(I stole this from the interwebs. Sorry, interwebs.)

Continue reading I LIVE!!! …But I May Not Live For Long

So maybe some of you are asking yourselves, “Self, this Matthew fellow said he would be taking a break from writing for a short time, and yet he has produced several posts in the last few days. What gives?” Well, it’s pretty simple. When I do my chapters, I put a lot of work and thought into them. I labor over them and anguish over them so that they are good and worth posting. I spend a lot of time on making sure they are worthy of my standards. I have to worry about there context in the story. I have to make sure that it is well written. I have to carefully decide what I want to convey. With my mini-sodes, though, and my other random content, I’m flying by the seat of my pants. I’m putting in minimal effort, doing very little editing, if any at all, and not worrying about all the finer details. So, basically, I’m not trying to live up to my authorial duties and am essentially projectile vomiting what’s in my head onto paper and having no more concern for it beyond that. So not work. Not writing in any sense that you would think of it. Taking a break from serious work to do not so serious stuff.

Good day, my dear readers. Perhaps your wondering why I’ve started this post with a thinly veiled profanity. Well, initially my morning was simply inconvenient and did not warrant such an uncouth reaction. As you have no doubt noticed by now, given the late night/early morning posts I do, I have a bad habit of staying up till ungodly hours of the morn when I can afford to (usually going to bed around 4 AM, if you must know), thus leading to an equally horrendous habit of sleeping in late. Well, I was up till about 3:45 last night, and I rather inexplicably woke up a mere 4 hours and 45 minutes later at 8:30ish. So I’m a bit tired. Nothing I can’t handle. But my morning has taken me for a different sort of ride. I decided, silly me, that I wanted to watch an old Disney movie. You know the kind, back in the day when Disney was intense and they didn’t pull any punches. When villains were dark and brooding, when death was all too tangible, when the characters had emotionally crises caused by very real problems. Back when Disney was still good and Mufasa’s death devastated a young Matthew Matherne (I’m a very emotional person, you see). Back when Mulan’s “A Girl Worth Fighting For” had the most jarring mood shift in cartoon history. Back when Tarzan was so steeped in the bleak reality of nature that it seemed almost impossible for that movie to have an actual happy ending, until, you know, it did. Anyways, that was my intent when I loaded up Netflix. I was going to watch a good, old Disney movie. Well, while I was looking for one, I happened upon a collection of Disney shorts, and I thought, “Hey, I could watch this instead and NOT be emotionally compromised.” Silly me. The third or fourth short into this documentary, I guess you could call it, I don’t know, was one called “The Little Matchgirl” and it did not have  a terribly feel good ending, in my opinion. I mean, you have the whole “they’re in a better place now” vibe. But the girl still died. And that struck a chord with me this morning. And the state of things hasn’t improved all that much as I’ve kept watching Disney. Not that I’m going to stop. This is why old Disney was good. It made you feel uncomfortable and sad and angry. It challenged you. Anyways, Disney is doing all things that it’s supposed to and because of that you’re getting the one of the earliest posts you’ll probably ever get and also the most profane title you’ll probably ever get. So to cheer up the morning, you’re getting another mini-sode.

A Blacksmith’s Adventures with Weapons of Legend: Svard Forsta

“I am rage. I am agony. I am the furious screams of the oppressed,” the large abomination growled dramatically, cracks in his skin glowing as if lava flowed through his veins. “I am the wrath 0f-”

“Shut up!”

From out of nowhere, a booted foot struck the man in the face, disrupting his sentence and confusing the hell out of everyone present.

“You’re not angry, I’m angry!” the strange commando shouted, standing over his baffled victim, battle axe in hand.

“Alexander?” Tom asked, looking at the fearsome axe warrior.

“I am the paragon of Angern! No one is angrier than me! If anyone has the right to be called anger incarnate, it’s me!” the man boldly proclaimed as loud as he possibly could.

“No, I do, you bastard!” another similarly outfitted warrior shouted, charging at Alex. “I’m his freaking exemplar!”

“Gaius?” Tom inquired, no less perplexed than before.

Alex redirected his fiery rage at this new entity. As the two fought, Tom’s foe slowly crawled away. He did not escape notice, however. Tom’s current weapon quickly spoke up.

“You. Wielder. Are you incompetent or something? That oaf of a man is fleeing. I can’t do anything unless you use me,” the Svard Forsta said, mercilessly mocking her new master.

