The wind is calm and the waves gently rock the Lucky Dice as Thalenir makes his way slowly from the mess hall onto the deck. In his hands, he carries the artifact sword known as Fiendfrayer, though it is clear from the strain on his face that doing so is an ordeal.
He makes his way midships and plants the sword gently on its tip. "Are there any here with knowledge of curses? Or with the ability to speak with swords or spirits? The Circle has need of your assistance."
Keg crawls up the stairs from below deck. His face is pale green and he curses with every motion of the deck.
The sea is calm and the sunny day is cloudless but windy. The dwarf manages with some effort to roll over to where the paladins are standing easily on the calm deck.
Keg grasps the main mast and pulls himself to his feet. Then turns and smiles at the elf.
As the dwarf opens his mouth to speak he issues a loud burp that smells of vomit and rum. He raises his hand as if to say, I'm alright give me a second. Then the little round dwarf shuffles to the side of the ship and empties his stomach.
Thalenir rolls his eyes and walks slowly over to his two retching companions. "Thomnlyn I can understand, but you're an accomplished healer, Keg. Can't you even cure a minor bout of seasickness?" He smells Keg's breath and blinks tears from his eyes. "Or inebriation, for that matter? Immortals above, no wonder the rum's gone."
Thalenir shakes his head. "Neither of you are in a fit state to help like this. Here." He touches each of them on their shoulder and mutters a brief incantation. "Time unwind and mend your ills." (Cure)
The dark elf, also appearing from the mess hall, walks a few steps behind Thalenir. Then leans against a bannister leading toward the upper deck of the ship and watches on with a slight but still visible grin as he is amused of those who are nowhere used to sea travel. He brushes his hand over his short hair, removing his leather cap, and feels the moist, salty air through his scalp as he looks off toward the sky reminiscing on his past days beginning his journeys about a ship. His grin slowly turns bereft as the look in his eyes turns from the traditional narrowed gaze through his brow to a widened sympathetic glance. The motion of his head veers down and toward the left where Keg and his fellow members of the Circle as standing as he awaits the conversation to take place with an inquisitive look of curiosity.
Keg stands upright and wipes his mouth with Thalaneir's sleeve. He states gruffly, "Thank ye elf. I was out of those just then." As he produces a mug from his pouch and fills it with rum from a jug hanging from his side.
"Now what's this about a cursed sword" he says after taking a long sip from the overflowing mug. "Has Bloodbrand returned?"
The last person to make their way from the mess hall is Thimble, seeming to have no problem with the constantly bobbing ship. She hopped up each on of the steps in a very child like manner before she reached the deck, humming some made up song that sounded passable for a shanty. Thimble walked up behind Thalenir and Corellus, standing on the outside. Thimble spotted Thomnlyn giving the exterior a new coating of 'paint' and Keg doing the same, before Thalenir cured him. For the moment, she stayed quiet, watching to see what people would say and such, though she was glad Keg was conveniently on the deck.
Binx rested her hip against the railing at the stern of the ship, not paying much mind to the coming and going of the others. Thalenir's call for assistance drew her attention, but the sight of the sword he lugged had her scowling behind the mask that covered the lower half of her face. No way in the Pit would she help with that blade ever again. The vomiting of the others did nothing to improve her mood, but she settled for watching from a distance, half-hoping that the sword would conveniently be dropped overboard.
Thalenir winces as Keg wipes his mouth off. "Ugh... no, quite the opposite, actually. We managed to reacquire Fiendfrayer. However, there seems to be a malign influence on the blade. You can speak to blades and spirits both, so I can think of no one better qualified to ascertain the nature of this influence." He offers the sword to Keg. "Would you please have a look and tell us what you find?"
Faro'oq who had been in his normal perch of the crows nest of the ship heres the commotion of the deck and looks down. upon noticing the discussion of his comrades leaps down a level to be within hearing range but reclines on ropes well above the rest of the group. keeping quiet he nearly observes the discussion.
The dark elf eyes catch his feathered brother of the Circle in his periphery as he rappels down from the crow's nest. He has a gawk in his eyes as if to say what the hell are YOU doing up there? The dark elf calms his expression and fixes his eyes on the ixifar. Once Faro'oq manages to look back at him, without moving anything else he uses his right hand, the one leaning against the rail of the stairs and furthest away from the crowd, to beckon Faro'oq over, down toward him.
Keg drains his mug and takes the sword from Thalaneir. He absent mindedly passes the empty mug to the elf as he inspects the cursed blade.
"Spirits I am here to listen. Speak to me so I may," the dwarf pauses with a loud hickup. "Tell these fine paladins what you require." Keg looks around apprehensively.
