Recent content by Thronesplitter

This was not Alliria. The sword had gathered as much by now, even if it remained ignorant of the layout of Arethil's capitals in this age. It had watched the drow for some time now. Kept its invisible tongue in check. And so far, it hadn't been left by the wayside. An improvement, to be sure...

Thronesplitter found itself spirited away once again, this time in another direction. It kept its proverbial tongue, not willing to risk a tantrum from a different owner. Not until it found itself in more civilised lands, at least, where it could rely on other hands possibly finding it. It...

The sword could sense his disorientation. His hesitation. While this individual might be a proficient warrior, it recognised a fish out of water when it saw one. It should know. It had been observing nothing but fish for the last few weeks, or however long it had lain down there. It lost count...

Its tip pierced through flesh, sliding between his ribs like a key, all while tearing through his innards. Gore bathed Thronesplitter, and it tasted glorious life again, all while spearing out on the other side of him like a dark fin bursting through a sea of blood. Tendrils of green flame crept...

The two opponents' laudable bravery turned their demise. The burning sword cut through steel weapons, black plate, leather, flesh and bone like they all belonged to the same soft matter, with a heat unknown to man. It left a slash of a sear through both of them, like the long stroke of a quill...

Finally. The blade burst free from its prison of Gaia's greedy clutch. The full glory of its length came to the fore, and then, the emerald lights intensified, crystallising into searing runes, bathing the blue gloom of the lake in a brilliant malachite glare, as if the colour of that precious...

Yes. Yes, this was it. It could see now - arms and legs, clearly swimming towards it. It would have to weaken its flames, so as to not scald this individual with boiling water. But it kept emerald lights dancing and flickering down its blade, green as fortune, coyly glittering through its runes...

Fish had perculiar mannerisms. It had never had the chance to observe them so closely. Or for so long. Schools of them sifted around it, larger ones eating smaller ones, smaller ones flitting between one another, in an endless, meandering circle of natural cycles. It was enough to drive one...

Bubbles spewed like an eddying curse on the water's surface. The sword sunk and sunk, until its tip touched the murky bottom, fouled by nature's muddy embrace. And there, it seethed once again. It had only managed to traverse a mile or two at most from its original position. Now, hidden by...

The sword paused - perhaps from the endearing attempts at swinging it against the tree, perhaps from Ispir's question. After tasting bark rather than flesh, it finally sneered an answer: "My wielders have all been pathetic, thus far. At least those I remember. You would ask me to choose among...

Perhaps the sword sensed some trick a-foot. It certainly sensed the new tension from Ispir through his arms. But regardless, even if it knew it was being played, it couldn't help but indulge in glorifying its own achievements. "If you seek stories, I can indeed regale you. In the hands of...

"A cult, you say?" It tasted on that prospect, flares licking its enchanted steel like one might lick their lips. "Intriguing . . ." "Anything made from the elements of this world I can destroy. Cowards who summon creatures to fight for them are no different. They will all *burn* before me...

It wondered whether it should dignify this question with an answer. "Whatever mortality I may have had, I have shed long ago, human. I have become something far greater than you can fathom. Rulers now tremble in my wake. But I'm sure you are already aware of this." There was a hollow quality...