“Oh, shut up, Svard.  Geez, who new a talking sword could be so annoying?” Tom had acquired this sword quite by accident on the way here. He picked her up from a bandit on his way here. He knew she was special, but he did not know just how special until she felt the need to remark on his poor fashion choices.

“How dare you, human! I am no ordinary sword! I am the Svard Forsta! The First Sword! I was the weapon of choice for the greatest of your mortal kind! You should thank me for gracing you with my presence! And I told you to call me Svarda!”

“Whatever. As I recall, you were once a great and mighty wind guardian, until a Anvers scholar trapped you in this form. How far the mighty have fallen.”

“You dare take that condescending tone with me? I never!”

“How’d you end in the hands of a bandit anyways? Anverlund takes good care of its magical artifacts.”

“Mph. I don’t know why I’m bothering to indulge you, but fine, if you must know. After the passing of my first master, I was passed around to various mighty and powerful warriors. When Anverlund established their library or museum or whatever they call it, I was put there on display for scholars, warriors and lords to ogle. For countless years I sat there, bored and unsatisfied, until a young boy, a simple slave, approached me. He was seeking escape, and I agreed to help him if he agreed to help me with an escape of my own. So we departed for far off lands, eventually finding ourselves in the depraved town of Silversin, where the boy, now a young man, established an apothecary’s shop. One day, a street urchin, on an errand to retrieve some medicine, noticed me laying in a corner, sleeping, and absconded with me. He sold me to the highest bitter, a crime lord, and for a time I was passed from one powerful ne’er-do-well to the next. Eventually, they lost me in the forest you call Blacknight, where my last master acquired me. He died in a horrible and tragic accident which I caused by refusing to cooperate. Then you found me.”

“Another question: have you always been this obnoxious and self-important?”

“How dare-” she began, but was interrupted by a burst of wind that issued forth from her own blade.

Tom had finally reengaged his foe, and it was time to finish this battle.

The pretentious title aside, I actually do have some stuff I felt like sharing. There are a number of key artifacts in The Descendant, and I’d like to discuss them. Now, I know you guys probably think I’m too obsessed with magical items, and I am, but worry not. The stories I write do not generally focus too strongly on them. I just find them convenient vessels to talk about my world without spoiling too much of my story. Anyways, let’s get going here.

Notable Artifacts in the Descendant

The Founder’s Blade – This is the blade forged by the father of Argus’ (the eponymous Descendant) noble line. It is the symbol of the founder’s eldest son’s family (and therefore the main branch of the family) and the birthright of the eldest child, presented to them upon the passing of the current lord or lady. Though it is not magical itself, it is uniquely made, with the founder using fire and water magic throughout the smithing process. The blade appears to be made from Arilese black steel and Damigli steel, but the founder never revealed how he accomplished blending these two different materials together. Argus steals the blade from his father before fleeing from his home.

The Mind’s Eye – Another heirloom of the family, the Mind’s Eye is a false eye that the founder actually used in his life. The founder lost his real eye in battle, so he ordered a stone eye constructed from three scry stones: onyx pupil, lapis lazuli iris, milky quartz white. Along with the eye came three gemstones, each the other side of one of the components of the eye (scrying, as it exists in this instance, is essentially a telepathic bond, and works best when two objects are linked). Though scry stones are not uncommon in their culture of origin, the unique combination of three scry stones in one artifact is rare, and therefore expensive to create. Argus receives the Mind’s Eye from his grandfather, who loved him dearly and knew that, being the youngest, he was unlikely to receive any family treasures. His grandfather also recognized that Argus, above anyone else in his family, respected his family’s origins and would, in time, learn the significance of the eye. Argus discovered its telepathic abilities after using it to replace his own eye after a harrowing battle.

The Ruby Eye – An heirloom of the lowest ranking branch of Argus’ family, the Ruby Eye is a simple gold ring whose ruby serves as the other half of the milky quartz of the Mind’s Eye. It belonged to the adopted daughter of the founder and has become the symbol of her line. Unlike many noble lines, the eldest daughter, and not the eldest son, is head of the family. Historically, this branch family has served the other branches of the family, a fact they deeply resent. The current matriarch, Adelaide, discovers its telepathic link when Argus accidentally contacts her through the Mind’s Eye.

