Black Zenith [Adventure RPG / Chapter Four: Fires of Heaven]

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Just finished a whole bunch of electrician exams so yeah, excuse me for my delay. Also yay we're about to get to the fun part!

Using the sudden burst of stamina that the winds had provided Bohw with, she grits through the pain and continues to run off with Thunderpaw in tow. She could of sworn she gave the newcomer a mortal blow earlier, but she failed to be surprised by the enemy's sturdiness after all this bullshit. Slinging her longbow over her shoulder, Bohw quickly reached into her coat pockets and activated a timed, clockwork bomb in her hands, hurling it behind her at any of their pursuers.

Mayor is confused, he is unsure if this was a good development or a bad one, given the nature of his friend. Enzu was clearly missing his horns, it never occurred to Mayor that was holding one of his horns, despite the sense it made, but he just assumed that was because Enzu was currently not a dragon. Mayor idly caught a spinning sword in his hand and stuffed it inside his torso for safety, while it was currently open. Hopefully Enzu would of been affixed on his horn long enough for him to pick up the chestplate and leg it with the rest of everyone else.

"Jeez..." Savannah wipes her brow, glaring at the fires still raging and Sa'ron flopping onto the ground like a dead fish. She doesn't have time for this.

"Shut up and go, psycho. You can cry later." Savannah butts Renzo in the back with her shoulder towards the remains of the tower and prepares to follow him. However, she catches sight of Sa'ron, still imitating a beached whale, and grumbles. "The things I do..."

"Hey." Savannah stands over Sa'ron, glaring down at him. Her hair shimmers with melting ice crystals, spear at the ready. "Am I gonna have to beat your ass again if I help you get up, or are we gonna do this the easy way?"

The man lies still, obviously worn out, yet he is smiling crookedly as you approach.

"In my homeland, you would have been hated and hunted as a witch for the accursed magic you wield... I see that the icy cold is not equally merciless this far south. We thank you for our freedom, friend. I'zith tells me he does not hope to fight you again any time soon. Let us hope fate does not have other plans."

Still lying prone, he eyes the unnatural woman and the dragon from across the battlefield, silently considering for several moments.

"We will escape this dead city on our own time, I think. Go and join your companions."

Watson jaunts to the old ruins like a person who has the slightest sense in his cerebrum to escape.

He then raises his finger, with a puzzled expression. Before dashing off he turns to see that they are without one of their ensemble and that a man with constellation decorations on his face is MAKING OFF WITH MAYOR'S ANTLER?!?!?!?!?!?!? He had no idea a golem would sport such a piece of animal headwear anywhere on his body. Or he forgot what it was for in the first place.

Regardless, HOW DARE HE MISAPPROPRIATE A PRECIOUS PIECE OF ANIMAL TROPHY AFTER ALL. That man must meet the jaws of justice, and justice, thy name is Starmetal.

"You, there!" Watson points to the golem, "bear it rightly!"

Watson throws a large, sharp piece of justice, and then dashes off, a ray of alizarin light trailing behind him while the sword is still spinning in the air. He can only hope that Mayor grips it and swings it to full force towards Enzu's smug mug.

Using the sudden burst of stamina that the winds had provided Bohw with, she grits through the pain and continues to run off with Thunderpaw in tow. She could of sworn she gave the newcomer a mortal blow earlier, but she failed to be surprised by the enemy's sturdiness after all this bullshit. Slinging her longbow over her shoulder, Bohw quickly reached into her coat pockets and activated a timed, clockwork bomb in her hands, hurling it behind her at any of their pursuers.

Mayor is confused, he is unsure if this was a good development or a bad one, given the nature of his friend. Enzu was clearly missing his horns, it never occurred to Mayor that was holding one of his horns, despite the sense it made, but he just assumed that was because Enzu was currently not a dragon. Mayor idly caught a spinning sword in his hand and stuffed it inside his torso for safety, while it was currently open. Hopefully Enzu would of been affixed on his horn long enough for him to pick up the chestplate and leg it with the rest of everyone else.

Mayor leaves Enzu as he is still sitting there, apparently content to sit there and marvel at the antler. How disappointed Watson must be.

