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PostPosted: Thu Dec 21, 2006 7:52 pm 
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Master of Games
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Joined: Mon Mar 31, 2003 9:23 pm
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Darkness. All was dark. Everything, black. Where was this place? what was this place? Memories... flickers... bits and pieces of the world before.

Master!

Nighthand looked to the side and saw Shard, scrabbling his claws on the ground, being dragged as if by some unseen force towards him.

”What is it, Shard?”

That blade is calling us in! We can’t resist, it’ll swallow us up!

A horrible, twisted, wrenching, tearing, pulling, shoving, squeezing... every sensation the Cerberus could put a name to, it was all there. It was all he felt before he was wrenched into the formless depths of the Nightblade.

There, inside the horrible blade, was stasis. Shard could feel the energy of other darkness residue, outside the blade, coming in. The blade's thirst was unquenchable. It's ravenous hunger was the reason Shard had been pulled into it in the first place. He understood that now. In the blade's stasis, he understood more, as well. The blade didn't crave darkness. It wasn't even made of darkness. It was a weapon straight from the Darkness plane, and imbued with darkness powers, but it was not darkness in the sense of the normal game's rules. Even it's insistent feeding was not for itself. It was the tribute to the blade's real master.

The blade, as Nighthand thought, was his. For the time that he held it. But he was wrong about one thing. His father had not created the blade. The blade was far older than that. His father had merely found it, and understood it. His father had made the pact that allowed Nighthand to summon it. The pact with a being many feared to deal with, or even see. The pact with Wryneck himself.

The darkness that the blade took in was a tribute, a tithe for the master of the blade to the blade's true owner. Shard could feel the darkness washing past him, simply passing through the blade. It was going somewhere.

Try as he might, Shard couldn't contact Nighthand. Whether that was because being inside the blade made communication impossible, or because the bladesmage merely wasn't listening, Shard had no way to tell.

Then something happened. The world he was in began to contract on itself, on that other point where the energy was going. Nighthand had released the blade, and Wryneck was calling it back.

Shard forced his way though the ephemeral darkness, trying to escape before he entered Wryneck's clutches. He forced himself against the wall, against the torrent of rushing existence... and through!

The cerberus tumbled onto the ground and was quiet, unconscious. Meanwhile a little bird, sitting in a surreal tree nearby, twitched it's head and watched.

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Wishlist: Any Armor or Weapons under level 50, Any Scrolls (prefer level 2+)

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