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Stories of Weapons throughout the Dream

Lore, history and other content by the citizens of Underlight preserved for posterity.
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Neil
Dreamer
Posts: 19
Joined: Thu Sep 28, 2017 8:02 pm
Character Name(s): Neil
Location: Michigan

Stories of Weapons throughout the Dream

Post by Neil »

I was asked to gather stories from several dreamers regarding any lore of weapons they know. These are there stories:

Personal story as told by Dimitri Raith--
Back in Idoloclesia there was this sword. It was originally weilded by the dreamer Sorgen. Sorgen was convinced that he was a demon, so he acted chaotic and evil, but was quite tormented about it, so very tormented. Like, sit in a corner brooding about it. So, of course he would attract a woman. Unfortunately, that woman was my sister, Syrra, but not by sister by blood. Anyway... some nonsense happened shortly after the beast plague. So, Sorgen did some strange mental gymnastics to convince Syrra to take up his demon blade...before fading off into ether and disappearing. Little bastard could have taken the blade with him, but no, that would be too easy. So, he leaves this young girl holding a possessed blade that whispers to her and tells her to kill. Now, Syrra wasn't a very popular dreamer. She was one of the "blueberries", but the least important of the three. I don't say that to be insulting, it's just a sad truth. Arpeggia, their matriarch, was a master teacher. Anasina was an apprentice and, well, a bit of an attention seeker. Syrra was the one who just kinda faded into the background. So, anyway... I was able to break the blade's hold over her, she willingly passed it on to me. Upon which I promptly told the ridiculous piece of metal to kindly shut the fuck up. I carried it for a few years... but Syrra never fully recovered. She became more and more depressed. Then one day she faded from the city. I carried the blade until I abandoned Idoloclesia. When I arrived here, it was gone, along with all the other items in my pack.

Personal story as told by Arnaya--
Two weapons that I always have on me are pretty straight forward and plain ones. The spear is three and half feet long, with a broad leaf blade and a full length steel tang that runs the length of its oaken shaft. The dagger is a simple one as well. A foot long, with a broad double edged blade, and leather wrapped hilt with only a slight bulge instead of quillions.

The spear was a replacement that my father made for me after our farmstead got attacked one night. I slew two of the raiders before they could start any fires, and went after a third that was trying to get behind one of our hands as he was fending off another. The raider heard me coming and spun with a full out swing of his sword. I tried to block it with my spear, and his blade cleaved straight through... only a frantic backwards dive saved me from having the blade sheathed in my chest.

I managed to get one of my knives out and threw it underhanded from the ground as the raider stepped forward to finish me off. The next day, my father walked up and pressed this spear into my hand, telling me that if I was going to insist on being in fights, I should have a weapon that wouldn't fail me when I needed it most, then gave me a quick hug and walked away quickly. He was right... it has never failed me.

The dagger was a gift from my mother after I'd been brought home (A small group of raiders had ambushed and captured me, my father, brothers, and several hands came to get me). I'd slept for the better part of 3 days solid afterwards, and when I woke up... My mother had this sitting on my bedside table. She'd had one of our smiths make it out of folded steel, and spent two evenings going over how I could carry it where it wouldn't be found, but I could still get to it when I needed it, teaching me some routines and drills with it, and modifying some of my skirts to allow for me to carry it constantly.

House weapons as told by Uthanatos--
About a year ago, the work began. Originally, we were meant to create a blade, unique to every member of the house. As happens, we started work, and it got put on hold, and we started work again, over several months...

The Calenture Claymore: Olive green wood surrounded by silver in a leaf pattern forms the handle of a blade taller than the average man. Stylized silver butterfly wings inlaid with translucent leaf green enamel filigrees around a vibrant green pear shaped emerald that shimmers with blues and purples. The blade itself is lightly engraved and tapers from the middle.

The Spear of Calenture: A three foot long spear with a broad, leaf bladed tip that glistens with a viscous, clear liquid. The blade takes up nearly a foot and a half of the weapons total length, and appears to have been grown around by the smooth shaft. A rounded amethyst protrusion can be seen at the base of one side of the blade, and the wood pulses noticeably when held. The Dual Triune of Calenture glows a soft green light in several places along the spear's haft.

The Sword of Calenture: This small blade is elegant, yet small enough to conceal, the blade itself is approximately one hand in length, with small protruding bladecatchers at the base, sharpened to act as spikes when stabbing fully to the hilt. The Dual Triune of Calenture glows a venomous green from both sides of the blade.