The beauty of the winds brings a tear to Renzo's eye. Daring not to wet his glorious mustache, he sniffles. "It is no shame, to weep at beauty." Overwhelmed by emotions, he throws a jar of glaze at Bohw and Thunderpaw, letting it break open on them, and increasing their speed to allow them to keep up with this mysterious woman.

Well, I have no idea what this does. Lets try using Song of the Lost while Bohw drags Thundy to the secret tunnels.

A haunting, wordless song rings out across the courtyard as you race for the broken base of the tower, pursued by the scarred woman. With a burst of speed, you manage to make it out of the reach of her flashing steel claws, only to immediately be assaulted by another barrage of arcane projectiles and lightning strikes, punishing you with blinding pain for every step you take.

Then the great dragon catches up to the diminutive figure, and with one sweep of his claw he rips the woman in half, the sickly snap of rusted metal ringing out loud. With another sweep, the dragon sends the pieces flying across the courtyard to land in some distant corner.

"She will return shortly. Every moment you delay is another you spend being stalked. Should you survive, hasten to the defense of Taraheen. I shall slow this demon for as long as I am able."

Picking up a nearby mostly-intact wall, the dragon heaves it onto his back and makes as if to move across the courtyard to bury the woman beneath a pile of rubble.

Climbing over your own piles of rubble, Bohw drags you towards what was once the base of the tower, now only outlined by the jagged remains of a wall. You hurry through what would have been the entrance hall, passing ruined books, broken candles and ornamentations aswell as a slew of ruined furniture. Up ahead sits a stone throne on an elevated dias, surrounded by rubble and broken counselors chairs. A crown sits on the throne, devoid of any ornamentation save a large sapphire set at the brow. A man in mages robes lies crushed beneath a wooden beam just outside of where the room would have ended in a side entrance. Immediately behind the throne the floor has caved in, revealing a stairwell leading down into darkness.

I really need to be more diligent here, jeez louise. Thank Cred for breathing life into me with their insistence on knitting on the battlefield!

Failure upon failure, upon failure, Myra just wasn't doing anything right- when her comrades needed help the most now! She was sure to be covered in bruises and scratches from all of this crashing around- her pride among them, considering how her favorite spell was stolen twice over. She lay there on the ground, staring ahead at the two spell thieves, wondering if she should legitimately consider this theft in the first place. And would that make Renzo a double-thief, or a hero, for stealing her spell back?

She had little time to ponder on it as the great dragon bellowed for the group to get to the caverns, witnessing some of her allies following suit straight away. "That's all I wanted to know from the start," Myra groaned as she helped herself up, "If I'd known that earlier, we could have avoided this!" The ravenfolk quickly shook her body loose of its complaints as she muttered one more of her own, "Should've just scried," before dashing to the target location. She called behind her to Nehron, "You heard the dragon, you should get out of here too!" Onwards down the mysterious staircase!

Renzo harrumphs at Savannah's brashness, and straightens out his ruffled mustache. The gall of this girl!

Renzo heads into the caverns with the group, pondering about that crown and who it belonged to and why it is here. Luckily, his oraclestone can answer that question. And then he takes the crown for himself, because it's beauty is simply too luxurious for some of the baser tastes of this party. Save maybe Watson, but the gems don't really go with his complexion now do they?

Watson does not adhere to the upper upper class's bad taste in crowns and gemstones like SOME BOURGEOIS SNOB *COUGH* RENZO *COUGH*. Watson can cut much finer stones. The magnificently hewn gems would then be melted together to create a whirlpool of color in a small sphere. He would implant that in place of someone's missing eye AND THEY WOULD BE GRACIOUS TOWARDS HIM AND ALL WHOM BEHOLD THEIR CRYSTAL-EYED COUNTENANCE.

Watson does like the robes though and takes those after he eyes the dead mage.

Is that silk? It better be silk. He will not settle for anything less. Watson has a goal in mind and he must meet it!

If they are silk, he'll find some way of incorporating them into the tapestry. And if he finds any sort of item on the dead man's garb, he'll pilfer for them for the party. That man won't need them where he's gone.

