presumably to take his order.

”Aren’t you a little young to be in here?”

Damian scowled. He wasn’t that young. However, the majority of the people in this place were perhaps double his age. Many of them had defined muscles, decent armor (not dwarf made of course) and a fiery look of experience in their eyes.

”I’m not that young. I’ll take a glass of the blood of the apple,” Damian replied, crossing his arms. Technically, the name of the beverage was apple juice, but blood of the apple sounded much more sophisticated and tough. Just like the people inside this place. Damian wanted to blend in, not stand out. And perhaps, find a sword wielder.

”Have you been here a while? It seems like it. Are there any special sword-wielders here?” Damian asked, running his fingers over Hinoken’s blade.

”To be precise, a wielder of Waizu Kenshi’s blades.”
 
The masked stranger rose an eyebrow looking at Sujime before chuckling slightly. Nodding their head towards Darkstone they smiled under their mask. "Some company would be most welcome. Travelling alone for days on end it can get rather... quiet. I am in no hurry to reach there." Raising their hand up to their mask and then gripping it with the tips of their fingers they pulled upon it, the mask vanishing in a purple haze. What was under the mask was a face of a woman, the lower half of their face covered once more. What was odd was the their long dark purple hair shifted into a short cut of white hair. "I have been to Darkstone a few times in the past. It seems to have certainly changed since the last time I was here though.." The woman then looked at Sujime. "Oh yes! Where are my manners?" She stepped forwards smiling once more offering a hand to shake. "My name is Kima. Pleasure to meet you"


Phineas Forge Phineas Forge




The large man narrowed his eyes slightly glaring at Damian as he took a swig out of a large ale mug. Setting the mug down the man stood up slowly gripping his axe with one hand. The waitress looked down at Damian as he scowled and she smiled apologetically. "Aha of course!" She chuckled slightly and nodded. "One glass of "Blood of the Apple" coming right up" She was about to leave but then stopped when Damian spoke once again. She pondered for a moment putting her finger on her chin. "I've been here all my life." She then cock her head to the side. "Special sword-wielders?" Her eyes widened slightly. " Waizu Kenshi’s blades? Err.. I'm afraid I couldn't say.. We have thousands of people passing through Darkstone each week. Anyone of them may of held one of Waizu Kenshi’s blades. Although.." She leaned in closer. "I have heard a rumour.. one of the other patrons here spotted a lone swordswoman on the rode heading here. They were wearing a mask apparently... And we all know about THAT rumour... "A wandering swordswoman able to burn away Anki with a deadly fire." If it's true then.. you may just have one there"

The man approached the table and then leaned upon it looking at Damian. "You ask a lot of questions boy."

Gish_Sky Gish_Sky
 
The masked stranger rose an eyebrow looking at Sujime before chuckling slightly. Nodding their head towards Darkstone they smiled under their mask. "Some company would be most welcome. Travelling alone for days on end it can get rather... quiet. I am in no hurry to reach there." Raising their hand up to their mask and then gripping it with the tips of their fingers they pulled upon it, the mask vanishing in a purple haze. What was under the mask was a face of a woman, the lower half of their face covered once more. What was odd was the their long dark purple hair shifted into a short cut of white hair. "I have been to Darkstone a few times in the past. It seems to have certainly changed since the last time I was here though.." The woman then looked at Sujime. "Oh yes! Where are my manners?" She stepped forwards smiling once more offering a hand to shake. "My name is Kima. Pleasure to meet you"


Phineas Forge Phineas Forge




The large man narrowed his eyes slightly glaring at Damian as he took a swig out of a large ale mug. Setting the mug down the man stood up slowly gripping his axe with one hand. The waitress looked down at Damian as he scowled and she smiled apologetically. "Aha of course!" She chuckled slightly and nodded. "One glass of "Blood of the Apple" coming right up" She was about to leave but then stopped when Damian spoke once again. She pondered for a moment putting her finger on her chin. "I've been here all my life." She then cock her head to the side. "Special sword-wielders?" Her eyes widened slightly. " Waizu Kenshi’s blades? Err.. I'm afraid I couldn't say.. We have thousands of people passing through Darkstone each week. Anyone of them may of held one of Waizu Kenshi’s blades. Although.." She leaned in closer. "I have heard a rumour.. one of the other patrons here spotted a lone swordswoman on the rode heading here. They were wearing a mask apparently... And we all know about THAT rumour... "A wandering swordswoman able to burn away Anki with a deadly fire." If it's true then.. you may just have one there"

The man approached the table and then leaned upon it looking at Damian. "You ask a lot of questions boy."

