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Shattered Mirror

Back at the campground

The campsite is deserted, the ashes of the fire cold. Was it really only a day and a half ago that you had sat here and shared food and stories? Much of your kit lies here where you had left it, abandoned. Your weapons, taken from your unconscious bodies, are in a neat pile.

As the legion reaches the campsite Jamal gives orders for the legion to retrieve their equipment, giving strict instructions to the more flighty followers that this was not a looting mission and that only legion property should be collected.

This done he quickly moves to recover his property especially Bull Spike, and his helmet Gore.

As he does this he notices that Hrolf has been rather quiet of late. "Friend Hrolf", he calls "come I would discuss legion business now that the Waleesha cannot hold the mantle of ten"

Getting no response he turns to Blackbeak, "Tell me" he asks "what ails your lord ?"

Before Blackbeak can reply, Hrolf turns to face Jamal.
Whereupon Hrolf collapses and the Durulz rush to his side.

Jamal looks at Hrolf quizzically, "Perhaps we will." When Hrolf collapses he helps Blackbeak drag him to the centre of the campsite.

With a nod to those he had been talking to, Landros quickly leaves to find Starbright and appears relieved that she is unharmed. The coal-black star-iron unblemished. Sythar had arrived before the others and had alreday found his equipment, he seemed to be counting the few clacks he had left in his pouch. He'd had a lot more when they'd left Alda Chur, but probably spent it all on whores in Pavis. Landros wondered if he'd made a mistake with Sythar. Kaylee was helping Caern, who still seemed a bit groggy. This was beginning to worry him, head wounds were so unpredictable, but the girl had apparantly managed to get help from some of the other healers. It was a nuisance, the boy had initiated while they were in Pavis and Humakt had seen fit to give him the geas of not accepting healing from anyone but his own followers. Landros knew little of those arts himself, one of the reasons he had agreed to let Kaylee join them, but who would see to Caern when they left this group? He would have to see to that somehow. And Kaylee was still carrying that child around! She really should turn it over to someone. But, time enough for all this later. Everyone needed rest now.

Dori's sword, unlike the rest, is still close to where she had been sitting, and is half-drawn from its scabbard. Is it your imagination, or is the grass next to it slightly burnt?

The sight wakes her from her daze - or at least, refocuses her attention - and she runs over to it, grabs it, checks it lovingly for damage. Nothing seems amiss at first sight, and she strokes the edge, tries a few passes, finding that the enchantments that give it its lightness and speed are still present. "Looks like they didn't harm it", she remarks. She sounds normal enough, but is still totally ignoring everything but this. "Let's see if it can still call the Light..." She touches the rune on the blade, and as the Legion have seen often enough before, Daylight shines forth from it, dazzling even against the afternoon sun. She lets it die again. "Fine. And we won't know about the rest until we meet some trolls."

She resheathes the sword, straps the scabbard back on to her belt, but her hand stays on the pommel, stroking it lovingly.

Landros watches this whole display with mounting surprise and with some confusion. How could this be, could he be right? He looks around, but as far as he can tell noone else has noticed anything strange. Puzzled and uncommonly uncertain he approaches the woman. "Lady, will you show me the blade?"

She holds it protectively - Humakti are always protective and possessive of their swords, of course, but this seems more than the usual. But after the initial hesitiation: "Sure." She draws it, holds it so he can see the blade and the runes on it, but does not offer it to him.

It's a fine rapier (OOC note: that's a C15 cutting sword, not a later knitting needle) of Esrolian design, covered in runes and engraving, much of it inactive but five areas showing quiescent life.

Landros smiles a quick thanks and, without touching the sword leans closer. It is a fine blade, not a style he'd use personally - given a choice - but very good craftmanship. He carefully passes a hand over the the runes and suddenly something flickers briefly. Surprised, he takes an involuntary step backwards and gives Dori a puzzled look. "I, I'm not sure but I think you have a light daemon in there, one of Yelmalio's."

"I've got what?" She stares at him in complete bewilderment, at the sword, then back at him, but his sincerity, and genuine puzzlement, are obvious.

"A reflarting, or something very like it, lady."

She runs a finger over the various enchantments marked on the blade and hilt as if seeing them for the first time. "I suppose.... I never did know how this was made. We all got together, seven-times-seven of us, took our geases, and put our Gifts into it. Swore our allegiance to the Truelight. And went off to the Shadow Plateau. All the leaders died there - us juniors never had the chance to find out what had really been done. Most of the Gifts are gone now, of course."

His brow furrows slightly thinking it must have been a great need, or desperation that prompted such an action. Seven times seven Humakti. He had heard similar stories in Esrolia, but nothing quite like this.

Usually these swords were for novices and many thought the practice dubious at best. His own feelings on the matter were clear, playing wagers with the gifts of the God was an affront. A diminishing of him. Though, this time it seemed born out of something else than greed.

She's thinking back, trying to make sense of her scattered memories. "I know it calls the daylight to dazzle enemies. It doesn't like trolls - it's supposed to fight better against them, but it's more than that, it hums and tries to draw itself when it encounters them. I suppose if there's a daemon in there, that would make sense? I don't know much about Yelmalio's daemons, though."

"A Troll Killer." The former Yelmalion doesn't sound too unhappy about that. "But how could a reflarting end up in a humakti sword, as a gift of Humakt?" He gives her a searching look, his gray eyes calm and without challenge - but questioning. "Unless, but I've never... No, that still doesn't make sense. Lady, do you know whose gift it was?"

"The way Belonni explained it, the Truelight was the Light against the Darkness, borne by Humakt's vassal Elmalo, slayer of trolls and chief fighter against the Dark Hater... come to think of it, it made a lot more sense when he said it than when I hear it now. I probably didn't understand it properly, but he was very convincing at the time. Or maybe I've forgotten something. If I could just keep track of what I've forgotten and what's come back and what order it was all in..."

"It was all in such a rush at the time, that was the trouble. We'd been tallking about it, exchanging ideas, the way one does in Nochet. And then we heard, the trolls had captured an Earth priestess - she was a local queen, too. And her daughter came to us for help - that's Kristen. So we did everything in more of a hurry than we probably should have done. We knew we had several hundred trolls to handle, in their own element, under the Shadow Plateau. So we put together the best weapon we could, swore our oaths to it, and gave it to the best fighter - no need for more duels, we all knew who that was. And when he died, the next best took it, and so on... by the time we got out, there were thirteen of us left, and I was holding the sword."

She's lost in memory again, still ignoring everything but this one subject, but this time the memories seem to be less nightmarish than those returned to her by the Mirror.

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