The Harvest Moon Consortium

[Winterhawk99]

Soulcutter

Ocalus the cavalier stumbled into the ruin. Blinded by the undead lich he dispatched, he carefully felt around the wall of the Room he was in. Quietly he creep to find a corner to rest and find a way to restore his sight.

He had come seeking fame and glory by finding one of the twelve godforged swords. An ancient map purchased from within the depths of the Rock point sewers lead him here on his quest. The price was enought to buy a large keep along the oceanic floodplains east of rock point where the soil is ever black and the bounty has always been fruitful.

Ocalus slowly found a corner and leaned against it listening intently. No sound ushered from either sid of him. No sound ushered anywhere which disturbed him.
If he had known the infestation of undead in the ruins was this bad; he would have taken a full party with him, but fearing that someone would find the sword before him he rushed off ill prepaired for the onslaught of what he had been through already.

He slowly paced out from the wall sizing up the room pace by painful pace, moving slowly and deliberately as not to cause a sound that might summon more undead to the area. In the center of the room he felt a dias.
Searching with his hands, his fingers felt something that was round and smooth, and narrow. When he pulled the object dislodged. He grasped and bobbled it a moment but managed to keep it from hitting the ground. He investigated it with his hands finding the padded meter long weight of a sheathed sword.

Though not a mage Ocalus could tell this was no ordinary weapon. He had no doubt he had discovered the wereabouts of one of the fabled swords.


Which one did he have? That was the question? It was fustrating to reach your goal only to not know which sword you had found. Ocalus knew that all the blades except one had a distinguishing mark upon their hilts. Farslayer had a target shape, Sightblinder a human eye, coinspinner a pair of dice. With no sight Ocalus had no way of determining which sword he had other than test it.

Ocalus then thought of the black hilted sword and shuttered. He couldnt be sure but the odds seemed against him having the deadliest of all the swords in his hands. for all he knew there may be a symbol flush with the rest of the hilt indistinguishable by touch. Everything depended on him finding out.

There was only one way to draw the blade from its sheath. Hesitantly Ocalus began to draw the sword. First one inch then two. He held his breath with the hope that if it was indeed soulcutter, he would keep enough sense of purpose to muzzle the blade before the its power overwhelmed him with hopelessness, before all possible actions, and even life itself, were robbed of meaning.

After pulling a few inches of blade out with nothing happening, Ocalus felt a wellspring of courage and pulled the full weight of the blade out. For a moment nothing happened. He waited long enough for it to be too late. A black cloud of despair overwhelmed him. He sat down loosing all intrest in food, water, and even life itself and died.


Story written by Winterhawk