The Lover’s Bond – An heirloom of a branch of Argus’ family, the Lover’s Bond is a simple silver ring whose blue sapphire serves as the other half of the lapis lazuli of the Mind’s Eye. It belonged to the founder’s wife and has become the symbol of their daughter’s line. While blacksmithing once defined the main line, an affinity for magic and an uncommon amount of magically altered members define this highly esteemed branch family. The animosity between this line and the adoptive branch family is notably more intense than the other lines. Though the heads of the family have been able to sense the magic of the ring for generations, the true nature of the ring is only revealed when Argus accidentally alerts the current lord of his presence through the Mind’s Eye.

The Warrior’s Bond – An heirloom of a branch of Argus’ family, the Warrior’s Bond is a simple silver earring whose obsidian stone serves as the other half of the onyx of the Mind’s Eye. It belonged to a female friend of the founder and a fellow warrior. They used it to communicate on dangerous missions. After a mission in which the warrior died, the founder reclaimed the ring and gave it to his two sons. It became the symbol of his younger son’s line. A combat prowess only surpassed by the adoptive branch family defines this branch. The current lord doesn’t learn of the magic of the ring until Argus comes to him seeking aid.

The Archive Key – Another artifact from the founder, this simple stone key is said to unlock the Archive, a vault filled with legendary weapons. It is believed that the Archive contains enough power to overthrow the king. The key, however, was not passed down to the founder’s families. Instead, it is reported to be in the hands of a certain sect of Arilese monks. Argus acquires the Archive Key from a mysterious stranger shortly before the end of his journey.

The Teacup of Doom – Though not special in any particular way, the Teacup of Doom is the beloved teacup of Argus’ butler and best friend, Daniel. He boasts of being lethal with a teacup, and the Teacup of Doom has borne witness to this on a number of occasions. His exceptional prowess in such unconventional combat made it unnecessary to hire someone from the branch family to guard Argus.

The Envoy – The blessed weapon of the Wanderer. The current Wanderer encounters Argus on his journey and tests him.

The Sojourner’s Rest – A simple handkerchief belonging to Elise, one of Adelaide’s maids. It was one of the few possessions she was allowed to keep as a half-elvish slave. Adelaide’s mother bought her from human traffickers after seeing her and taking pity on her. Though she never knew her mother, she highly valued her handkerchief. Little did she know, it had minor healing capabilities. Elise discovers this when she treats Daniel’s wounds after a fierce battle.

Another legendary weapon for your enjoyment.

A Blacksmith’s Adventures with Weapons of Legend: Beast Soul

“Hey! Matt! Get that bracer!” Tom shouted, unable to do said task himself, due to being pinned to the ground by a couple of Inquisitors.

“Sure thing!” Matthew said, barreling towards the poor soul who was holding the strangely enchanting object.

When a 6’4″ pillar of muscle in the rough shape of a grizzly bear is charging at you, you might consider getting out of the way, which is exactly what this small (by comparison) man chose to do. Unfortunately for the Inquisitor, Matthew “The Great Bear” Wild, is quite a bit more agile than he would appear, and it did not take any effort at all for him to alter his direction and deliver a powerful blow to his chin. The now senseless man offered no resistance when the renowned martial artist confiscated the bracer.

“How you holding’ up, sis?” Matt asked, addressing the small woman fighting a short distance away.

“I’m doing fine. Shouldn’t you be doing what your mission leader is saying?” Joann replied curtly, before muttering to herself. “I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t asked for help.”

“Jeez, sis, calm down. Just taking care of my family,” moped Matt, before returning to the task at hand. “Hey, Tom! What now?”

“Put it on! And ignore whatever slayer tricks you use to weaken magic!” Tom shouted back, throwing off his foes.

“Umm, okay…” Matt mumbled skeptically, but he obediently put on the bracer.

Immediately, Matt new something strange was going on. He felt his bones start to reshape themselves, breaking and fusing back together. His already hairy body was now producing a thick coat of animal fur. His face contorted and twisted until it resembled the muzzle of some large animal. His hands were now padded and claws were extending from his fingers. His mentality was still mostly human, but he had a peculiar desire for honey that had not been there before.

“What the…? This is freaking awesome! I’m a badass werebear! Ooh, Frostreach bear, nice. Tom did you know this would happen?”

“Well, I knew you would change, but I didn’t think that the Beast Soul would take your title so literally. Now use that newfound power to take down these bastards.”

“You really don’t like these guys, do you?” Matt inquired, tossing more than a few Inquisitors in the air.

