Role

Chapter 1

By Hamsah Thendrell stopped his journey back to the inn. He had found the
blade, but really what could he do with just a blade? It needed a hilt. He
took a few swigs of ale, and his old mind began to wonder about how a hilt
could not be with the blade. It had been broken afterall. Surely the hilt was
not far, unless it was claimed as a prize by someone. He grumbled, annoyed
with himself for not having been more thorough in his search. So happy he had
been to find the blade by sheer luck he had let it cloud his mind. With a few
swears at his own foolishness, he turned around and began trekking back to
the ruins of the village.

Among the bones, he scoured, and to no avail. The hilt was not with the
blade. He looked over, the throne of bone was still radiating its intangible
aura and images were always dancing along the very edges of his vision. He
looked over again, his sword drawn. He executed a few basic maneuvers, and
then looked at the blade. It had been strong, well forged. Whatever caused it
to break was not simply a cut. It had been destroyed. By what he did not
know. But if that were the case... He looked over at the throne again. The
pieces could have ended up anywhere. And maybe it was the blade sent flying,
not the hilt. Which would mean. Would mean that the fight actually occured at
the throne, not before it.

He approached it, the hairs on his neck standing on end as he approached the
throne. The energy was in the air itself, a tension keeping him on edge. The
visions were still flashing, but he moved closer. The area was clear, except
the pedestal and the throne. He looked over the pedestal, admiring the
dwarven runes, but found no mechanism to open it. No such time for such in a
fight he thought. Then he looked to the throne, an assortment of bones piled
together. Among them, a large dragon's skull. Just large enough.

A little grin crept across his face. He approached and pried open the jaw,
not half surprised to find the hilt of an ancient sword inside it. An easy
place to stash what you would not want found. He pulled it out, comparing it
to the blade. A match. He now had both pieces. Ysaloerye had wanted both, not
just the blade. He realized now what was to come. A true test of his forging
skill. To reforge what had been destroyed. He would go to Ysaloerye again,
this time knowing he was closer than ever to proving his ability at the forge
to the paragon.