"Trust me when I say I didn't exactly ask for this frigid garbage anyway." Savannah flexes her fingers, staring down at the tiny snow flakes that slowly melt on her skin, even in the heat. "And believe me, I don't want to fight you or your... I'zith again. I've had enough fire to last a life time."

As she begins to walk away, however, Savannah turns back to Sa'ron with a blank expression. She fishes that sphere Miquel gave her, showing it to the fire spinner. "If you see rocket boy again, tell him he's gonna have to pry this device from my cold, dead hands if he wants it back."

And with that, she's gone, running for the 'safety' of the entrance hall. It doesn't take long before she's caught up with Renzo and Watson, two dolts who she really doesn't want to deal with.

"Catch you guys later. Better hurry it up if you don't want that lady to rip out your spine and suck all the marrow out of it." Savannah dismisses the two with a flip of the hand, heading down the staircase behind the throne.

Mayor continued to make his retreat, clumsily hammering his chest piece back into place with one hand as he ran, ignoring any dents he causes to make in his hurry. He made a passing wave towards Belarion as thanks for saving his hide a second time, as he rushed around whatever was left of the maze and rubble to make his way to the tower.

Bohw snarls as Thunderpaw takes another hit, pushing him to the edge to keep running as she quickly brought up another rune. She was far too concerned about the damn rabbit's health to care about anything else, breathing some of her life into the glowing green rune as it found and bound itself to Thunderpaw. If giving him some of her energy would of kept him alive long enough to answer some of her questions, Bohw wouldn't mind the extra pain she was putting herself through now, almost throwing Thunderpaw down the stairwell as she hurried down after him.

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Are you two seriously looting at a time like this I swear to god I will--

-Ahem. Bohw is using a rune to heal Thunderpaw with a portion of her own health. Mayor and Bohw are both retreating to the obvious place.

the hell is this

FIVE posts made within like what 12 hours of each other i swear to gog am i dreaming

Caw damnit, I should've started looting the place too! Are there any neat shinies worth catching my birdie's eye, by chance? Moreso than usual, at least? And can I nab them?

Also yeah wow, vacation's over Chim. Hope you enjoyed it //hit

Failure upon failure, upon failure, Myra just wasn't doing anything right- when her comrades needed help the most now! She was sure to be covered in bruises and scratches from all of this crashing around- her pride among them, considering how her favorite spell was stolen twice over. She lay there on the ground, staring ahead at the two spell thieves, wondering if she should legitimately consider this theft in the first place. And would that make Renzo a double-thief, or a hero, for stealing her spell back?

She had little time to ponder on it as the great dragon bellowed for the group to get to the caverns, witnessing some of her allies following suit straight away. "That's all I wanted to know from the start," Myra groaned as she helped herself up, "If I'd known that earlier, we could have avoided this!" The ravenfolk quickly shook her body loose of its complaints as she muttered one more of her own, "Should've just scried," before dashing to the target location. She called behind her to Nehron, "You heard the dragon, you should get out of here too!" Onwards down the mysterious staircase!

Nehron watches you silently for several moments, then gives a toothy smile, seeming satisfied.

"You are resilient to have resisted the wrath of the winds so. I salute you, raven's kin. May the wind be ever in your favor."

Then he is gone in a gust of wind, blowing far and away as a howling gale.

Renzo harrumphs at Savannah's brashness, and straightens out his ruffled mustache. The gall of this girl!

Renzo heads into the caverns with the group, pondering about that crown and who it belonged to and why it is here. Luckily, his oraclestone can answer that question. And then he takes the crown for himself, because it's beauty is simply too luxurious for some of the baser tastes of this party. Save maybe Watson, but the gems don't really go with his complexion now do they?

You invoke your oraclestone, and see in your mind when the recently-deceased king placed the crown upon the throne several hours ago, then left. Prior to this, great destruction had been visited upon the inhabitants of the city, slaying all but those within the tower and a few stragglers trapped in the city. Realizing that he now reigned in a dead city, the king left the crown behind as a testament to his failure.

The oraclestone also reveals that the crown is not magical, which in itself is unusual as it is common for royalty to place their greatest magical protections upon the artifacts that represent their sovereignty, be it crown, scepter or jewelry. The large flawless sapphire inset at the brow also indicates that this crown may have been intended for a similar use, but the enchantment was never completed. A skilled artificer might yet remedy that.

