«So it is done», said Fhago Kwideus,
sticking the gold-edged blade in the earth. «This is the end».
«I wouldn’t put it so», said Kaalu
Brazo softly, watching the young man above his hands, crossed on the heavy
staff. «You did well. You recovered the legendary sword, Aghapea».
«But it was no use», muttered Fhago.
«The barbarian tribe and the griffon pride massacred each other while I was away».
The village was a mound of bloody
ruins. Corpses of men, women and great winged beasts were scattered here and
there, along with deep claw and axe cuts. Both tribes had to fight to the
last one.
«Couldn’t you stop them till I was
back?» asked Fhago in a whisper.
«It was none of my business»,
answered the arcanist calmly. «I only had to see that you accomplished your
last trial. And you did. I have taught you well».
The young hunter made an angry
gesture. He had lived with the barbarians for months, trying to learn their
ways, in an effort to understand the mission assigned to him by his mentor. He
was appointed an honorary tribesman. Much to his amazement, he had learned and
discovered more than he had expected from them. Their joy of life and sense of
honor earned his admiration, and while drinking and hunting with them, he had
found in himself something beyond his martial training and nature powers.
Something wild. Something which only could be called… rage.
The tribe had lived in peace with
the great griffons, once. They were their totem. Both communities thrived and
flourished together. Each young warrior bonded with a cub, and the two would be
companions for life, hunting and fighting together, sharing their food and
drink like brothers. Humans and beasts protected together the holy relic, the
blade entrusted to them generations ago, that no one was permitted to touch or
remove from its place.
And when the sword was stolen, tribe
and pride blamed each other for the misdeed. And it was a decade-long war.
Fhago had hoped to end all that and
bring peace again, by finding the sword and the real thief. He had succeeded.
But too late.
His adoptive brethren and the proud eagle
felines would never have known of the succubus who had delighted in breaking
their bond, taking the relic for herself. She laughed at them, when Fhago found
her. Now she would have laughed no more. But what for?
«My mother taught me magic», he said
to Brazo. «You taught me the ways of your Guild…»
«As your father asked me to do»,
nodded the arcanist.
«And they taught me their anger, and
what’s left of all that? And my father said that I was chosen by the
Redemptress, just like him».
«And you have proved worthy indeed».
«But I can’t be a paladin», said
wearily Fhago, extracting the holy sword from the soil. «The Order told me. Not
with this… anger inside me. And I saved nobody, in the end. What worth have I
proved?»
«You tried», said Brazo, firmly. «With all your might, and magic and
rage. Hasn’t this a value in itself? And while I don’t bother with gods, the
Redemptress is a… very strange-minded goddess, you could say. Your father was
no ordinary paladin. Neither you will be».
«But…»
«Your might was not enough now. But
you will grow. And then you will be able to save someone. Rescuing the Sword of
Love was not a deed for weaklings. She recognizes that. She will help you to
grow even stronger, henceforth».
The arcanist had talked about the
sword as if it were a woman. Fhago lifted it and watched as for the first time
the golden and rose hues of the dazzling blade.
«Besides», added Brazo, «maybe all’s
not lost. Hardly ever is something completely lost, in this world».
Fhago turned as the arcanist
pointed.
A griffon cub, hardly a few weeks
old, was coming towards them, staggering on all four pads, with a whining shriek.
Fhago took it in his arms in astonishment. The little thing purred, closing its
eyes. It had a beautiful red-brown striped fur and two little white-feathered
wings folded on its back, still unable to fly.
«He, the last of his pride», said
Brazo. «And you, the last of the Griffon Knights tribe. Don’t waste this omen.
Who can say what will you two accomplish in the future?»
Without a word, Fhago put the sword
in its scabbard and turned away, cradling the cub.
It would be a long way to the
capital city. But he had never feared long travels.
The sun, before them, was rising.
The Seven Swords of Virtue
“Look at the sun. Could it shine without the mountain barring it? Why,
yes, it DOES actually- just, we can’t see it.
And could the mountain cast a shadow without the sun? Of course not.
So don’t believe all those stories on balance between good and evil, lad.
Light CAN shine without darkness- but darkness couldn’t exist without light.”
-Kaalu Brazo
The fabled Seven Swords of Virtue
have been searched by adventurers since when some sages speculated that, if
only for a mere reason of cosmic and ethical balance, there could, there even must have been opposites to the vicious Seven
Swords of Sin- with comparable powers, or even greater, according to those who
believe good to be superior to evil.
The legend was believed to be mere
speculation, until recently a young hero provided the first solid evidence to
the theory, finding and rescuing the first of the Seven- Aghapea, the Sword of
Love. Since then, the number of searchers for the remaining six blades is
dramatically increased.
The quest to find the Swords of
Virtue seems to be linked to the spreading cult of a mysterious minor goddess
or saint, called the Redemptress. She’s believed to have hidden them in the
most unknown corners of the world, each guarded by mighty good creatures- each
waiting for a worthy champion to wield it against evil…
Aghapea, Sword of Love (Minor Artifact)
Aura Strong abjuration and enchantment;
CL 18th
Slot —; Price — Weight 4 lbs.
Description
The handle and blade of this beautiful sword are pure, shining gold
magically reinforced, with rose-tinged reflexes. Aghapea is a NG intelligent +2 merciful longsword and communicates empathically with her
wielder (she has a warm female personality). Any evil character trying
to wield the blade suffers the effects of burning
disarm (5d4 hp of damage), in addition to taking a negative level as long
as she holds it. (Were it not so, Fhago
wouldn’t have been able to win against the succubus. A less-than-wise succubus,
that one, indeed. –Note by Brazo).
A good wielder is under a permanent eagle’s
splendor effect for as long as he holds the blade. Whenever Aghapea is used for total defense or fighting
defensively, an attacking opponent (wielder’s choice) must make a DC 20 Will
save or fall under the effects of a stay
the hand spell, incapable to hit the wielder or any one other creature
designated by the wielder. If the sword scores a critical hit, the target must
make a DC 25 Will save or be affected by overwhelming
presence, seeing the wielder as a wrathful angel or saint.
Destruction
Aghapea utterly crumbles
into nothingness if used to kill the one true love of the wielder, knowingly
and deliberately (not under any enchantment effect).
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