Log:Broken Blade: Fernwood Discussion
| Date | Title | People |
| April 25, 2015 | Broken Blade: Fernwood Discussion | Kyson, Selia, Aevarr and Godwyn |
Kyson is seated at one of the tables, a few books opened around him as he seems to be writing in a journal or log. Deep in research, he only occasionally glances up or over to a small plate of sliced bread and cheese. The books, for those close enough to see, all have one thing in common; the kingdom of Rune. Histories of the Noble Families, records of battles and a roster of knights.
A woman in a pale blue robe with silver accents sits at said same table with Kyson, holding open one of the books. "So what is it you're looking for, exactly? I mean, I don't know if I can help, but I'll try my best."
Selia takes a slice of cheese, standing upon a chair and peering at the assorted books with bored curiousity. "It sumthin in particular ya lookin fer, or ya jus curious?" A thick Low Charn accent practically drips from the little Lutch's words.
...wait, when the heck did she show up?! She wasn't there a moment ago!
Kyson nearly spills his ink at the Lucht's words. Already committed to dipping his pen into the small bottle, he didn't notice the figure - standing on the table - until he was withdrawing it to write on the next line. "Whoa wha whou..." he spluters in a startled tone which is entirely less-than-manly. After quickly dabbing up the bits of spilled ink with an old rag - probably kept for just such an emergency - he glances up and offers, "I'm... trying to identify something."
Ah, another beautiful day in the city. Cold rain, heavy clouds to obscure most wramth and light, as well as a howling wind to steal whatever personal comfort remained. Did he mention that it was a beautiful day to be indoors in the city? Thus it is that Aevarr enters the pub in search of shelter, spirits, sustenance, and socialization.
Godwyn jumps, just slightly, at the sudden appearance of her fellow Charnite. Selia often appears in unexpected places, and while Godwyn was glad to see her... well in this case, hear her, she was not quite used to the Lucht's uncanny ability to supposedly appear from out of nowhere.
She takes in a breath and offers a genuine smile. "Good day, Selia." She clears her throat. "Well then, what are you trying to identify, master Kyson?" Because titles are important. Some things, they couldn't quite train out of Godwyn.
Selia peers a moment longer, nibbleing on the piece of Kyson's cheese, before hopping down to grab a stool so she can sit properly at the table and still see. It's hard being a Lutch. The Dancer's current oufit includes a charcoal grey shirt, cut low in the back, showing off her recently re-applied Slave Mark. For those who know the langauge of such things, the little Lutch is clearly marked as a highly trained dancer, a repeat trouble maker, and the owner of her own contract.
Kyson takes a moment to blow a few breaths on the page he was writing and then flips back a few pages to show a sketch of a broken longsword. "I'm trying to identify this sword," he begins. "It comes from Rune - and, oddly enough, was in my mother's possession for years until she gave it to me before I left our village. She said that it was her 'only inheritance'," he emphasizes the words as though they were more meaningful than the rest. "So...I'm trying to see if there's anything about the sword that I can find out in these books on the history of Rune's noble families."
Godwyn nods and peers at the sword for a brief moment. She shakes her head, unable to place the make or metal. With that, she takes one of the books and peruses through its contents. GAME: Godwyn rolls Nobility: aliased to Knowledge/Nobility: (7)+19: 26 to Kyson
You paged Godwyn with 'The sword is of a design that was commonly carried by the Eldritch knights of Rune. It was most probably a spell blade of some kind - at least by the design. Normally, there would be some kind of crest on the blade to tell what family it came from - but the mark is either gone, never put there or somehow disguised.
Now, who in their right mind would ever presume a Lucht to make trouble? Perhaps all, though Aevarr's musing is entirely rhetorical. He makes note of the motley colection as he makes his way to the bar and its keep in order to procure a mug for himself. "A fine day to congregate within such hallowed walls for such a rewarding sacrament, is it not?" His recently-obtained stein is lifted in an ale salute.