Each person gathered the materials for their own blade, decided on the design and as a group, we worked to smelt the materials in preparation. There were nine blades intended, but only five smelted. Again, we had to put off the work for a while. Only five members got their materials together and showed up for smelting. Well, as things happen, the city ebbed. Many dreamers were dreaming less, and it ended up just Arnaya, Arlyana Jax, and I who forged our blades, then came here to empower them. We imbued them with power tokens and called out to the house, each in our own voice, no pre-scripted nonsense, our own hearts, our own words. A great many poison clouds were set off to help imbue them, so much so that the room was so thick with poison we could hardly see. The prime pulsed and we were all pushed from the room, layers of a hard green substance covered both entrances. Try as we might, we could not get in. We decided to wait for three days before trying anything drastic. And in two, the material covering the portals crumbled away. The blades were here, as we had left them, though imbued with the poison of the house, and primed to the city. The blades of Calenture, 2 SoulMaster, one DreamSeer. I have carried mine a few times, though, I'm leery of doing so. I carried it with me when Agonarius first returned.

Personal story as told by Uthanatos--
My shard, the gods abandoned us, before I was born, but my parents were young at the time. After a while, people started becoming restless, no fear, no repercussions to their actions, and anarchy became the norm. The clergy had lost their power, their influence, and the Magister houses stepped in, to restore order, peace. Each house was of a single bloodline, each devoted to a single virtue of man...Strength, Valour, Wit, Hope...you get the idea. It wasn't long before the houses found themselves at odds, each believing their virtue to be prime. They went to war, a long and gruesome war, some houses summoning creatures from other planes, some creating their own warriors, conscripting men and changing them. One such man was conscripted, and empowered, but shackled to the will of his wizard lord as many were. The lines shifted and he found himself attacking the village where he used to live, forced to slaughter his friends and family...his own children. His mind broke, and vengeance freed him from his constraints...kneeling in his home, in a pool of the blood of his blood, he called out for power, the power to avenge his family, to be the hero his people needed. In that moment a figure appeared before him, shifting in blacks and greys and spoke to him, "You wish vengeance? Then take up the blade," and a sword rose from the blood surrounding him. He did, and none could stand before him, he destroyed the creations of the wizards as he marched a bloody path to the tower. Golems crumbled in his presence, the magic holding men waned and they fled before him...those bestial creatures that knew nothing but death tasted it from the blade and he stood before the wizard at last, the one who had enslaved him, the one who had forced him to slaughter his kin and the wizard was powerless, his magics failed him. Without thought or remorse, the man slew the wizard, cleaving him fully in twain and stood victorious, looking down at his fallen foe. In that moment, a figure of shadow in blacks and greys appeared behind him, the man coughed blood, sputtered and fell to the floor, dead, the blade still in his hand. There are two more parts to the story, but that is the first chapter of the saga. The blade is simply the Blade of the Slayer...it is cursed, deeply. (Insert thought by myself: Oddly enough I was practicing my art of Curse while he was telling this story!)

Historic recollection as told by Thunderman--
Back in the old Lyran city, there was a darkmare named Tehthu. He was essentially the king of all darks. Just a wicked, wicked darkmare that made your skin crawl. Four dreamers of each focii created a blade and art called Tehthu's Oblivion. I only recall Ghazgkull and Starfall as the holders. Though I wouldn't be surprised if Munchkin or Tux were one of the DreamSeers. Not sure who the SoulMaster would have been. So, the story of Tehthu's Oblivion took place with the strike of Ghazgkull's special blade. There was some controversy between Starfall and Ghazgkull. Starfall claims her blade struck first, but the dreamstrike was credited to Ghazgkull. I was not present. That's all I really remember about those weapons. One blade for each focus and I believe one art distributed to each of the blade holders. Much like the Mace of Castigation was responsible for the wielder having dreamstrike. Then of course there were the four weapons needed to rid (temporarily) Agonarius. Hasenthes' Fist, Srechethan's Purge, Agonarius' Bane and... I'll have to think on the fourth one.

Personal story as told by Purple Lace--
When the Vanguard General, Zaxun, arrived in the City to warn us of the Templar army approaching, with its leader, Xun'rok, General Zaxun asked for volunteers. I spoke up and was given a dull blank of a blade. When we achieved some goals, our blades were sharpened and returned. I was the only one who had one left. These blades were made from the tines of the Mace of Castigation. They were ceremonial and very sentimental of a brave thing I did, lost a house over and was repeatedly attacked for. It means nothing to anyone but me. And... I want it back. When it was taken the first time, Aileron retrieved it and in a grandly noble gesture, returned it. The name of the Blade is the Vanguard Blade. It had about 140 something charges of Chaotic Vortex. (Insert comment by myself: Be on the lookout for this blade! It was last seen with the darkmare, Raichuelle! Please return it to Purple Lace if found.)

I hope you enjoyed the stories as much as I enjoyed listening to them and recording them!
Umm... Neil
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