Regardless, this particular crown has been known as the royal symbol to many throughout Tanalein when it was immortalized over twenty years ago at king Amond Varangian's crowning, where his father the former king, Matheous Varangian, presented the newly-forged crown to his son. The old king died within minutes of having completed the crowning ceremony, having completed the last task left to him in the world. Apparently, he was found dead sitting in a chair with a smile on his face. Such an event is not easily forgotten in the minds of a people, as the old king was well liked despite the steady decline of the kingdom prior to the new crowning.

King's Crown
Wearing this, you command the people of Tanalein - provided they are inclined to listen to you.
A crown with a simple, traditional design. It is made from burnished silver and inset with a large, cloudy sapphire at the brow, with an inscription circling the setting of the sapphire, reading 'Alrie - Val sora cuebiyar'.

Watson does not adhere to the upper upper class's bad taste in crowns and gemstones like SOME BOURGEOIS SNOB *COUGH* RENZO *COUGH*. Watson can cut much finer stones. The magnificently hewn gems would then be melted together to create a whirlpool of color in a small sphere. He would implant that in place of someone's missing eye AND THEY WOULD BE GRACIOUS TOWARDS HIM AND ALL WHOM BEHOLD THEIR CRYSTAL-EYED COUNTENANCE.

Watson does like the robes though and takes those after he eyes the dead mage.

Is that silk? It better be silk. He will not settle for anything less. Watson has a goal in mind and he must meet it!

If they are silk, he'll find some way of incorporating them into the tapestry. And if he finds any sort of item on the dead man's garb, he'll pilfer for them for the party. He won't need them where he's gone.

With some trouble, you haul the massive wooden beam out of your way and get to looting, trying to ignore how the dead man's bones are quite obviously horrendously broken. As it turns out, it is indeed a silken robe, although you'd need to get rid of some of the fancy pattern thats been stitched into the backside of the robe and across the shoulders in something resembling a stylized wing pattern. The robe is also blessedly free of blood, save for a single stain near the neck where blood had leaked from between the man's lips.

Beyond the robe, you find a signet ring bearing a flame symbol you dont recognize, and a gold-and-ruby pendant. You also find a pouch containing 46 gold coins. You dont know that it contains 46 coins because even Watson isnt mad enough to stop and count damn coins in a situation like this, but maths.

"Trust me when I say I didn't exactly ask for this frigid garbage anyway." Savannah flexes her fingers, staring down at the tiny snow flakes that slowly melt on her skin, even in the heat. "And believe me, I don't want to fight you or your... I'zith again. I've had enough fire to last a life time."

As she begins to walk away, however, Savannah turns back to Sa'ron with a blank expression. She fishes that sphere Miquel gave her, showing it to the fire spinner. "If you see rocket boy again, tell him he's gonna have to pry this device from my cold, dead hands if he wants it back."

And with that, she's gone, running for the 'safety' of the entrance hall. It doesn't take long before she's caught up with Renzo and Watson, two dolts who she really doesn't want to deal with.

"Catch you guys later. Better hurry it up if you don't want that lady to rip out your spine and suck all the marrow out of it." Savannah dismisses the two with a flip of the hand, heading down the staircase behind the throne.

Sa'ron gives you a respectful nod, replying, "Not all fire consumes. It can be the nurturing warmth of life aswell as the raging wildfire bringing death. It is disparity, becoming what you make of it. Do not forswear it simply because you have been burnt once too many, for it may yet bring warmth and comfort to you one day."

With that, he turns and trudges away, heading for the north gate, seeming too exhausted to move any faster. Likewise can be said for the others remaining, the inhuman Rashagor stumbling away not far behind Miquel, who is still smoking slightly from the dragons fire despite whatever magical protection saved him from being consumed in the flame. Only Enzu remains behind, and he seems to have been enveloped in a luminous glow while you werent looking.

Mayor continued to make his retreat, clumsily hammering his chest piece back into place with one hand as he ran, ignoring any dents he causes to make in his hurry. He made a passing wave towards Belarion as thanks for saving his hide a second time, as he rushed around whatever was left of the maze and rubble to make his way to the tower.

