The Trickster's Blade

8/3/2019 The Trickster's Blade

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The Tricksters Blade

Among the bards of The Realm, there exists many a tale of magic weapons and the stories

of those who wielded them in ages past. These tales are as well known as they are numerous.

Although most of them are nothing more but pure fantasy crafted by a few particularly

imaginative bards, they are still well loved by the common folk and nobility alike. However,

there is one story in particular that is almost always told in the presence of a more unsavory sort

of audience (The kind of crowd that a bard would find if he or she were to walk into a tavern

frequented by ruffians, vagabonds, and thieves.) And that story would be the tale of the

legendary Tricksters Blade.

The blade itself was said to have had many different owners throughout the years, many

of whose exploits have become famous through songs and stories told by bard across the land.

(Auronil the Nightstalker, Cyrill the Duelist, and Dran Vek the Bandit King to name a few) But

none of its owners were as well known as the original. The person said to be the first owner of

the Tricksters Blade, (and by some accounts, its creator) was Illana Shadow Walker. Legend

has it that Illana was blessed by the goddess Sehanine herself at birth, and all accounts of her

exploits seem to support that claim. Although many bards seem to argue on the specific details of

her character, all of their stories describe her as an incredibly swift, cunning and beautiful

woman, who was capable of stealing the most precious treasures, taking down powerful enemies

in a single deadly attack, and brining down influential political leaders through diplomacy and

subterfuge.

It is said that when she knew death was upon her, Illana was able to pass the blessing of

Sehanine to her blade, and pass it down to her protge. According to the legend, Illana told her

understudy, (the second wielder of the tricksters blade) that Sehanine would guide the sword


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into the hands of one worthy enough to wield it in each generation. This claim proved itself to be

true enough, as many of those who held the sword became famous for their numerous heroic

endeavors (it is assumed that those who were not remembered, where those whos names were

spoken in whispers, and who did not wish for their actions to become known). The blade was

Illanas legacy, passed down not through generations of her own family, but through generations

of the family made up of Sehanines children across the realm.

Late at night on a cool spring evening, deep within The Forest, a camp with one bedroll

was set up in a clearing. The flames from the small fire illuminated the area, and a man lay on

the ground, with a travelers pack set up next to him. One worthy enough to wield it, huh

Quinn mumbled to himself as he lay in his bedroll, his grey eyes darting over an old wrinkled

scroll. He rolled up the scroll, and stuck it into one of the pockets of his travelers pack. More

likely the first person to get their hands on it. He said as he lay back on his bed, his hands

folded behind his head, looking up at the stars. He chuckled to himself, Well, either way, thats

gonna be me. Quinn had been on a journey to find the legendary Tricksters blade for several

months now, and after weeks and weeks of pouring over old maps and scrolls, listening to stories

from several eccentric bards, and finding one dead end after another, he had finally manage to

locate the tomb of the last known owner of the blade, Carric the Red. Based on a map of the area

Quinn had found, he was camped approximately six hours from a set of ancient ruins which he

believed to be Carrics tomb. Quinn fell asleep with a grin on his face, dreaming of the legendary

weapon, as well as what other beautiful treasures may lie in Carrics forgotten tomb.

He awoke early the following morning, folded up his bedroll and placed it safely in his

Travelers pack. He strapped on his light leather armor, sharpened his blade, fastened his dark


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cloak with a small silver clasp, and checked through his equipment to ensure that he had

everything he would need to get into, (and out of) the tomb. Torches, sun rods, trail rations, rope,

lock picks, a grappling hook, a hammer, pitons, a disguise kit, padded boots, a glass cutter,

brushes, dusts, tweezers, picks, probes, a magnifying glass, vials, base ingredients for poison, a

crook-eye, caltrops, and several daggers strapped into hidden compartments worked into his

apparel, everything he needed was there. Quinn put his travelers pack on and began to head

through the forest towards the ruins.

After a few hours of walking through the forest, Quinn finally found the ruin. It looked

ancient, only one of the four pillars was still standing, most of the stone was covered with moss,

and vines had crept their way up to the top of the standing column.Now where is the

entrance Quinn thought as he began to walk around the fallen pillars, searching for the way in.

When he made his way to the center of the ruins, he noticed a sudden change underfoot from soft

grass and soil to what felt like hard stone. He reached to the ground, and quickly brushed away a

layer of dirt that covered what appeared to be a thick stone trap door, with a rusty handle.Found

you, Quinn pulled on the trap door as hard as he could, until it eventually came open and

revealed a long set of stairs leading into total darkness.

Quinn lit one of his sun rods and began to descend quietly down the stairs, he had heard

plenty of stories of monstrous creatures laying wait in forgotten tombs, and as a result, he was

careful not to disturb them. As he was walking down the stairs, