(Corvin/Troy/Luca): Sword of the Fallen

[archolewa]

June 12th

Corvin and Jalko inquire with Ol' Will about finding someone worthy who
could make good use of the fallen Mordred's sword.

"I know a group. They're doing work for the Princess. Good people. Courageous people,
and one of their leaders, a fellow named Troy, uses a longsword," says Ol' Will.
"I'll get a meetup arranged. You'll be heading over to the Temple. They had a
nasty run-in with some Undead out on the Bonefield beyond the main gate, and they're
recovering."

The Bonefield is the wide open plain that sits just outside the Thorncity gates to the East.
It was here that the bulk of the Kinslayer's army layed siege to Thorncity, and it was here
that they tore themselves apart the day the Kinslayer died. Every since that horrific night,
the field has been shrouded in a dense mist, and littered with the remains of the countless
monsters who died that night. Apparently, not all those remains are remaining as still as
they should.

That afternoon, Corvin, Jalko, Astrid, Sebastian and Kasper make their way to
the Temple, and enter a small bedchamber.

A bandaged Lupine man lays in the bed. He is more slender than Corvin, with
longer, narrower ears but a similar coloring. A tall, athletic human woman with
long, braided blonde hair sits on a bench nearby, her throat wrapped in
bandages. A short, redheaded freckled young woman with boyshort hair sits next
to her, humming happily to herself. She wears a spriggan of mistletoe on her
shoulder, much like Sebastian's, marking her as a Druid.

A man stands beside the Lupine, holding a mandolin. He is wearing elaborate (though
perhaps a bit worn) clothing, complete with a large, elaborately feathered hat.
On the Lupine's other side is a woman of a comparable age to the man, though
shorter and having the gauntness that suggests one of the many poor city
residents scraping by on odd jobs.

Meanwhile, Luca and Troy watch as the group Ol' Will told them about files in.
A group who'd lost an ally, and was looking for someone to take up their fallen
friend's enchanted sword. The group is lead by a tall, sturdy Lupine, who looks
a fair bit more bestial than Troy. Clearly, this Lupine has seen extensive
combat recently. A grimfaced halfling man follows after.

Following them is a short, but solidly built dark-haired young human woman. Her
face is drawn, and there is a tension about her as if she is consciously
holding herself together. Two human men follow after. One bears the symbol of a
cleric of the Seer, belonging to the Order of the Weeping Eye. He is short by
human male standards and slender, but he watches things with alert, sharp eyes.
Following behind him is a taller, but similarly slender man with a relaxed and
easy smile. Like Akiri, he has a sprig of mistletoe on his shoulder marking him
as a Druid.

His smile falters a little when he sees the redheaded Druid.
"Akiri."

Akiri grins. "Sebastian! Last I heard, you'd settled in some village,
scolding crops that didn't grow fast enough."

"I was," says Sebastian, raising his eyebrows at 'scolding.'
"But then some of my villagers were kidnapped, so I came to Thorncity
looking for help from a friend. The old owner of this sword."

Akiri winces. "Oh. Umm, right. Sorry."

Sebastian nods in acknowledgement. "And what about you? Seems the Grand
Druid finally got you out of his hair."

Akiri grins, and clears her throat. "Yup! Luca here..."

Akiri jerks her thumb at the guy with the broad hat. "Asked if I wanted
to join his harem. I said sure."

The blonde woman groans and buries her face in her hands. "Burn it, Akiri. I can't take you anywhere."

Sebastian sighs, and gives Corvin a long-suffering look.

[Juramenta]

Luca steps forward, spreading his arms wide open towards the group entering.
''Welcome, our newest friends that we hadn't had the pleasure of meeting yet. Make yourselves at home'' as if inviting them to his personal house, well if he even had one to start with.
''I heard you had fallen upon hard times; my sincere condolences for your fallen friend'' taking off his hat and making a bow out of respect.

[shaidar]

Corvin

The lupine nods "Thank you for your condolences. I'm Corvin, this is Jalko, Astrid, Kasper and Sebastian..." as he speaks each name he gestures in turn to the halfling, the woman, the cleric and finally the druid "...although it seems some of you already know Sebastian." a small smile touches his lips "The sword belonged to our friend Mordred. He fell while we were saving some people kidnapped and taken beyond the wall. None of us have skill in it. So we thought we might find someone who could use it, someone who might use it in a way that Mordred would approve of. Ol' Will suggested your group. Are you interested? Do you have something to trade for it, or coin?"

Corvin removes a wrapped bundle he was carrying across his back. Unrolling it he reveals a bastard sword of exceptional quality. "We think it might be dwarven made."

Those in the room will note that this 'feral looking' lupine has a small child's teddy bear attached to his belt.

[Edeldhur]

Jalko observes in silence, grim faced as usual.

[archolewa]

Akiri squeals and pulls on Gwen's arm. "Gwenny, look. That guy's got a teddy bear! Isn't that the most adorable thing you ever did see? A big, tough vicious looking Lupine with an adowable wittle teddy bear! Can I have a teddy bear?"

Gwen rolls her eyes. "You have the silver. I'm sure you could commission one from someone."

Akiri flutters her eyes at Gwen. "Or you could make one for me."

"Why in the Seer's name..."

Akiri just smiles.

Gwen blushes. "How do you know I even know how to make one?"

"You were telling me just the other day about the doll you made for your niece before her family went West," says Akiri.

Gwen sighs. "No promises."

"That's basically a yes." Akiri grins.

[shaidar]

Corvin

Used to far worse things being said about the bear he simply rolls his eyes and turns to Sebastian "... the real reason you left for the village?" a faint smile takes the sting from his words.

[archolewa]

Sebastian's expression says it all.

[Juramenta]

Luca goes by everyone personally to shake their hand.
If anyone refuses, he simply nods with a gentle smile and moves on to the next one.
''After such a disastrous event, it must be hard to move on from. At least we can be certain Mordred will be able to rest easy, as we do indeed have someone with the skill that matches such exquisite craftsmanship.
Sir Troy here, a man who has demonstrated he lives up to all the stories told about him, our savior in times of need. Willing to give his life in order to protect ours. Fighting off death as a result of it.
If there is any man alive worthy of wielding this sword. It would be him. On that, I give you my word.

I do have a question, more of an observation, really. I heard talk of compensation, and of course, for many magical items, that is both fair and expected. They are treasures in their own right.
But this blade… this is no mere relic. It is the passing of a legacy from one master to another. A warrior's soul embedded in steel. Are you certain you wish to reduce such a sacred tradition to the weight of coin?
I truly hope I do not cause offence by asking, as that is truly not my intent. I only wonder if the sword’s history deserves more than a price tag''

[shaidar]

Corvin

Corvin smiles at Luca "Sir Troy?" his gaze briefly goes to the seemingly inexperienced lupine on the bed before returning to Luca "I've not heard those stories. As for the sword, while I am sure that Mordred would want the sword to remain in the hands of someone dedicated to protecting The Refuge, I also believe that since he cannot use it to protect his friends himself any more, then he would want us to get something to meet that end in it's place."

[Juramenta]

"Of course.
It was merely curiosity that led me to inquire further on it. I meant no disrespect and I shall press the matter no more" Luca responds as he turns to Troy.
''Are you well enough to speak with Corvin? There’s no urgency if you’re not yet feeling up to it. This can wait until you’ve regained your strength" he asks giving the wounded man a bit of a worried look.