Blade of Innocence 1: Celestial Conspiracy

The door opened, and a beautiful creature came through it. Moving like a ghost in flesh, the figure moved toward the end of the room. The tulani's hair had flattened slightly from the swampy mists. It gave his youthful face an aura of reckless sensuality, despite a weight behind his pupils' dark. He shed his black cloak with a quick motion, and swiftly took a seat, grimacing even before he sat down.

"Disgusting, how can you stand the smell?", the pale skinned humanoid looked as though he would gag onto his court finery made of indigo and silver. A hand was held before his mouth, a ring of yellowish jade on his finger wavering curiously. He sat before a creature that appeared to be a bear of sienna brown that had grown diposable thumbs and a torch of intellect.

"Honestly, I masked it at first but then I decided that the scent would galvanize me. I did retch several times admittedly. I manage it better now." The ursinal on the other side of the desk looked down shamefacedly.

"The blood of elf-children! I'm sorry Gorsan, I'm going to negate it.," the beautiful man said as he waved a hand. His movement suggested grace. His pale grey eyes glimmered as the spell took effect. Both celestials relaxed visibly, though Gorsan blinked at the sudden change in his environs. The muscles beneath his simple black robe eased, and he breathe deep.

"My head does feel clearer. Perhaps it was a foolish little martyrdom after all. Thank you Esaal." The tulani nodded and smiled for a moment, then his expression became wary as the guardinal took the sword down from the grey stone wall and placed it on the pear-wood desk between them. Now that the blood-scent was suppressed, the pleasant aroma of the furniture filled the air. Esaal's senses noted this even as he looked at the blood, disturbed by the crusted burgundy staining the metal. After all this time, the blood remained on the blade but the blade remained ever sharp and shining.

That was the least of it however. The blade seemed to vibrate with a supernatural tension, a wrongness radiating through the space around it. Injustice, even a chaotic eladrin would easily acknowledge it as such. Yet it was not the murder of the elves that produced the flaw. It was the judgment against the wielder. The proto-fey looked up, into his racial cousin's eyes.

"I can feel it," blinking hard to deal with the sting, "it burns the air. You've spent months here? I'd have gone mad."

"Its promise is too great to relax for an instant. I acquired it from Estavan, though he did not part with it lightly. But I gave him a relic from his people that I kept in my collection, and some gold besides. He seemed unsure which of us got the bargain." The ursinal spoke a word and two fluted goblets appeared before them, made of brass and filled with white wine.

"You must believe we can succeed, if you'd part with something so valuable. The chances of finding such things has passed from this multiverse." The tulani sipped the wine, measuring his friend's obsession. But was it any less than his own? Perhaps not, but the ursinal still had faith whereas he had merely continued out of duty.

"The blade changes everything my friend. I have calculated and reviewed my philosophy. The Raven's Loft has always been the key, even when we first became aware of its presence. The refined essence of damnation. And now we can use it to fulfill our dreams. I know you have doubts, let me explain...."