“Despicable scum, the lot of them,” Tom answered, doing his own part.

When they had sufficiently cleared out their foes, Tom and his fellow fighters gathered around Matt. Matt took off the bracer, underwent the painful process of reverting back to normal, and then handed it to Tom.

“Wow, that is really something, Tom,” Matt extolled.

“I know, right?”

“Let me see that!” Joann demanded, confiscating the bracer and putting it on herself.

The cracking of bones, the stretching of flesh, and, soon enough, she was a small, slender version of an Arilese bear.

“Why this one? I’m every bit as Frostreach as my brother.”

“It’s not an exact science, Lil Cub,” her brother explained.

Joann simply growled in response.

“Hey, Ken,” Tom said to one of the other fighters, “you’re an abomination, right? Do you mind trying it on? I’d like to see how it reacts.”

“Sure, it can’t be any more painful than a regular transformation.”

Ken slipped on the bracer and…nothing.

“Sorry, Tom. Seems it doesn’t work on someone who already has that kind of thing going on. You try it.”

Tom slipped the Beast Soul on and was once more amazed at the prosaic nature of the peculiar artifact. From his back, a pair of dark, leathery wings sprouted. His teeth sharpened to fine points. The whites of his eyes turned blood red. Even his hands took on a more diabolical look.

“What’s all this?” Matthew asked, shocked at this change.

“One of my many titles is the ‘Demon in the Mist.’ I guess the bracer took that title to heart. So this is the power of guardian leather, huh?”

“Guardian leather?”

“Yeah. Back in the days when wild guardians were much more present and we still used methods of preserving their magic. Someone, somehow, managed to either infuse leather with guardian magic or skinned a guardian. The truth are hard to know, but the object’s effects are well documented. Andros the Beast earned his fame from using this artifact in battle. Supposedly he discovered it in the Sylphwood, after a harrowing encounter with a wild guardian.”

“Huh. Cool. Let’s get out of here, though. We don’t really want to fight anymore, do we?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

I think, alongside my blacksmith stuffs and the occasional legend and extra chapter, I’m going to try to get back into producing character profiles. I am, however, probably going to use a renovated format. However, for the time being, I’m going to probably stick with the existing format. Also, either today or tomorrow (although given that it is now 1 AM, give or take, in my time zone, “tomorrow” would actually be later today), I’ll probably post another legendary weapon story. Anyways, here’s a non-canonical character inspired by a friend who didn’t make the story. Now, this is subject to change if my friend doesn’t like it.

Candice Frostrock (Alleged)

Known Aliases: The Winter Wolff, The Diamond Dust Owl, The Alabaster Panther, Winged Cerberus, The Stormbringer, The Woman of A Thousand Faces

Age: 26 (alleged)

Birthdate: Springset (May) 11, 7059

Birthplace: Unknown, Frostreach, Koeleth

Current Residence: Unknown

Parents: Father Unknown, Iris Frostrock

Siblings: Robert Frostrock (Brother)

Significant Others: None

Pets: Skye (Dire Wolf)

Hair: Shoulder Length, Brown

Eyes: Light Blue

Height: 5’6″

Weight: 135 lbs

Tattoos: Unknown

Notable Features: None

Preferred Clothing: White Undershirt, Long-Sleeved White Shirt, Thick Off-White Leather Vest, Sky Blue Winter Fur Coat with Hood, Sky Blue Winter Fur Pants, Fur-Lined Winter Boots

Armor: None

Occupation: Hunter, Outlaw

Associations: Unknown

Koeleth Standard Warrior Rank: C

Weapon of Choice: Hunting Bow

Blessed Weapon: Unknown

Favorite Animal: Wolf

Other Notes: Has little patience for annoying people, has few real friends and allies but values those bonds highly

Well, here it is, good or bad. I almost forgot to post it, oddly. That would not have been good for my already failing reputation.

Chronicles of Koeleth: the River’s Tale
Chapter IV
Traveler’s Respite

Tom woke up early the next morning, which came as a surprise to Aaron, who had never seen Tom rise any earlier than he had needed to in the couple of months that he had known him. Tom made use of the bathroom provided by the inn to purge himself of the dirt and dust of the road. Going in, he looked like an impoverished beggar, but, coming out, he had cleaned up nicely. He had slicked back his usually messy hair, and he even bothered to groom his beard more than usual. After rummaging around in his travel pack for a couple seconds, he produced clean, unmarred gentleman’s attire, wholly foreign to his usual wardrobe. The transformation complete, he hardly resembled the road weary warrior from before. This all came as a great shock to the half awake Aaron, and he couldn’t help but comment.