Bohw snarls as Thunderpaw takes another hit, pushing him to the edge to keep running as she quickly brought up another rune. She was far too concerned about the damn rabbit's health to care about anything else, breathing some of her life into the glowing green rune as it found and bound itself to Thunderpaw. If giving him some of her energy would of kept him alive long enough to answer some of her questions, Bohw wouldn't mind the extra pain she was putting herself through now, almost throwing Thunderpaw down the stairwell as she hurried down after him.

You sacrifice some of your vitality to boost Thunderpaw, who seems sluggish and lets you drag him along, his song dying as the glowing light that had enveloped him fades, the bow in his hands returning to its former broken state with a discordant snap.

The group files down the dark stairwell for several minutes, the descent brings with it a drastic increase in latent magical energy in the area. Eventually you emerge in a small underground cave, which is lit with a wavering red glow originating from an unusual sword that seems to be stuck in a tomb at the center of a small shrine placed off to one side on the cavern floor. Beyond the shrine is a bend in the cave wall which seems to lead further down.

Also yeah wow, vacation's over Chim. Hope you enjoyed it //hit

thank you. alas, i did not get shitall productive done im fairly sure i spent atleast half my time playing heroes of the storm like the dork i am

(( Haha, I can at least say I've been keeping better with my schoolwork, so at least I have that. XP ))

Myra took a brief moment to watch Nehron go, the corners of her mouth turning up in spite of how everything ached. Aside from the messed up mind control, the werewolf was pretty nice! It was a shame he couldn't come with them and discuss wind magics with her. Ahh well, at least he was safe from the king's power now that he was gone. Speaking of gone, she should get gone further into the cavern!

The ravenfolk winced from the pain of her leaps down the flight of stairs. She leered at the lovely crown that artistic fellow had just ransacked, and was extremely tempted to stick around and collect some shinies of her own...but they really had no time to lose. Maybe there are more shinies deeper in!
Myra finally caught up with the others, and promptly cast a healing spell on the group in attempts to mend what will surely become scars otherwise. She looked to the shrine that was in their immediate vicinity, scrutinizing it for any noteworthy and/or magical details.

tl;dr, Cast Healing on the group, and check that shrine out for anything of note and/or magical about it.

Savannah walked up beside Myra, crossing her arms as she looked over the sword. "I call it." Despite her words, she makes no attempt to touch the sword or the shrine in any way. It was simply a formality, to make sure that one of their... less trustworthy party members wouldn't touch it. "Unless you want it." She brushed a few ice crystals out of her hair, glancing over at the ravenfolk.

"...So its a magic sword."

Even with the long walk down, Bohw constantly looked behind her and kept her ears open for anything chasing them, far too rattled to feel relaxed any time soon. Once the group had finally made it's way down to the bottom and after a brief headcount to confirm they were down one Mael and up one... painter, Bohw figured that this might of been a good pause in the strife for the party to recover a bit. Which was good, because Bohw had some unsorted business to attend to, stomping over to where Thunderpaw was, "Okay, first of all...!"

With a scowl on her face, Bohw used her height on him to angrily poke him on the head a few times, clearly irritated with him. "You ditched us back there! You ran off with all the soul gem things and pretty much left us for dead! You are without a doubt the worst mercenary I've ever hired and you'll have to really pick up your game if you ever want you coin! Secondly! What in the hell was that about? The floaty thing, the gemstones, the dragon?! You came in with these crazy powers riding a dragon?! Who do you think you are?!"

Bohw's hands tensed up as they formed into fists, gritting her teeth as she went on, "Thirdly! You look like you've never held a damn bow in your entire life! I can't believe you managed to hit that tyrant with that shot, your positioning was all off even though you were flying and you were holding the arrow on the inside of the bow! You don't do that! Hold it on the outside of the bow or you'll be aiming that damn thing all day! Do you know how hard it was to distract him while you were just aiming?!" As she continued to figuratively chew his ears off with her long winded lecture however, her furious expression starting to fade rather suddenly. Her rage was rapidly vanishing and a concerned expression had found it's way to her face instead.

