He was certainly good at talking people into something, at least. As soon as she heard about the Sword of Khaine, she was stunned, and with some smooth chin-wag from him, she was on a ship, dressed to the nines and sailing off to some island he had prepared. He was good, andsmooth, and generally the kind of person Estaria wanted to punch simply for the reason of being so good and smooth. The cocksure gambler that always had the right cards and the right woman. Still, it did her in, and so she couldn’t do anything but wander about the ship and think. Coming this close to the island of the High Elves made Estaria think about Filnon, which was never a good thing because she was a big part of what made her run away. Estaria wanted to survive, to see Filnon again, but the shame she felt after running had prevented her from going to see her wife. Prevented her from even acknowledging her, because to acknowledge Filnon’s existence was to acknowledge her running. She should have stayed and fought. Should have charged the line and took Vlad’s head from his neck, should had crumbled his legions to dust and scattered his entire family to the wind for their betrayal. And yet, she let Valten dictate the pace, a pace most cowardly and mentally harrowing. This carried on until it made dock on a strange, foreboding and darkened island. It did not help that her mental state was already weakened by the claws of the past years trying to drag her down and make her answer for what she had done to her countrymen, make her give them back the life she had stolen from them with her fleeing, and with her lack of return to them. Though, the dark magic and general feeling of unease was only added to a hundred fold when she saw a beautiful woman standing some thirty feet from the shore.
Departing shakoly from the boat, this beautiful woman stormed up to Estaria and violently slapped her across the face.
“Two years! I heard nothing from you for two years! The Empire collapsed, filled with cadavers and Vampires, all the Electors dead or turned, and I had to sit here worrying myself sick every single day!” Filnon’s voice was shrill with emotion, and her eyes brimmed with tears. There was unparalleled relief that Estaria was still alive and well, but beyond that there was intense rage that she had not come to Naggaroth or even just sent a message. Estaria looked up, her bride’s uniform flitting and glowing thrice as bright in the unholy light of the Blighted Isle, and then she broke down, into hysterical tears, racked with sobs that nearly brought her to her knees.
“All your work, to save my Empire. All that work, to protect me and my people, and I failed! It was my fault, I couldn’t do enough to keep them alive. I couldn’t stop Vlad taking over, I couldn’t stop my countrymen from being butchered by undead monster. They all died because I didn’t stay to protect them and just ran away like a coward! I wasn’t….I couldn’t…..” Estaria was cut off by Filnon suddenly pulling her into a tight hug. However angry she was that her wife had not come to her for the support she needed, there was still a great deal of love for the woman,and there always would be, until the day they both rotted in the ground.
“Ahh, foolish girl. I don’t care about your failures, I care about you. I could have given you somewhere to stay, or all the support you needed to reclaim your Homeland, whichever you desired. You thought I would judge you for what happened? That is not what love is” Filnon spoke, stroking Estaria’s hair until she managed to stop her crying. Two years of avoiding the truth, of running from it and denying it, had come to a head here and crashed on her with reckless fury. And she could not weather it, but in her fortune, Filnon was here to support you.
“I have heard tell that the Druchii are trying to move away from their Malekithian roots. It is interesting to see such claims true” a woman spoke. Beautiful as Filnon, dressed with overwhelming elegance and a safe harbour in the storm of darkness that was this isle, Estaria could not help but feel relaxed around her. Contented by her presence even in such a place of doom and gloom as the Blasted Isle.
“Estaria, this is Alarielle, The Everqueen. She is the Co-ruler of the High Elves, alongside the Phoenix King. Mattrim brought us here because he said he was going to be bringing a new age to the world. It being here, obviously means he plans for the Sword of Khaine. And it being you, obviously means he intends for you to draw it. But, there is something we must warn you” Filnon took Estaria’s chin and looked into her eyes, ensuring that she was most focused and paying attention to every word that was said. “The Sword Of Khaine is a corruptive influence on everyone. It is a dangerous tool far beyond any other artifact in the world. Do not draw it lightly” She warned, and then stepped to one side. “We can’t go any further without risking corruption by the Sword of Khaine. You must make this journey with Mattrim. While it will certainly attempt to corrupt him and probably succeed, we Elves are more susceptible to it due to ancient history. I will be here when you get back though, so don’t worry”
Hearing all that Filnon had to say, having her support, and the strange comfort of Alarielle, Estaria could march forward. The rock on her back was still their, and it still weighed a great deal, but it was not something that she was shouldering alone anymore. It was something that she had support with, and so she could move under it’s weight without having to drown in sex and alcohol and bar room brawls just to ignore the existance of the rock. It was there, and she would deal with it in time. Taking a chistel to her emotional baggage and cut it away, until she found absolution. Maybe she never would, maybe the rock would resist all efforts, maybe she’d never get rid of it and forever be trapped in a state of despair for those that had died for her. But, at the same time, maybe she would. Maybe she could be better, for them,
“You look like you are going through some heavy shit” Mattrim commented, looking to Estaria. She pulled out of her mindset to look at him, slightly less of a scowl this time and she spoke to him, slightly less of an aggressive tone as well.
“A little, yea. But, I will be better when we reach the destination” Estaria replied, pushing onwards faster than she had been dawdling and forcing poor Mattrim to run to keep up. Eventually, they did arrive, and standing at the altar, she saw the mighty weapon in front of her. Felt the waves of power and bloodlust coming off it and...cocked an eyebrow, turning her head quizzically.
“That’s not a sword” she muttered, looking to Mattrim.
“Mmm. Looks more like an Ashandarei” Mattrim said. Which didn’t help Estaria’s confusion at all, so he spoke again. “I am guessing you are seeing something different, huh? Ashandarei is a sort of, quarterstaff with a curved blade on the end. Not quite a spear, but more like, a sword staff? Very interesting weapon, mostly found in this small area of the Old World called Nippon” Mattrim explained, shrugging with a grin at Estaria’s stare. “I travel a lot”
Leaving the man and walking up to the “Sword” of Khaine, Estaria stroked her hands across the firm but supple Dragonleather of the gauntlet, and the studs on the knuckles that looked to be made of molten lava, but were as solid and sharp as any metal, pricking her finger when she grazed across it. Two gauntlets, laid on the pedestal, whispered gently to her to pick them up and wear them. So she did, pulling them on and feeling how they conformed to her fists, melding to her so they were the most perfect weapons in all creation. Then she got a popup.
Curse Of Khaine Activated
Wisdom Negated by Divine Power, Hex Successful.
