A Tale of a Sword

This is a tale that happened in the past, which was known to those knowing who to ask. I decided to write my own memories and thoughts regarding it. I was the Keeper of Tainted, Khalazdad’s sword, stolen from him in a moment of his weakness.

After a long time I decided that the sword that should be hidden was not and that was mainly my own fault: I did not keep it secretive enough. Tainted, Khalazdad’s sword, was known too much with me keeping it. I never said anything, but apparently people knew.

Danger was approaching, and my trusted friend Zleiphneir told me about it. He heard rumors Granos wanted to take it, and that I was in danger. We met in secrecy, and he laid out all that he knew. I soon was convinced that I had to do something, drastic measures, to prevent this vile sword of slaying people again. The Breaking

I went to the place where a blacksmith worked, and asked him for his help. Grudgingly the other agreed, so we started to use strong hammers to bend the blade. Everything progressed slowly, but surely. After a full day of work the sword broke into 7 shards.

I would have not imagined the blade to be so enduring, to hard to break. My muscles were aching, sweat was dripping down. The hammer felt heavier and heavier until I was satisfied with the size of the fragments.

That was the time when I was especially surprised. A small sphere, seemingly out of silver, yet from the smith examined as something he never saw, dropped out of the hilt. A note was attached, saying:

You broke what others treasure. Keep this as a gift.

Thinking of the aura each of the shards emitted, I decided to coat each of them with some glass, but as I was not careful with three shards I could still feel a bit of power emitting of them…but as it was weakened I was satisfied. Then, I pocketed my belongings and set out to hide them, keeping one of the powerful shards himself and spreading the others.

Through forest and mountain, seashore and desert: I hid all of them well, or so I thought. The Ending

But shortly, a few days after I had hid them all, DarkPriestess (known as Peace) arrived in front of me. She knew I had the last shard, and had gathered a considerable amount herself, in a quest I can only imagine how hard it was.

She then asked her brother MalichiW to get those shards she was missing. Having completed the collection she went to the place where the sword was broken. And there she placed each of the shards together, as they were before. The result was immediately, the glassy borders melted and the sword was whole again.

But...the glass remained.

This was the time when she remember the last advice of mine, which I gave rather indifferent, as a conclusion when she asked me for the part I had: She followed it and was amazed that the glass, which resisted to everything she tried so far, melted down like butter. Had she not remembered, or not convinced me to tell it to her, she may not have gotten the blade freed.

But, she did all this, and so Tainted was existing again, full, only lacking that sphere which I kept.

That was the time she carefully extended her hand towards the hilt and grabbed it...and as soon as she got cut, a story was visible to her.

She saw what I saw during the time when I took the Blade. The Illusion

“I reached down and plucked Khalazdad's sword from the Earth. Pain coursed through my hand as the handle shredded the bare skin there.

I swore and dropped the blade, but not before it told me a story...

An enemy is the maker and marker of a warrior. In a place far and far from this, two warriors met on the field of battle. The strove against each other for hours, and then for days, each growing mightier in the sight of the other.

Strength was taken for strength. Neither warrior was prepared to die, only to grow greater and greater.

Witnessing this battle, and revolted by the glory obtained in life by the warriors, the High Priest Cattarh ordered a blade made - a blade of poison and potency. Wrapped around the handle were barbs of lead and metal found in rocks that fell from the sky.

To one of the warriors he presented the blade. He told him that to defeat his enemy, he must wield the blade against him.

This was done. The two rejoined in battle one day on the road to Jodpur. The battle ended quickly, with Cattarh's champion falling in pain and madness.

But his enemy fell, also: when it was shown that Cattarh's champion had fallen by his own hand, not by fair combat, his enemy's reputation was ruined. He became an object of mockery, and could not find decent employment even as a caravan guard.

The greatest victory of all went to Cattarh, who no longer had to witness such ostentatious self aggrandizement.

I picked up the sword by the blade, carefully, and sheathed it. I was ever careful thereafter not to grasp the handle. “

Many wondered where the blade went to, but only I knew directly afterwards. How it spread was unknown to me. I always suspected the blade to have some sort of substance on the hilt which induced hallucinations or madness…I never knew, for I never wished to try. What I only know was that the sword emitted a vile aura, while the silvery sphere just emitted a mysterious one. It seemed harmless, and I still don’t know the properties yet.