Veteran’s Plateau Altar
11-02-2022, 01:54 AM
(This post was last modified: 01-03-2023, 12:23 PM by Nyx. Edited 2 times in total.)
It was extremely late by the time Ruga got to the statue. The night was fully dark, likely close to midnight if he had to hazard a guess. This wasn't at all the time he thought he would come, but ever the perfectionist he was he worked right up until the very last moment on what he had planned to present. He had never been a religious individual and the whole idea of these statues being linked to gods and the like seemed highly unlikely at best, but regardless, he didn't often have a purpose for his more extravagant pieces that he made purely just for the joy of making them and if this would keep whatever strange being was controlling this happy then he figured it was worth a shot. When he got to the statue there was no one there other than a few sleepy looking feline attendants who seemed to be surprised to see him approaching.
Stepping up to the simple stone base of the roughly formed statue, Ruga slipped off the sword that was strapped across his back and shifted to settle back on his haunches for a moment. The scabbard was made of a deep black leather, perfectly smoothed and finely stitched around the blade. Grasping the grip of the sword between his jaws, he pulled the blade free, revealing the weapon that was made of a dark steel, the blade given a unique matte finish along the middle of the blade so that only the sharpened edge gleamed in the moonlight. The guard was made of the same dark steel, but was more rough in shape, looking almost like a jagged piece of stone that had a similar treatment done to the points so that the highest planes of the faux rock was polished and shining. The grip was made of the same blackened leather as the scabbard with a dark steel pommel at the end that was capped with a piece of red jasper inset at the tip to finish it off.
Lifting his paw, he drew the blade lightly across his paw pads, immediately causing blood to spring to the surface and darken the edge of the blade to show just how sharp the weapon was. With his blood along one side of the blade, he placed the weapon on the alter, leaving it unsheathed and instead putting the scabbard down beside it. Part of him was reluctant to leave such a fine blade behind, but he had made it specifically for this purpose so it would be silly for him to back out now. With small nod to the cats that were watching, he turned and began to walk back, ready to get back to his den and get some much needed sleep.
NPC:
The fact you seemed to have caught the tabby napping, its paws folded under its body in a perfect little cat loaf and it’s eyes closed, flying open only as you get close, is probably a very lucky thing, as far as anyone can tell the tabby is always on top of things. But now you know different. It watches blearily as you offer your sword and gives you a tired nod, letting its eyelids slide closed though you can see its ears are still perked, angled towards you. Clearly now awake and alert to you.
A sudden wave of heat hits you, the roar of a blazing fire surrounding you and for a moment you feel panic rising in your chest before your eyes adjust. You are no longer standing before the statue, you are in the dark, a stone dome shape with a raging fire visible in a window in the stone before you is the only thing you can see… But no, you can make out the hilt of a sword, the blade well within the flames. You reach forward, instinctually, gripping the hilt and quenching the red blade with a deftness that speaks to years of practice, speaks to a solid hand.
You see an anvil to your side and without thinking about it, you reach for a hammer you know hangs from your belt, and you begin to shape the steaming metal, you think of the warrior who will hold this sword, the way it will fit in their hand, the way it will balance in their grip, how hard it’ll be to follow through and as you do so you shape a masterpiece before you, a blade built specifically for its weilder. You will never know how it will save its users life, how it will glance death away with ease. But you are building the prefect weapon for one person and one person only, and it will fit like a glove.
You blink and the fire is gone, the sound of metal on metal is gone, the smell of steam is gone, and the images will never come back to you, you will quickly forget the feeling of your body but not your body, forget it all. You notice a pouch lazily tied around your ankle and the tabby speaks softly. “There is merit in hard work, even if you’re the only one who ever sees it. Know the value of your work, and be proud.” The cat’s eyes remain closed the whole time you turn and leave and yet somehow, you feel seen.
You have received:
Minor mutation pass
Staff: Used on Rebel for thicker fur mutation (defensive)
