Open A Blade and A Book.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Timestamp: 37th Winter 516AV

Location:Zelti-vadas (zeltiva alvadas)

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


The short walk, and it was significantly shorter than usual lead Alex from the cubacious inn to the Kitrean krafts. A strange sensation when usually it took him bells to get anywhere he wanted to go. Perhaps this would be a change of affairs. Or maybe Ionu had better things to do today? Either way Alex wasn’t going to argue especially as he stepped into the krafts with a smile on his features light and still somehow hollow, and a newly attained sack of gold on him. Time for him to fork over for what he’d commissioned. Over a week had passed since he requested the article and finally he had the coin to pay for it.

The sudden surge of hot air that burst from the back room was something that almost took Alex off of his feet as he watched the Isur he’d asked this from stumble out from the back.
“Ah it’s you!” His features lit up as he spied Alex. “I was wonderin when ye’d be back for the blade lad. Thought you were gonna requisition it then skip town.” He spoke almost with a dejected look to his eye like it had happened once or maybe even twice before.
“Nope I actually arrived with the money for the thing. I did tell you I was waiting to be paid for the job.” He stepped up to the counter as the Isur slipped back into the rear of the room and pulled out the blade in question. Bound in jet black cord across the handle and the sheath it came in lacquered from black wood. It was beautiful to see just like that. Then he pulled the blade from the sheath. The spiralling mixture of black and red across the blade almost made it seem like it was made from wood than actual steel. Then Alex’s eyes took hold of the guard, the form of the waves crashing over the plate and the motif that ran beneath the handle, even the hilt. There was a look to this blade that poke it wasn’t going to be cheap and it was going to be hard as heck to master but it was going to be so worth it in the end.

“Right so.” The isur began. “The blade is simple steel but as per alvadas’ style of liking to be fancy in their weapon choices the blades had small traces of copper added meaning ya get this lovely pattern across it. Add to that the stylized guard which again is more a symbol do status in the city rather than much else. This beauty here’ll set ya back around…two hundred gold.” The words fell from him like a true connoisseur of the art but when the price hit Alex he almost visibly cringed at the dent that was going to put in his wallet. But then he supposed it could have been so much worse.
“I don’t suppose that includes the scabbard does it?” He spoke with a joking tone. Almost trying to push the thought of almost a quarter of his remaining funds being spent on this.
“Aye actually it does seein as I’m a nice guy.” He spoke with a small twinkle and held out the blue gemstone like arm. Awaiting the payment. Alex used his practiced smile and faked courtecy which he’d learnt so well to hand over the money without a second glance. Perhaps it was time for him to learn some more acting…?

Alex lifted the new blade he’d acquired and strapped it to his side. The beast was actually slightly bigger than his two current blades. Measuring a total length of four feet. Of which almost a foot was the handle. Oh this thing was going to take forever and a day to learn how to use but the sheer beauty of it was something he could pass up.

Needing a moment alone with his thoughts he hoped the city would comply and take him to the place he wanted to go, one of the only cities he’d ever felt really at peace in. Zeltiva. So to Zelti-vadas he headed.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


Alex stepped through the ever twisting and turning streets of Alvadas and kept his eyes towards the beautiful blade that had been crafted. He barely noticed as the houses around him slowly faded from being the stony brickwork that followed him through the streets and became these ramshackle houses made of thick tomes and smaller books mimicking the mortar. He glanced around taking in the rather odd spectacle and ran his fingers lightly over the edge of one of the houses, his newly acquired blade sat at his side.

“What in the name of…” Alex pressed into one of the books and felt it give somewhat. A small brick book that with another firm push popped out of its holding spot. Wrenching the book free from it’s emplacement with another firm tug he took a moment to glance at the small leather bound, what seemed to be journal. The soft brown leather reminiscent of a nut he knew he had a mild aversion too he thumbed open the pages. The yellowed almost tea stained look of them easily catching his eyes but what caught his attention more was that the cover page and the following side were left almost entirely blank save for a few small ink spots like whoever wrote this used them as a blotting sheet.

A logical choice he remarked flipping over the page to reveal the initial title page. Gnora? Logic over all…?

Perhaps that was the title of the book but maybe, just maybe that was the right decision? Whatever the case was Alex thumbed over the next page and took a slow step towards what had become a railing at the edge of the world. His elbows pressed into the stained wood as he thumbed the page over to see something at the bottom corner of the third page in. A set of scales. Something he knew well, taking his right hand into his shirt he fished around for the carving of the scales and placing it alongside the drawn symbol the match was near Identical. Whoever wrote this was the genuine article.

A.M.F. A series of Initials that sat oddly similar to his own initials just that his middle names didn’t start with an M. Alex shifted his standing if only to shift the weight from one foot to the other. Perhaps this was the truth of the matter here. As he thumbed the page over the next one spoke about a prayer to the lady of logic.

My Lady Gnora,
I beseech thee. I ask that you grant me the ability to see past the clouds that mar my mind. To let me see the truth of this world and the forces that make it work. Emotion is simply a frail cloud that masks and shrouds the truth of a situation. I ask for the fortitude to hold back my own clouds as I assess this troubling time from your lofty place of oversight.

A short prayer all in all but then as he thumbed further and further through each of the first maybe thirty of fifty pages were akin to a longer and longer sheet of prayers. This man’s devotion to Gnora it seemed rivalled Alex’s own to Priskil. Yet this man seemed to have been blessed with the opportunity to meet his deity. As the next section displayed giving a brief if a littler flattering description of her. With accompanying sketch. A strange series of circumstance but still it held an interesting point of view.