Continue reading Chapter 4: Fourth Time’s The Charm

Well, I am finished with the horrible ordeal of “rewriting” chapter 4. I still have to get it edited and such, but you will be seeing it FOR REAL, I PROMISE, on Friday. I am not overly pleased by the work, but there wasn’t much that I could actually change, and I couldn’t make it much more interesting without extending the chapter too much. Sorry. However, I do think I managed to make the chapter read a bit more smoothly. I will be taking a brief break from my writing, about half a week, because I bashed my head in (figuratively) trying to crank out this chapter, to the point that I didn’t actually do what I set out to do with this particular chapter.  I just need to recover from what ultimate boils down to me overthinking this and burning myself out in the process. Sorry. Anyways, I have another one of my legendary weapon segments. This is probably going to be most of my bonus content for a while.

A Blacksmith’s Adventures with Weapons of Legend: Aegis of the Giant

“How did I get myself into this situation?” Tom spoke aloud but to himself.

He ran barefoot down the narrow corridor, wearing nothing more than a pair of baggy, decrepit old slacks. His only weapon was an unlit torch, being more useful as a flimsy club than a light source. Somehow he had manged to outrun his pursuers, perhaps due to his bareness and their heavy armor, but he knew that if he couldn’t find an exit to this labyrinthine dungeon, he would inevitably be caught. And he sincerely doubted that they would be so kind as to lock him up once more. No doubt the guards he incapacitated would be opposed to further watching over him. Tom briefly stopped to catch his breath, leaning against the refreshingly cool stone wall. Still, he could not help but worry about Dustin, who had been imprisoned here longer than Tom. In fact, that was why Tom was out here. After escaping himself, he freed Dustin, and they split up to increase the chances of one of them escaping.

“Dustin, I hope you’re faring better.”

“Who’s there? Come on, boys! I think one of the escapees is over there!” some random guard shouted.

“Damn me and my big mouth!”

Tom took to fleeing once more, charging down the nearest hall, only to end up at a forking path. After a brief mental debate, he pressed onward down the left path. The path steadily rose upwards, and, before long, the the stone ceiling and walls gave way to caged walkways that crossed over the prison cells below. Tom spotted a bedraggled figure on another bridge and stopped.

“Dustin!” he shouted.

“Tom!?” the man shouted back in confusion. “I found a shield!”

Dustin lifted up a large, intricately designed, lustrous black buckler. Tom had an idea of what it might be, but he had to get closer to confirm it.

“I see a corridor up ahead!” Tom shouted. “Let’s meet there!”

“Okay!” Dustin replied, before looking back and running.

Tom soon saw the reason for his haste, as a group of guards charged after him. Tom had to move himself, as he could hear his own pursuers rushing his way. He ducked into the corridor where he and Dustin were to meet and used a lit torch to set his own on fire. He did not give his pursuers a chance to see him, however, and quickly moved on. Tom charged towards Dustin, who was clearly affected by the weight of the shield. He was not alone; three or four guards were close behind. Instinctively Dustin lowered the shield. Tom launched himself towards the shield and pushed off it, nearly touching the ceiling. He then tossed his lit torch into the crowd of guards, causing a sufficient stir. Tom quickly confiscated two of the guards’ clubs, a decidedly non-lethal weapon, but certainly effective enough against unarmed, unclothed prisoners. It was true that the guards had swords, too, but in such a confined space, you risked hurting yourself or your allies as well as your foes. Tom, in an impressive display of skill and prowess, handed the enemy quite a beating. There was no time to rest, though, as Dustin warned of more foes coming, this time from the other way.

“Let me see that shield!” Tom demanded.

After a quick inspection, Tom confirmed his initial assessment: this was the Aegis of the Giant. Legend stated that it was the first godsteel weapon ever created, handed down to man by the Thorn King, the earth guardian that is said to inhabit the Thorn Crown Mountains and the eponymous giant in the shield’s name. For centuries, the mountain tribes had been oppressed by invading armies, until the Thorn King’s champion rose up from the as yet unknown Koelings and fought back the invaders. From this act of bravery and kindness, an eternal peace and friendship was born. The truth, as Tom knew well, was that it was not even close to the first godsteel weapon, as the method of forging went back to at least a century before, though few, not even Tom, actually knew how godsteel weapons were forged. It was, in fact, a man-made weapon. It was, however, the first godsteel weapon to be used by a Koeling and not by the mountain folk, and it was true that it was the symbol of a united front against a mutual foe of the mountain folk and the Koelings. A minor war, but one that left an indelible mark on both their histories.