Godwyn closes the book. "That... belonged to a knight, all right." She takes in a breath. "My best guess? Spellblade. Can't determine the quality just from that portrait, and the crest is nowhere to be found, but it definitely belonged to one of the orders."
Selia peers a moment, but shrugs. "Rune ain't 'bout da swordsmen, but got plenty o' blades they made. Can't as them marks look familiar. Iffen ya ain't, try up on da Mountain, two blokes up there know all sorts of stuff. Da one, ya look for da rilly big sword, and da shop under it. Name o' Mikilos. Other, look fer da Mourners, bloke wit glasses and a shovel, name 'o Kerbasy." She glaces to Aevarr. "Didn't quite catch dat. Could ya try throwing in sum bigger words ta make a larger target?"
Kyson glances up to Godwyn and brushes back a bit of his bangs so that he can see her more clearly. The boy really should get a haircut. "Do..do you know much of the Orders, m'lady?" His tone is hesitant, though polite - as though he did not want to forcefully drag the woman into his own personal quest for knowledge but there's enough eagerness in his voice that says he would certainly not turn down any assistance. "I had an artificer test the metal. It's something called," he flips forward a few pages and reads a word - though pronounced oddly, "Adamantine or... Star-Metal."
Godwyn smiles and reaches for the five foot long sword propped against the back of her chair. She says nothing as she draws the blade... and reveals the distinctive black metal that still has an eerie reflective sheen.
Then she sheaths the weapon again. "Why do you ask?"
Aevarr lowers his mug from a sip to reveal a large smile for his small admirer. "But of course. There is no reason our stature must limit our desires, endeavors, nor vocabulary, after all." His mug swings to the side as he dips in a low bow to Selia. "I laud your intuition and appreciation of verbiage, my dear."
Selia rolls her eyes, but smiles despite herself. "Ya is aware 'long winded' ain't a compliment?" Turning focus back to Kyson, she nods. "Posh metal, don't use it meself."
Godwyn glances toward Selia. "Posh, is right. Almost nothing is made of it anymore, it's that rare. My sword is a very old, but very intact and well-preserved example. Friend of mine marked it as being from the Azure Kingdoms."
Kyson is visibly surprised that the woman would have such a weapon. "So would you say that this blade," he taps his book with the back end of his pen for emphasis, "...would be some kind of heirloom or relic maybe? Since... it's so rare."
Godwyn nods. "Heirloom, no. There are more common blades that are heirlooms. Mithril would be a better example of a family weapon. The metal is less rare and lasts just as long under the strain of time and the elements." She glances toward the broken blade again. "Relic though... definitely. Then it'd be just like mine." She glances at the sheathed weapon again. "You could say this one is... special."
Aevarr looses a short, soft chuckle. "I am well aware, though, as uncomplimentary apellations fare, 'long winded' is far from the most derogatory I have received. I assure that I can be quite silent and unnoticed, as well, when such is necessary." A trailing wink to Selia before he turns to comment on special inheritances and/or relics. "If the broken blade is identical to yours, does that not make it far less special? Certainly not unique, by definition." His casual smile lingers, implying mirth rather than malice in his comment.
Kyson grabs his book up off the table quickly and stuffs them into his satchel. Standing to leave he seems to have been struck with an idea. "I...thanks! That will help!" he bows to the paladin and glances back to the plate of food and just shrugs - leaving it for whomever.
Selia mmmms, and shrugs. "Ain't common by no means. But iffen ya head ta da market, might find a vendor what sells 'em. More like a huckster sellin fakes. Da Khazad pull out stoens fell long ago from their mines, artificers use it in some works. So rare, but not sure much as ta make a great lead for ya, I'm a thinkin."
Selia blinks, and gives Aevarr a long look, pondering.
Godwyn chuckles. "See you again then, Kyson." She glances toward Aevarr. "Perhaps you have a point. But I say it again, not too much is made of Adamantine anymore. So weapons like mine? Unique and rare."