The fae had made her way to the part of the deck where all the fuss was coming from. To her disappointment it seems that they were all making the fuss over what looked like a regular sword. She decided to stay off to the side and wait hoping that she may get some sort of show from this hunk of metal. Not like anything else of interest was happening on board
The Sword glows with warming white primal light. The brilliant glow of the blade seems to force the clouds from the sky, and still the air. The sun beams down on the scene though it is not overbearingly hot.
"A Paladin has Honor. He does not sully his name with deception, nor tarnish his dignity by indulging in sin." A voice rings, loud enough for everyone observing to hear.
"A Paladin seeks Justice. He upholds the law of the land and lends aid to its agents." The sword pulses with every word. The voice seems to be eminating directly from the blade itself.
"A Paladin shows Mercy. He gives fair warning to his enemies, and quarter to those who surrender in good faith." The sword continues to recite.
"A Paladin Sacrifices for the greater good. He braves any peril to keep innocents from harm." The sword's glow remains as it finishes reciting the code. Though it stays silent.
Thalenir bows his head as the sword speaks, but confusion is evident on his face. When it finishes, he raises his head and hesitantly asks a question. "Hail Fiendfrayer. My name is Thalenir Lestral. Along with my brothers, we are paladins sworn to uphold the Code, and we have need of your assistance in a coming battle. Pray tell us how we can wield you unfettered."
As the sword began to glow, Binx pressed her back against the rail of the ship. She raised a hand to shield her eyes, skin sickly pale in the light. It was so uncomfortable it verged on painful for the Uordeq. Something akin to a soft snarl slipped from behind her mask as she began to move towards the entrance to the ship's hold, one hand on the rail as a guide, hair and hand over her face.
The sword's glowing aura flares angrily as the voice booms,
"Thalenir the Just. Son of Kessik Lestral. Knight of the Crystal Fist. You ask me what it takes to weild my blade yet you address me improperly." The voice speaks with a booming, commanding voice. "You may have taken the mantle of the Knights, you may have sworn to keep the code, but you have yet to be truly tried. When you or your brothers upholds the code and spreads my name, the sword can be weilded. Until that day comes, whoever among you holds my sword, will be rendered impaired." The Blade flares angrily again, power behind the relic.
((OOG The weilder of the Sword is now effected by the following until told otherwise:
- Paladin does not have access to Paladin Abilities.
- cannot benefit from Paladin Immunity
- cannot use Paladin Story Action.
- cannot use Paladin Share.
- Paladin is effected by Plot Slow (Cannot be Countered or Released)
- Paladin is effected by Plot Weakness (Cannot be Countered or Cured)
- Paladin is effected by Plot Fatigue (Cannot be Countered or Cured [Player will have to Rally before Refreshing. After Refreshing, player is effected by Fatigue again.])
- Paladin is effected by Plot Decay (Cannoy be Countered or Cured)
- Paladin cannot Benefit from Material Points.
In addition, the sword cannot be Teleported, Phased, or Concealed.))
"Each of the hinderances can be removed through upholding the code. Whenever you prove yourself worthy to weild my blade, an affliction will be lifted." The sword's glow dims, but does not extinguish.
Thimble quietly watched and listened to the Sword speak, simply trying to absorb as much information that was possible. The one thing, so far, that she was caught up on was the fact that, even though Thalenir had been very respectful in his addressing to the Sword, the Sword was still offended, that and it didn't seem to believe the paladins to yet be worthy of wielding said sword.
"Maybe the Sword has a longer title that we don't know yet? Or maybe a completely different name all together?" She suggested the Thalenir and Corellus, having not noticed Faro'oq, and strangely trying to not offend the sword in anyway.
"So we must... earn da blade's respect? Uddawise eet shall stand to 'inder us?" The dark elf stands upright from his leaning stance and starts to slowly walk towards where they have the sword. "Fiendfraya, 'ow do you expect dis be done? Diplomacy?" The tone in his voice almost suggests that he is musing, but his facial and bodily expressions state otherwise.
"I can 'andle da inability to 'eal my ally, I 'ave all along. Tis been no problem. I can 'andle not walkin' t'rough flame un not takin' down magical barriahs. But I am assailant, I am to stay fleet of foot and sharp of knife. You assuage my ability any furt'er un sacrifice will be da only part of da code kept, but eet won't be fo' anyone's greatah good." He turns his eyes from the blade and onto Thalenir. "T'alenir, I will keep to code. But I shan't 'old da blade."
With an agitated expression, and his hands out at his sides as if to say 'what are you going to do?' Corellus pauses to see if anyone has anything to retort towards his mild outburst to the talking sword. Should no one say anything, he starts to turn to leave to the mess hall.
Thalenir frowns. "You may be right, Thimble. The histories name it Fiendfrayer, but that may be little more than embellishment. Perhaps it has a true name that must be discovered or earned."