Gish_Sky Gish_Sky
Damian watched the man take another swig from a rather large ale mug. That was good. It would give him an advantage, just in case a fight would ever occur. A slightly buzzed man was never a good soldier; that was what his father had always said. That’s why he never drank. Suddenly, Damian was hit with a pang of homesickness. Damian pinched himself, in an attempt to ignore that feeling.

The lady seemed a bit amused by his wording and Damian gave her a small grin. It was obvious that she knew that he had been trying make his choice of beverage sound more adult-like.

Damian listened to her story, a bit amused. That was him. He was amused by the fact that the story portrayed him as some dashing and dangerous hero. But a swordswoman? Damian scowled hearing that. He wasn’t a swordswoman. He was a MAN.

“I heard it was a swordma...” Damian was interrupted by the arrival of the big man, who was built like an ox. He was even larger closer up and Damian could see his well-toned arm muscles as the man leaned against the table. Damian stood up from his seat, pushing his chair in with his foot.

”Does it matter? Go pick on someone your own size... Unless you want to mess with the master of fire!” Damian unsheathed his sword, waving it around a bit with bravado. The sword slowly ignited, flames dancing around the silver blade. Damian smirked. Ah yes, the large man would be scared of him now. Maybe he’d bow at his feet too. Damian was amused by the idea of the man begging for mercy.
 
The two had traveled far, as they always did, a masked archer and faithful beast. The world was changing their hunts no longer would feed Wolf and few would receive Lamb's arrow . The two knew of an anki and their threat and yet they did not fear them. All things ended and one day even the ever lasting ended. The two came to the forest where the little wind spirit rested. The two liked to only show up before certain events or when one was asleep. They had some flare for the dramatic, some enjoyment when those they met did more than simply die. Still They had come and yet the girl had not escaped them today and would not meet them again for some time. Still the forest was a place quiet dangerous even for those used to it. The pair moved closer their footfalls making no sound as slowly a cold grey fog appeared. They could not sneak up on her, not what she was awake, but that did not mean they could not but on a little bit of a show. The fog quickly thickened becoming near impenetrable and even the sky was soon blotted out.

" This one is swift" A low bestial voice said

" None are more swift than you " A calm female voice said though neither speaker could be seen

" Can I chase and tear and eat?" The male voice asked suddenly coming from another direction

" Perhaps " The female voice said as two pinpricks of blue light appeared in the fog " Tell me spirit will it be bow or tooth?" The voice asked as something could be heard pawing the ground and a bow string could be heard being pulled.
 
Guillaume Bonneau
With Karcen Karcen (Syla)​

Guillaume found himself speechless for a moment, his mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, before he found his own brow already furrowed. Not in confusion, but in anger. He found himself more offended than expected, and he felt the heat of anger boil in him as he let his anger get the better of him. She was so... pushy. She made demands of him, assumptions of him, did not try to see things from his point of view, she only saw a man who had issues with using a legendary weapon. Perhaps not even a man, maybe a disabled child, or even a broken tool. Her attempts at sympathy was a thin veil for her true purpose, to apparently awaken his connection with this gem. He let out an indignant huff.
"No. No I don't think I will." He said hostilely, letting his feelings be clearly known, "You don't think I know that? That I can see beyond physical sight? Did you think the first thing I did when I lost my sight, wasn't to find ways to regain it?" Guillaume put the gem back into his pouch, "Acting without thinking is what lost me my sight in the first place, and if I truly am a wielder of this blade then I will go about learning my own pace, my own speed, gods, fate, and Mizunoken be damned. They knew what they were getting into, when they picked me. I am not broken toy to be fixed, Elder, don't speak to me as if I haven't been blind for the past near-twenty years." Guillaume stood up and took a deep breath, "Forgive me, I appear to have lost my appetite. Enjoy your tea and breakfast, and thank you for the advice." And the professor reached into his coin pouch and produced the exact change required for the two drinks, his tone no less upset. He placed the coin on the table and picked up his white cane as he wordlessly snapped his fingers, activating a spell, and taking off on a brisk walk, leaving the Elder at the cafe. He didn't use his cane, but he walked as if his sight was perfectly fine, more than fine. His step avoided every single crack and crater in the ground, and he navigated the bustling street effortlessly and perfectly. He walked straight towards the Dragon Head Inn, where he had a room. He needed to think, cool off, and think. Maybe write a letter.
 

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