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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Jon Potter" data-source="post: 4877025" data-attributes="member: 2323">[PLAIN][Realms #479] Fedifensor[/PLAIN]"I believe our goals are one, Mori'Quessir... uh... Morier," Maleko said as he caught up with the albino in the port at the entrance to Avik-tchai. "We do need to discuss our situation with you and, as a representative of Grey House, I need some information from you as well." Morier sighed and stopped. He touched his chest and Maleko saw gold-green light - like sunshine striking a forest floor - spread beneath the drow's fingers. Then Morier looked up at Maleko."Look, elf. I don't know what Ayremac told you about me, but I've never been to Grey House," he said. "And I've got a lot on my own plate at the moment so you'll forgive me if I'm not overly keen on hearing about 'your situation'." Maleko could not have looked more shocked if Morier had actually reached out and slapped him, but he recovered quickly."As I mentioned before," he began, "I have a device which points the way toward certain mithral coins and-" Morier held out his arms wide."I don't have any money... mithral or otherwise," he said, frustration creeping into his voice. Then an expression of realization blossomed on his features. He patted his traveler's purse and nodded. "Maybe in the bag. It's a Valiant Vessel bag - a Handy Haversack. There's a lot of stuff in there that I haven't even looked at yet. Your coins might be in there, but I don't have the time to look right now." Cerrakean snorted in disgust nearby."I thought Ixin said this guy was an honorable man," the hobgoblin scoffed. "Isn't that what she said, Del?" Morier looked critically at Cerrakean and then at Del."Ixin?" the eldritch warrior asked. "How do you know Ixin?""We met her when we met Ayremac," Del explained, pointing back the way they'd come. "I tried to convince her to leave with us, but she's determined to stay and watch the duel." Morier nodded."Different Ixin," he said. "I knew a woman by that name, but-""She was reincarnated, genius," Cerrakean interjected waving her fingers in front of her face. "Comin' back from the dead tends to change folk. Or so I hear.""Speaking of hearing," Maleko said, looking back down the hall toward the spherical arena. "Does it sound awfully quiet back there, or is it just me?"The stunned silence of the githyanki stopped Morier in his tracks. Had Ayremac actually...? He paused for a moment at the oversized doors that were about to swing open for him and headed back in the direction of the imposing hush. His own speed outpaced Maleko and Cerrakean quickly and he slowed just a fraction in order to remain a measured distance behind. Ayremac hovered for a moment, sword in hand, other hand on the Gisir. There was no sound in the chamber apart from his own breathing; the githyanki seemed stunned into silence at their commander's death. Silently, and without moving his lips, the holy warrior prayed for his opponent to have an uninterrupted Walk of 100 Days and to ultimately stand before Umba for the true judgment that only she could provide.Ayremac thought briefly, as he often did when facing death - be it among friends or enemies - how much he doubted his own judgment of others. Could he truly know if the Gisir was evil, leading his people in their own customs? Certainly it was not the life that Ayremac had chosen, but who knew what path had led the githyanki to his current place? Of course, judgment was his duty and he upheld it to the best of his ability and without letting others know of his secret self-doubt.Quickly, Ayremac withdrew his sword and held it above his head, not avoiding the blood floating in the air as it painted his armor and splattered where it chose. He thought for a moment that the bloodier he looked the more respect he might actually find amongst this warrior clan. He circled slowly in place, meeting every githyanki stare.Ayremac then pulled the head of the Gisir back, and with one solid and passionate motion removed the head and pushed the body away. It tumbled off, leaking blood as it drifted.The chamber erupted in violent cheers and the clashing of weapons as the Officer's actions further inflamed the githyanki bloodlust.Indeed, Ayremac had triumphed and the group came upon the scene just as the Gisir's head was being mercifully and swiftly removed from his body. Morier knew that the Gisir would not have had the same compassion, but watching Ayremac take the high road was nothing new. That fact could be frustrating, but it was hard to fault his devotion. He could make a valuable ally. Standing solemnly, blood-stained, his own head held high