Difference between revisions of "Third-Arm Glaive"

From RPGnet
Jump to: navigation, search
Line 1: Line 1:
−
The Third-Arm Glaive is a war-spear with a five foot long haft of still-fragrant applewood capped by a two foot long, razor sharp blade of balanced orichalcum and steel.  The tanka, where blade and haft meet, is red jade forged into the shape of a tightly coiled dragon.  In its jaws and two front claws the dragon clutches the pennon from which the glaive takes its name - a ten foot long sash of red-dyed orichalcum cloth that flutters even when there is no breeze.  The dragon's rear claws are empty and open, each waiting to clutch a hearthstone.
+
"A war-spear with a five foot haft of applewood that still smells sweet, capped by a two foot long, razor sharp blade of balanced orichalcum and steel.  The tanka, where they meet, is red jade into the shape of a tightly coiled dragon that always seemed to smirk at my imprisonment.  The things rear claws were open, I think for hearthstones, but the front claws and the jaw, they held a sash, ten feet long, red-dyed orichalcum cloth, twisting even without a breeze.  Have I got it?  Is that what you saw?
  
−
Centuries ago, ??? forged the Glaive for Kahroba, the name that [[Storm of Amber]] wore in the First Age.  Kahroba rode where few Solars followed and often needed a helping hand.  What better hand than one as fit and loyal as his own; the Glaive's sash was forged with a sliver's of Karroba's own essence.  The spear served well, until the fateful day that Kahroba put himself between the mortals he loved and the fury of his brother Solars.  Sensing its master's misgivings, the spear hesitated to strike and in that moment of doubt, Kahroba was lost.  The Solars buried Kahroba well and would have destroyed the Glaive but, furious as they were at their brother's seeming betrayal, ???'s pride would not let him see his craft undone.  Rather than destroy the spear, he bound it away in the far reaches of the Summer Mountains and set the second circle demon [[Karacalla]], the Gorge of a Stillborn Promise, to guard it for all eternity. 
+
"Then yes, that's the Third-Arm Glaive.   
  
−
And so things stayed for centuries, until Storm of Amber took the Second Breath a little over a year ago.  Though not truly intelligent, the spear is self-motivated and knows its master.  Even without the essence of commitment to bind them together, the two are close to one.  The Third-Arm Glaive wrapped its red-dyed sash around Karacalla's neck, pulling tight and choking out its unholy life.  The demon crawled back to Malfeas, an oath to destroy the spear bubbling out of its mouth along with its black blood, even as the Glaive began to make its ponderous way north, through the land of the Jungle Tribes and across the River Province.  With the sash pulling it along the ground like an inchworm, it crossed the miles, passing occasionally into the hands of men, where it would wrap tight around their wrists until they had carried it further along its path.  It was a long, tortuous journey, but the spear eventually reached the hand of its master.
+
"Of course I'm sure!  I spent a thousand years and more with nothing to look at but that thing.  Do you think I'd forget? 
 +
 
 +
"How?  Some Solar or other made it in the First Age and gave it to [[Storm of Amber|his friend]], but when things came down to it, the Solars fought each other and the one with the spear lay down dead.  That's when they called me.  They were afraid of the thing - they'd made it from a piece of the soul of the Solar who held it, and they thought it might come after them for revenge.  But they couldn't just destroy it; they were too proud of their work making it for that.  So they set me to guard it.  They put me in a cave in the Summer Mountains and made me swear to keep the thing safe inside with me.  If those stupid humans hadn't wandered in every now and again, I would've gone mad.  Instead I got a nice coat.  The leather's very soft.  That was my thousand years. 
 +
 
 +
"Free?  I died, that's how.  The damn thing killed me.  Wrapped its sash around my throat and pulled tight until my black blood spilled out of my mouth and I wound up back here.  I thought maybe the thing had just come to hate looking at me as much as I hate it, but from what you're telling me...  Well, I can picture it, pulling itself along the miles like an inchworm, wrapping around the hand of a man until he took it further north, all so it could get to its master reborn.  Maybe it just knew that he was back.
 +
 
 +
"If the thing hadn't killed me, I'd still be stuck there, bored and staring at it.  I'm thankful to the thing.  So thankful that I won't rest until I've snapped it in two, chewed the pieces into slivers and shat out its sweet-smelling remains."
 +
 
 +
-- ''[[Karacalla]], Gorge of a Stillborn Promise, Demon of the Second Circle, Expressive Soul of the Ravine of Whispers''
  
  
 
----
 
----
 
[[Heaven's Mandate]]
 
[[Heaven's Mandate]]

Revision as of 13:02, 4 June 2006

"A war-spear with a five foot haft of applewood that still smells sweet, capped by a two foot long, razor sharp blade of balanced orichalcum and steel. The tanka, where they meet, is red jade into the shape of a tightly coiled dragon that always seemed to smirk at my imprisonment. The things rear claws were open, I think for hearthstones, but the front claws and the jaw, they held a sash, ten feet long, red-dyed orichalcum cloth, twisting even without a breeze. Have I got it? Is that what you saw?

"Then yes, that's the Third-Arm Glaive.

"Of course I'm sure! I spent a thousand years and more with nothing to look at but that thing. Do you think I'd forget?

"How? Some Solar or other made it in the First Age and gave it to his friend, but when things came down to it, the Solars fought each other and the one with the spear lay down dead. That's when they called me. They were afraid of the thing - they'd made it from a piece of the soul of the Solar who held it, and they thought it might come after them for revenge. But they couldn't just destroy it; they were too proud of their work making it for that. So they set me to guard it. They put me in a cave in the Summer Mountains and made me swear to keep the thing safe inside with me. If those stupid humans hadn't wandered in every now and again, I would've gone mad. Instead I got a nice coat. The leather's very soft. That was my thousand years.

"Free? I died, that's how. The damn thing killed me. Wrapped its sash around my throat and pulled tight until my black blood spilled out of my mouth and I wound up back here. I thought maybe the thing had just come to hate looking at me as much as I hate it, but from what you're telling me... Well, I can picture it, pulling itself along the miles like an inchworm, wrapping around the hand of a man until he took it further north, all so it could get to its master reborn. Maybe it just knew that he was back.

"If the thing hadn't killed me, I'd still be stuck there, bored and staring at it. I'm thankful to the thing. So thankful that I won't rest until I've snapped it in two, chewed the pieces into slivers and shat out its sweet-smelling remains."

-- Karacalla, Gorge of a Stillborn Promise, Demon of the Second Circle, Expressive Soul of the Ravine of Whispers


Heaven's Mandate

Retrieved from "https://wiki.rpg.net/index.php?title=Third-Arm_Glaive&oldid=25084"