Private Tales Sharp blades and Sharper wills.

They would be nearing the port soon. Tar could hear the thumping and shuffling of feet and cargo on the deck above. To buy himself passage aboard the long journey they had been working at each dock or port the ship had stopped at on its convoluted path to the far flung shores of Malakath.
They had hoped that Lilia a Tiefling adventurer would be his guide in Malakath. Unfortunately due to shaking off several attempts from the hounds he had ended up late to their pre-decided meeting spot. She had ended up boarding another ship a few days before with a much more direct charter.
She had left a note and a map with the Inn keeper. These two scraps of parchment were now Tar's only guide that and this uncanny sword.

Tar had been sitting in the hold with the sword resting against the wall beside him. They had spent much of the journey like this. At the very least being at sea had been a welcome reprieve. The hounds might be able to track him to the ends of Arethil but even they couldn't easily chase or board a boat like this.
He stood and took up the sword with it's makeshift scabbard to fasten it to his back.

He emerged blinking into the blinding sun and watched as the wild landscape of Malakath came into view.

Thronesplitter

Tar faltered a moment, glancing about this way and that. Yet no matter where they looked they found no source for it. All of the sailors were rushing about the ship readying to dock.
Had their mind in lack of a physical enemy these long days of the voyage turned on itself? Or perhaps throwing their rations over board with seasickness one too many times had caused hallucinations. They didn't feel dehydrated enough for that. He was accustomed to the signs of extreme hunger of thirst.

Then the tail end of the words caught up with them. 'wielder'? They had almost forgotten the uncanny enchantment of their found blade.
His brow furrowed and he drew toward the railing so as not to be a nuisance blocking the flow of cargo.
They spoke just above a whisper into the sea.
"Have you always been able to talk?"
He grimaced thinking now of the number of conversations they had had talking to themself aloud now.
Every so often they'd had a thought that didn't quite feel like one of their own. It was luck such a thing hadn't derailed their travel or he would have been very cross with the bit of metal for deceiving him.

"I hadn't thought of the sea before.....Now I can say for certain it is....unpleasant." He had developed an immunity to a large number of poisons over the years. So little turned their stomach these days. Only find that the rolling wave tested their balance and their fortitude more than the harshest of venoms.
Tar turned slightly leaning on the rail to watch some of the barrels and crates be rolled down onto the dock.
"It's called Malakath...."
They weren't sure of the name of this little port. All they knew was that they needed to head roughly east and seek a church.


Thronesplitter

Tar's brow furrowed. A conflicted feeling rising up at the notion. They had considered themself alone. Truly so. Out of fear of dragging anyone into this prolonged cat and mouse of constantly being hunted. They had hardly spoken to anyone let alone considered laying their circumstances out to some stranger. Yet this hunk of metal had become an accomplice well aware of his predicament.
Perhaps he should have been more disturbed. Yet it had already been useful several times over.

They wanted to believe there was a safety somewhere on that shore. Hope was fragile thing in their hands.
"First we find the church. If there truly is a means to throw off their pursuit more permanently, I want to do it before they realize I am within reach again."
Malakath was far, but the Underdark had entrances all manner of places. It would only deter them for so long now that He wasn't in the open ocean.
He turned and made his way threw the sailors onto the hustle and bustle of the port. Tar only very briefly stopped to speak with the crew master and receive their remaining payment. It was a paltry sum but Tar was so glad be standing on dry land that felt not even a hint of disappointment.

He left the docks in immediate search. He caught enough weary looks that he wasn't certain simply asking would lead to the fastest route. He was used to it by this point. Even amongst the company of other Dark Elves He was missing pieces and so heavily scarred that he could see the assumptions on their faces.
Well.....then again some of the assumptions were true, He hadn't been above murder, or crime, when he was a hound.

Thronesplitter

Tar paused a step at the bold suggestion laid forth by the blade.
Such a notion hadn't occurred to them. Contrary to the charges which led to their initial imprisonment, it had not been in their nature to bite the hand that feeds. Even after the stroke of luck of being freed, it was the only revenge in their power to escape and live.
A conflicted yearning did rise, tempting them with the notion they would put this very blade into the chest of that woman. That one who had taken everything, and then slice down the pliant snakes who yielded to her.
He shook away the thought. Then resumed walking.

"You are an ambitious blade......but you must know little of the UnderDark. Even with your might it would not be enough. There your risk is as great as mine. The masters of magic there delight in picking spellwork apart strand by strand. No matter the manner of your enchantment it is possible to unmake. "
His lips set in a tight frown at the thought of the only plan in their grasp failing.
"If the church proves fruitless.....then I will need to search out another another way. Perhaps with allies.....no....taking that house is a fools errand. Even should I taste the sweetness of the Matrons anguish......what then?....if I am very lucky some rival house sees it as a boon? In the best possible victory, I only end up where I was. A servant, A hound, A ....well"
His voice petered off mournfully.
"I don't wish to return there."

Suddenly as if a beacon calling to Tar's mournful and yearning thoughts, light peaked through the clouds to shine on a building of dark wood and white marble. It's design peaking out gaudily atop a cliff. It was adorned with gold leaf so prominent as to gleam in ones peripheral even when looking away. It was small on the horizon so it was hard to make out exactly what type of building it was. yet everything in his bones told him that was it. Lilia had said that he wouldn't be able to miss it if came close enough to see it.
Even at this distance this seemed to meet the description.
He pushed forward through the crowds with a quicker step. The crowds fading to less and less as He followed the path out of the city and toward the glint on the horizon.

Thronesplitter

Tar supposed that any item enchanted to speak would do with all the might of persuasion they could manage.
Which is to say, he found that a very convenient promise coming from a sword. He nearly laughed.
A short huff of air blowing out his nose in approximation.
"Luckily for you I doubt I will come by a more suitable weapon anytime soon."
Still they appreciated the sentiment, it was nice to seemingly have someone confident on their side. Albeit even if that someone was a bit of odd metal.
"Another time perhaps."

He trudged along, the path forward snaked about the outskirts of the city, As if the very streets were giving him time to reconsider entering the church. Yet as they approached the cliff there was a very clearly cut staircase winding up. It was well maintained and clean as if swept regularly.
Tar took the steps much slower than they had the path, they had the ominous feeling that once they reached the top there would be no turning around.
He lifted his head as he took the final step and saw a courtyard as carefully tended to as the steps. However that was heavily outshone by the church itself. Now only a few yards away the full force of it's adornments were blinding in an audacious way. At the very least it wasn't what one normally imagined of a pious shelter of worship. In the pyramid face below the point of it's roof was a heavily bejeweled emblem.

Tar dug about in his pouch and pulled out the bit of parchment Lilia had left with him. It was a striking choice so there was no chance of it being a coincidence. The image of a what represented a heart pierced with a knife, bleeding. Incidentally Tar had seen what a human heart looked like and it wasn't at all like this image, it was more oval and meaty. Well at least he knew he was in the right place.
"That must be it. "

Yet they hesitated briefly to step into the courtyard. The symbol of the church was apt. They had been told that these worshippers prized sacrifice above all else and this was why they would lend aid with open arms.
Sacrifice in the name of a potentially cruel goddess was familiar territory.
Perhaps that was why it had become such an easy goal to push themself forward. Just a direction to move in.
Now they had arrived.
Yet part of them feared trading one leash for another above all else.
No.
They couldn't run forever. They needed only to hear out what this church could do for them. They owed Lilia at least that much after coming so far.

Thronesplitter