He speaks to Corellus but continues staring at the sword. "We have no other weapon that will harm the fiend we go to face, no other way to defeat him and rescue Haven. She means a great deal to me, and I would ask your help out of friendship, but it is irrelevant. She is an innocent. If we are to save her, this is the sacrifice we must make."
"Our path is clear," he says, accepting the sword back from Keg. He holds it up and regards it. "But know this, sword of Shimosh Rosequartz: We do not beg your aid out of pride or want of power. If your hindrance would prevent us from protecting the innocent, we shall cast you aside without a moment's hesitation."
A loud Guffaw can be heard as Taklinn walks past the group. "Ye dolts, part of believing in a code is ta' have faith that ye are doin' right by followin' it. The weapon is a tool have no doubt, perhaps ta make ye mighty if ye can stand ta' uphold yer virtues. But that power will come at a price. It is a test have no doubt, and not just to the virtues that flow from all of yer lips so freely these days, but of yer faith that yer course is whats in yer heart. That weapon is testin yer hearts, yer faith in the Immortals, and the resolve ta' see yer task through." he says to those gathered.
He looks to the departing elf and says "And ye just proved that ye dont have the faith or gumption ta' fight. Thats why the Golem failed, he put the needs of himself over the needs of his comrades and fled the battle. How is refusin' ta wield a weapon that epitomizes whats in yer heart something ta hinder ye? Seems ta me that these test wont be completed by one person. That ain't the Paladin's way I would think, but by all of ye. Ye boys have lost one, and now ye have another without his heart in the fight! If the citizens of Jastrey are ta' follow yer examples, maybe we're better off not goin' home.". he finishes while shaking his head and shuffling toward the rail once again to relieve himself.
Thalenir follows Taklinn to the rail and smiles wearily. "I think you're too harsh on him, my friend. He's young, and we're all new at this. Besides, none of us are perfect. I know that better than most. It's why the Code offers redemption. We may stumble from time to time, but we only fall when we stop trying to rise. Rune's only real failure was that he gave up."
Thalenir sheaths the sword in his belt. "As for trusting in artifacts and immortals, I tried that once. Even the most benevolent immortals only help those who help themselves. Maybe they possess wisdom we cannot fathom, or maybe they're simply aloof and uncaring. It makes little difference. Better to manage what we can, put our faith in the friends who stand by us, and be pleasantly surprised if the immortals should deign to intercede on our behalf."
He puts a hand on Taklinn's shoulder and repeats his previous incantation (Cure). "Besides, there can be no virtue without free will. It is not the Code that makes us noble, but the act of choosing it for ourselves. Corellus will come around."
With that, Thalenir trudges slowly back below deck, the weight on his shoulders seemingly greater than the sword's curse.
"What ye say may have merit, but make no mistake about it elf; We're soon fer fightin' that bastard and he ain't one fer using half measures when he decides ta' do somethin. He's watchin' us even now, and planning fer us." Taklinn shakes his head as he continues thinking.
"What yer failin' ta' see is that I'm saying the same things you are. If ye put yer faith in those who wont stand by ye yer destined ta' fall. Just be wary of who ye call kin, and dont use any person that can help ye get Haven just because they are handy. Someimtes when ye have ten hammers around, its best ta make an axe than go beating against a tree; oftentimes ye get the job done in the same time, and without the headaches and frustrations.".
Swearing under her breath, Binx looked up as Thalenir sheathed the sword. She made her way closer to the small gathering on her way to the steps that led down into the depths of the ship. The dwarf's blather about heart and the code had her nearly rolling her eyes. She paused at the top of the steps, hand on her hip. "Of course the immortals only care about themselves," The Uordeq actually spoke loud enough to make herself heard. Her words were filled with the venom of someone who had been paraded in chains by Hexadus and forced to bend to Hursisa's will. She gestured to the sword that Thalenir had just put away. "And good luck if you plan to use that thing. It would fare better as an anchor."
"A perfect example of why ye don't build on top of Sandstone. Ye fail ta meet yer own enemies face ta face, and are outraged when an evil Immortal that ye tried ta treat with betrayed ye hoot. The problems between our races aren't because of land or race ye dolt, its in the manner that ye choose ta' fight. I'm from dark places, same as you but I prefer ta' see me enemies eyes when I yank their enttrails out of their stinking gut." Taklinn says walking forward and puffing his chest out. "Course present company may be excluded, ye just must see better than I do. Make no mistake though hoot; every person lives by some sort of code, even if its ta' run ta save yer stinkin' neck."
At the sound of Thalenir's voice, Thomnlyn looks up from where he hangs over the railing of the ship. He has a slight greenish tinge to his skin.
"Agreed, any assistance would be kindly appreiecated" Thomnlyn says just before throwing himself back over the railing and retched again.