“It’s just a shield! How does this help us?” Dustin fretted.

“Not just a shield. Mostly a shield, but-” Tom exclaimed as he reached into one of the narrow gaps in the back of the shield, “also a miniature armory.”

He pulled a dagger, whose steel was just as dark as the shield.

“That’s just a dagger!”

“A very, very well made one. Here, take these,” Tom commanded, producing two more daggers, both a bit longer than the one he had, and both made of godsteel. “You can dual wield, right?”

“Yeah, but these better be as good as you say!”

Tom simply smiled, as he ran to meet their opposition. The guard weapons simply glanced off the shield, as if they were hitting it with twigs. Tom easily cleared a path, while Dustin made sure to dispatch anyone who got too close, his weapons tearing through the flimsy chainmail of his foes. All of a sudden, their purpose changed. Rather than just escape, Tom and Dustin had the prospect of seeking some vengeance. As soon as they reacquired their own weapons, of course.

So, I did not get anything up yesterday. Because I was sick. I had a cold yesterday, which, in and of itself, isn’t terrible. Some people get destroyed by even the slightest illness. I, on the other hand, sometimes don’t even recognize the fact that I am sick until it’s already in its final stages. So, in short, sickness itself doesn’t really get to me. What really takes the wind out of my sails is the medicine. Because, like most people, I’d rather not be sick longer than I have to be. All that to say, when I wasn’t busy doing things, I can’t remember what I was doing, because I was loopy in the head from cold medicine. I was in no state to write anything. So, you have my sincerest apologies.

A Blacksmith’s Adventures with Weapons of Legend: Wicked Desire and the Twin Suns

It was with apprehension that the swordsman approached the criminal. He dreaded the coming encounter, knowing full well how it must end.

“So,” the fiend began, his back still turned to the swordsman. “You’ve finally arrived. It’s about time. You know how many people I’ve had to kill to get your attention?”

The warrior stood in silence.

“No? I’ll tell you, then. 23. That’s right. 12 men, 9 women, and 2 children. I tried to be civil. I tried to kill as few people as possible, but you just wouldn’t come. So, after I had killed a few soldiers, I decided maybe some civilians would motivate you. Only the men, mind you. I know you’re big on chivalry. But you wouldn’t come. So I had to push the envelope. The women were next. And, boy, were they fun! And yet you still refused my invitation. So, naturally, there was only one option left. The kiddos were rough, though. They’re wiggly when they’re still that young. Hard to hold onto. You can’t kill ’em when they won’t stand still. I had to settle for only killing two. But it seems that was sufficient.”

The warrior held his tongue, but the rage flowed from him in waves. He could not afford to blindly lash out, though. He knew exactly what he was dealing with, and the weapon was more dangerous than the man wielding it.

“It’s told me about you, you know. You have fascinated and baffled it. You’re one of the few. You got away. But even more than that, you resisted. No one resists the Wicked Desire. And yet you did. Tell me. Why? This blade hates me because it can’t twist me. I have always been twisted, so it doesn’t get the pleasure of doing it itself. But you! It loves people like you! The moral! The idealistic! The compassionate! It loves to break you. To cut you open, dissect the darkness of your mind, and to bring to the surface the dark desires hidden in your heart. Even now, you feel its lustful tendrils probing your mind, trying to free your perversions. How long did you carry it before the Paragon of Compassia took it from you? How long before you felt an irresistible urge to rape, murder and destroy? But you never broke, did you? You holed yourself away in a dead city, kept yourself away from the living, especially your loved ones. You didn’t want to hurt any of them. But I love this weapon! It’s given me new, even more twisted ideas! Truly delicious, really. And we’ve been thinking, what would be better than putting down the man who resisted? So here you are, Thomas Riversedge. Shall we begin?”