and the head of the Gisir by his side, Ayremac waited for the crowd to settle. Then he addressed the githyanki. “I will claim my weapon but I offer this head to you, if you wish to honor your dead.”"If you do not wish the trophy then we will send the head back to Tu'narath, as is our custom," the githyanki translator spoke, gliding forward to swoop up the Gisir's sword, which had fallen free of his nerveless fingers. With the weapon in hand, he looked at Ayremac for what seemed to the holy warrior to be a moment too long. Ayremac stared back at him and the githyanki looked away, offering up the silver sword in to hands. He released his grip on the Gisir's topknot and took the blade, eager not to offend them by refusing it."I will take the additional sword of my choice and you can be rid of me," Ayremac said and the githyanki nodded deferentially."Of course. A bargain struck is a bargain honored," he said. "You may, of course, examine any of the weapons in Avik-tchai, but the Gisir's private collection contains the most impressive items." Ayremac nodded."A good place to start," he said and the githyanki gestured toward an opening in the side of chamber."Right this way," he said and led the way into a ten-sided chamber dominated by an enormous bat-winged throne on the far wall. The throne itself was flanked by a pair of intricately-worked columns. Each arm of the massive chair was carved into the shape of a snarling dragon, and a king's ransom in jewels glittered on the back of the throne. All this grandeur held Ayremac's attention for only a few moment's before he looked at the wall behind the throne.It was decorated by weapons of nearly every type Ayremac had ever seen and several that he couldn't identify. They were all arrayed in orderly racks and at a glance he guessed there to be a hundred weapons there. Maybe more.Nodding he turned the Ixin and handed her the Gisir's greatsword."I think we're going to need Maleko's help with this," he said.Morier floated with the group back to the throne room, surprised at the relative calm of the githyanki who had, after all, just watched thier leader's beheadding. "A strange people, to be sure" he thought to himself."The Bards of Brogine could not create words to adequately describe the glory you have achieved today," Maleko said, patting Ayremac approvingly on the shoulder. "Praise Umba for giving you the strength to achieve your goal."Del smiled and offered Ayremac his flask in admiration. "Such a battle has earned you this much," the marshall said, but the holy warrior refused."Offer again when we are through with this place," he said with a thin smile. Del considered, shrugged and took a long draw himself before slipping it back into its pocket. Maleko watched his friend critically and quickly changed the subject."So... one of these is your sword, is it?" the elf asked and Ayremac nodded."I was hoping that between you and Ixin, you might be able to narrow down the choices a bit," the holy warrior said and Maleko nodded back."I should be able to narrow down the choices to magical and non-magical with little trouble," Maleko said. "If we could wait until tomorrow I could pray for the ability to Detect Good. Surely a Holy sword would radiate that in abundance.""We haven't that kind of time," Ayremac cautioned, looking meaningfully at the armed contingent of githyanki waiting by the room's entrance. Mleko nodded."I see what you mean," he said and turned to Ixin. "I'll start on the left."The task was not as difficult as it first seemed. Most of the displayed weapons were not magical - which made sense given the nature of the githyanki. The most powerful weapons would be better served in the hands of able-bodied warriors rather than languishing unused in a wall-mount. And that was true here. There was a scattering of magic weapons - most of them sized inappropriately for use by githyanki - but of those that were the right size one was a sword.It was mounted high up on the wall, barely visible from the floor of the chamber. But once spotted, it was obviously the object of Ayremac's quest for it was etched in along the fuller with runes that spelled out its name in Celestial: FEDIFENSOR.Ayremac reached for the weapon when Ixin laid a hand on his arm. "Does that look familiar?" she asked, indicating an axe that hung on the wall nearby."What?!" Ayremac snapped, dragging his eyes away from the Holy sword with difficulty. He looked where his protege was pointing and his jaw dropped open in surprise. "It can't be!" he coughed.But it was.Hanging on the wall a few feet away from Fedifensor was another Holy weapon - one that Ayremac himself had had a hand in enchanting: Karak's waraxe.</blockquote>

Verification