"And finally! Finally...! You idiot! What were you thinking wandering around on your own? It's dangerous out there, you could of gotten hurt! Do you have any idea how worried I was for you?! Do you?!" Bohw snapped, her voice tight as it held back her emotions, letting her arms fall to her side as her act finally faltered.

Renzo places the headress in his bag, before following the group. Deciding to just watch their next step, he whispers to himself. "I suppose that fight wasn't exactly a crowning achievement..."

Myra was staring at the sword, humming in thought while trying to see if it has any magical effects. Her concentration was broken when she heard the shouting of a very upset Half-Imp a bit away. A few moments of listening in told her that she was scolding that bunni fellow into the next plane of existence. Damn right she should, too! "Yeah," the ravenfolk petulantly added in, "Next time you turn tail like that again and owl be hunting you down for some roasted rabbit! Watson here's tasted some, we've totally got takers on it." She jerked a thumb at the silk-plundering gentleman-in-question before turning back to the sword. She muttered, "...at least if the spell worked right," before thinking back to the sword.

"You should probably take it," Myra remarked to Savannah, "If it's not cursed, at least. Still trying to figure that out right now." More sword scrutiny.

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King's Crown
Wearing this, you command the people of Tanalein - provided they are inclined to listen to you.
A crown with a simple, traditional design. It is made from burnished silver and inset with a large, cloudy sapphire at the brow, with an inscription circling the setting of the sapphire, reading 'Alrie - Val sora cuebiyar'.

You can't rule the kingdom of Tanalein if they're all dead.

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IF THEY'RE ALL DEAD

"Yes, yes, rabbit-stew and all...", Watson added with none too much fervor, clearly already too enamored with something else: his new ring. Which will surely provide him protection against that most dreaded element of nature he had been combating.

With regards to that weapon sitting attractively in its own little crenelation in the middle of the room, Watson already has a many magical swords and has since become disinterested in the standard magical fare and minutiae inherent in getting one. He will not partake in such a pathetic squabble until such a time as he has lost one of them or would like a trade. (Or has formed an idea of how to clasp one in his mouth in a suitably battle-agressive, although uncouth manner. Besides that, only a raving beast would find such a form of combat agreeable and so tosses away the idea of oral combat, hoping it will never invite itself into the crannies of his mind ever again!)

Speaking of, he retrieves his own from Mayor whom he was notified SO UNGRATEFULLY DID NOT put Enzu to death. In his face. In his vapid, headpiece-heisting, antler-admiring face. A remarked scowl in Watson's own face is visible as he sucked in his teeth, breathing in, and asked for the return of his Starmetal in a more dignified manner than one would expect.

Other than that, Watson does not even give the entrench'd sword the benefit of a single askance glance, instead offering a pendant and one or more other items up for trade. While drinking magical water from a cup. At a time like this.

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Unfortunately, the idea has already inhabited my mind and I have become taken with visions of a fish-type character that holds as many swords in its mouth as it has teeth. And it has 3 rows of teeth and no arms. Totally balanced.

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hey myra wanna trade Aven'sara Jeade'en for a fancy orb of the sea? renzo hasn't exactly been attacking a lot so it'd probably be better for you

WAT IS HAPPEN

?
POSTS??traderequests! ?? ?
dialogue!Ranting?_

out of combat ?do not compute CW.exe has encountered a critical erro~

> _

Ohhh man, dat orb! That sounds like a fun trade, but Myra's a ravenfolk, and they're pretty dang possessive over their shinies. And the one you're requesting both shines and floats to her. As far as she's concerned, she's its mamma, haha
Renzo can give it a shot, just the chances of her agreeing aren't too great

Also-- QUICK, THROW RECENT DOODLES AT HIM TO KNOCK OUT THE CHIM!!

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TFW no wind favor

*ded*

e: whats with the praise the sun posture anyway

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Oh no sorry, I can't draw for the life of me.

Renzo, have you tried making a slot in the orb for a sword? I want to see what happens if the Starmetal has a huge magical sphere for a hilt.

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Proof that I can't draw for the life of me

chim, does that Oraclestone require magical input? Because if not, Watson may be interested in trading for it for the sake of MORE WISDOM.

