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Postby Ben » Mon Feb 07, 2011 10:39 am

They had all seen it, the skies had cracked opening an eye into the void itself and from it had poured demons. After all they had done, all they had sacrificed to free this land from the demons, they had returned.

Quayle sat within the temple halfway up a mountain overlooking Kita and thought on those who had fallen fighting the forces of Triundune and those who had fallen since. The return of the demons dishonoured all their memories.

Dishonoured? Perhaps he’d been here too long. He hadn’t thought of the concept of honour since his days of being a knight, but that felt like a lifetime ago now. It had always been a difficult tightrope to walk, being a member of an order with strict rules and following the God of freedom. A member of a secret resistance who could not hide his identity. It had only been a matter of time before his honour was called into question. Religion before self. Friends before religion? Perhaps.

Danahil had returned, in a way at least. He found it difficult to preach a religion without denouncing the ‘new’ Danahil and to do so would weaken the resistance, a resistance so strengthened by his return. In fact, with the resistance stronger than it had been since before Danahil’s death at Clandestine seven years ago, he no longer felt needed.

So he had returned here to fulfil a promise to the last Furious Blade, well the last last Furious Blade, to train others and reform the order. He had traded on the fact he had been one of the heroes from the west who helped slay Triundune (or at least mentioned he knew Ted) and been lead to the old temple founded by Kaisen over a century before.

The recruits were coming on well, he was teaching them to follow a code of conduct much like that of the knight: never attack an unaware opponent, to never lie, to always defend your beliefs and never let an insult go unanswered and to never hide your true identity. He wasn’t sure exactly why, it just felt right and it was the only formal training he had ever received himself, besides rules helped maintain discipline.

He had no idea how to use anything other than a blade so taught the recruits the way of the sword, both two-handed and fighting with one in each hand and told them to eschew the use of daggers and ranged weaponry unless they wished to join the Silent Blades. He considered whether to allow shields, he missed his, but the Serkanian who had named him his successor had been clear that shields were not the way of the Furious Blade.

He taught them how to stop bleeding with a single punch, how to knock an opponent over and how to disarm them. He wished he’d paid more attention to Aquilla when he was showing him how to parry with his arms and legs, then maybe he would be able to pass that on to them too.

He’d taught them as much as he could think of and had been promising them that soon “a great trial” would test them. He’d said that those who failed would die but that those who lived would have earned their names as the new Furious Blades. He’d been wracking his brain trying to think of a “great trial” so the arrival of these demons could be considered a lucky break in that respect.

He’s sent them out across Serke Kemi to prove themselves worthy of the name Furious Blade, to slay the demons, protect the innocent and show that in the Serkanian’s greatest time of need, the Order of the Furious Blade had returned. Now the temple was empty for the first time in months. Returning to his private chamber, he carefully took the daikatana he had been given on his first visit to Serke Kemi, the weapon of the first of the Furious Blades handed down through the years and strode out to join his protégées in slaying demons, protecting the innocent and, perhaps, to prove himself worthy of the name Fuious Blade.
"And unconscious people always count as willing"

Tome of Magic 6.0

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