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Author Topic: I am thinking... a reeeally sharp sword...  (Read 771 times)
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Tekradon
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« on: 14 August 2002, 19:41:00 »

This will by no means be complete, and this might need to go under the history section instead.  But here goes...

Description:
Roullen-Tsaskagaes (meaning Roullen's great wish), also called the Rage of the Mynian.  A longsword of exceptional make.  Although its exact design varies from version to version of the legend, it is usually a slightly curved longsword with a silver-blue-green blade.  The sharpness of its edge was exceptional; it was known to be able cut a hair on the water, or slice the hair from a man's head without touching his skin.  It was even known to slice water or ale in two, so that it stayed in two pieces for many seconds.

Usage:
Only one made, only used by Roullen, a hero of the Mynian people at the time of their downfall.  Since no-one has seen it for hundreds of years, most doubt that it ever existed but in legend.

Fighting style:
Used as a normal longsword, except for one vital exception.  Because of its power (explained later), it can only be wielded by a faithful, loyal warrior of the Mynians.  For anyone else, it will not cooperate.

Origin and History:
Back during the last days of the Mynians, during their onslaught by the orcish tribes from the northern hills, there lived a great hero named Roullen.  His skill with a sword was the stuff of legends, and the whole settlement of Weavermoth would pay homage to his name, daring not to curse it.  When the massive horde of Orcs were displaced and approached Weavermoth from the northern hills, the Mynian people were in great fear of their numbers.  Many, knowing not where else to turn, asked Roullen what should be done, knowing him not only to be a shining hawk on the battlefield, but also to be a man of solid wisdom.

Roullen thought of what to do, then he commisioned the city's finest blacksmith to fashion a sword of exceptional quality for him.  When the smith had finished his work, the product was a light, quick sword with an exceptionally sharp blade.  When this was done, Roullen took the sword to the city's most skilled sorcerers, who enchanted the sword thus; so that any Mynian warrior who blessed the sword, then fell in battle, his fighting spirit would travel into the sword.  As the orcish army sent wave after wave of attacks against the city Vermouth, the sword grew in strength, often moving with blinding speed.  Eventually it was so powerful that Roullen could release it from his hand, and the sword would fly across the battlefield, cutting a path of slaughter as it flew.  Eventually, however, Roullen himself fell in battle as the remaining Mynian forces were overwhelmed and eliminated, and Roullen's own fighting spirit was absorbed into the sword.  The sword then lay quiet.  The orcs recognized that the sword had remarkable qualities, and they brought the blade to the high council of orcish shamans.  Once there, the sword reawakened, slaughtering the high orc cheiftains in a slicing whirlwind.  

That very night, the dark elves had been planning an attack upon the orcs, and when they saw the chaos erupting from the orc camp, they saw their chance to strike.  Once they arrived, however, the sword had again silenced itself.  However, when they brought the sword to the dark elf magician, he immediately sensed the sword's intentions, and had it bound in enchanted admant chains.  He then ordered the sword to be cast into a pit in the Celeste Mountains, which at that time were not volcanic.  A dark elf prince and his close bodyguards undertook the task, and when the prince cast the sword into the pit, the sword plunged until it struck the ground at the pit's bottom, sinking into the earth.  At this point, the earth violently rejected the sword, causing a ripple of volcanic eruptions which persist to this day.  When the sword was rejected, it was cast back upwards out of the pit at great speed, so that the prince, who had ventured to peer over the edge of the pit, was cut clean in half.  The sword then shot across the land to the southwest at such great speed that the Celeste lowlands were pushed up on either side of it.  It then shot out of sight, and remains unfound to this day.  Most scholars say it flew in to the Aelyvian Sea after cutting a pass through the Mountians of Oro.
 

"Deep red are the sun-sets in mystical places. Black are the nights on summer-day sands. We'll find the speck of truth in each riddle. Hold the first grain of love in our hands." -Jethro Tull

Edited by: Tekradon  at: 9/6/02 3:56:34 am
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Tekradon
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« Reply #1 on: 06 September 2002, 20:57:00 »

Finally finished, I believe.  Please comment freely.

"Deep red are the sun-sets in mystical places. Black are the nights on summer-day sands. We'll find the speck of truth in each riddle. Hold the first grain of love in our hands." -Jethro Tull

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