Myra took a brief moment to watch Nehron go, the corners of her mouth turning up in spite of how everything ached. Aside from the messed up mind control, the werewolf was pretty nice! It was a shame he couldn't come with them and discuss wind magics with her. Ahh well, at least he was safe from the king's power now that he was gone. Speaking of gone, she should get gone further into the cavern!

The ravenfolk winced from the pain of her leaps down the flight of stairs. She leered at the lovely crown that artistic fellow had just ransacked, and was extremely tempted to stick around and collect some shinies of her own...but they really had no time to lose. Maybe there are more shinies deeper in!
Myra finally caught up with the others, and promptly cast a healing spell on the group in attempts to mend what will surely become scars otherwise. She looked to the shrine that was in their immediate vicinity, scrutinizing it for any noteworthy and/or magical details.

It takes you only a glance to tell that the massive iron sword is indeed magical. A closer look reveals that the spellweave used is in an unusual style you do not recognize. That, paired with the dents and scratches criss-crossing the dark metal lets you conclude that this is a pretty damn old sword. Also probably the fact that you found it in a dark, forgotten cave. Yeah.

The stone coffin also appears to hold remnants of magic, but the weaves are terribly frayed and probably dont fulfill whatever purpose they were originally designed for. Along one edge of the lid are carved jagged letters into the stone, reading "Corman". Below that you find a series of diminutive glyphs carved with much greater craftmanship. You have no idea what they might say, if anything.

Taking a closer look at the sword, you think you can piece together what the spell on the blade does, although it goes about it in what seems an unnecessarily complex and roundabout way. If you read the spellweave right, it would absorb some kind of energy from anything struck by the blade, store it in the glowing ruby inset in the hilt of the blade and then release it at the command of the wielder. The confusing spellweave leaves you wondering if there is more to the design than just that, or if the enchanters of old simply didnt know better.

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If you like, you can bring this particular sword with you on your adventures in skyrim! Because. I. Can.

https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/f...=324657515

e: whats with the praise the sun posture anyway

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She's signing her allegiance over to the sun that's why Throwing her arms up like 'wtf bro'...But then, I make no claims to putting much, if any thought in poses, haha

And Cred, I can safely say that your art is a creation of beauty.

Ahhh, such intricate magic! The sheer volume and variety in the magics that the ravenfolk has come across thus far was thoroughly intriguing. "Hmm, the sword's definitely magical," Myra told Savannah, "from the looks of it, the sword'll absorb and store energy from whatever it hits, and the person wielding it can release that energy at their will. The spell's pretty complex, though, so there might be something more to it..." Myra shrugged. "Wish I knew why they made it like that! Either way, I think you're safe taking it, unless that Corman fella's got something to say about it, heheh."

She gave one last glance to the sword, and then decided she had better get going. She continued down the path to see what lies ahead, casting up a magical light to guide the way.

Renzo had no use for a meager sword, and continued down the halls. While the form certainly was impressive, he decided he needed a more...impressionist phase for his art. Something to help move the hearts and souls of the people, let them draw their own conclusions, rather than let his work speak for itself. And it was having to do a lot of speaking, what with these rookies. Just look at Watson. He called that thing a tapestry? The design was all wrong and don't get Renzo started on the color. Really, orange?! Why don't you just gouge our eyes out. But fair is foul, and fowl is fair. Renzo knew a good eye when he saw one, and it appeared the raven girl had one. He caught up to her, before pulling out his orb from his pack.

"Excusez-moi my good lady, that is quite a gem on you. I would so love to do a piece on it. Really, your taste is impeccable. I don't mean to crow over your penchant for shiny curios, but you do have me curious. Why, I was just saying how I wanted to try a new phase in my art, and it seems I no longer have any use for my, dare I say, coup de grâce of my latest phase. Let's just say that the natural beauty of mother earth is a fickle mistress. This watery orb looks much more beautiful when compared to one such as yourself. What say I trade you? Now, I will of course return your keepsake at any time, but I can already see the gallery of you and that orb. The canvas calls. I dare say people will come from miles to cherchez la femme with the blue orb. I will eat crow if you aren't famous in a fortnight."

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god some of these puns hurt to write