The monster turned and locked eyes with Tom. It was true; for several months, Tom’s mind and soul were held hostage by the wretched blade known as the Wicked Desire. Tom knew more than most about legendary weaponry, but this greatsword in particular stood out. Because he personally dealt with its terrible effects. It was not a normal magical weapon. It was a shard of Desiren’s soul given earthly form. A beautiful black single-edged blade, in the shape of a woman’s profile, with an intoxicating magical aura. It was hard to resist the blade once one set their eyes upon it. Once it was taken up, however, it began to play tricks on the mind. It took your greatest fears and darkest secrets, and it twisted them into perverse desires and unholy temptations. The purer and kinder you were, the more it desired to see your downfall. For months, Tom fought its demonic control. He had encountered the previous owner in the wilderness, and the man begged Tom to kill him. Tom refused, causing the man to attack him in a desparate bid to force his hand. Tom, unfortunately, did have to eliminate him. During his own struggle, his only contact with the outside world was Tara, the paragon of Compassia, who checked up on his friends and family for him. Eventually, with the aide of several of Tom’s allies, she wrested possession of the evil weapon from Tom. Something about Compassia’s blessing, or maybe as a part Tara’s intrinsically incorruptible nature, prevented Tara from being affected by the unholy weapon. Now, Tom had to face it down once more.

“Maybe, if you had lied, and told me the weapon forced you to do it, you might have been able to live a normal life after this, but it seems even the blade will not vouch for you,” Tom said gloomily.

“Come on! Let’s fight already!”

With that, the wicked man charged at Tom. Tom gave him an appropriately retaliatory volley of strikes.

“Man,” Tom said, “you’re really dishing out some serious damage here. Luckily, I came prepared.”

“What are you gonna do? Charm me into submission? Ha!”

“You’re not going to like this, old Desi!” Tom growled as he pulled out two golden swords.

The Wicked Desire seemed to scream in anger and fear as it felt the clash of the two shimmering blades against its own black-stained metal.

“What!? What is that!?” Tom’s foe shouted. “My sword wishes to withdraw! What did you do!?”

“The Twin Suns!” Tom declared in victory. “The guardian slaying swords! And let me tell you, it hurts to get hit by these babies when you’re comprised solely of a shard of a guardian’s soul!”

Tom knew that the legends of the swords slaying guardians were a bit exaggerated, but it was true that the blades, forged using the magic of wild guardians, did have a notable impact on guardians, abominations, and magical weapons. Hence why he brought them with him for this battle. After an extended battle, Tom finally brought his foe to his knees.

“It’s no use,” the criminal panted. “We all know you can’t kill people!”

“Can’t?” Tom said. “Or won’t? You see, I don’t kill people, if I can’t justify it. Plus, I like to give people second chances. But you are special. I can completely justify killing you. As you so kindly relayed to me, 12 men, 9 women, and 2 children.”

“You wouldn’t!” the man shouted.

Tom put the twin blades against the criminal’s neck. In a flash, the man’s head came rolling off.

“In this case, I would.”

Well, um, you may have noticed the distinct lack of chapter…again. Apparently I’m very bad at keeping my promises. Anyways, here’s what’s happened with chapter 4 and why you don’t have it yet. I attempted to completely rewrite the chapter, with a completely different story and a completely different series of events. That…did not work with the rest of my story. Now, I could have easily fixed these story issues, but it would have come in the form of cheap fixes, like explaining that when a character died they miraculously actually didn’t somehow. So I tried to redo it again, and it failed again, but this time because the story raised too many questions. A made a third attempt at rewriting the chapter, but didn’t get far because my heart wasn’t in it. So, I settled for polishing the boring, rather uneventful original chapter 4, which I’m not quite done with. I’ve made some progress on trying to make the medieval aspects of the world more realistic, thanks to Sorin, who is still alive, despite any rumors to the contrary, and is a history major. I like my adventure being adventurous, but for the sake of at least a little bit of realism I want to make it clear that this world is indeed Medieval. So commoners like Tom and Aaron can’t own land, for example. They can only rent it. Thus, Tom is not purchasing a home, but renting in Chapter 4. Now, I have taken some liberties. In many medieval nations, it was true that only nobles could own weapons whether it was a specific type of weapon, or just weapons in general. This is not true of my world. You need a license to lawfully own weapons, but that’s quite a step up from “nobles only.” Anyways, I plan on fixing a bunch of things retroactively. Making the prices of inns more realistic, for example. Little things that won’t affect the story overall, but hopefully give it a more real flavor. Anyways, I’m not done with Chapter 4 just yet. Sorry. No bonus content tonight, but hopefully in the morning you’ll get some, and maybe a chapter.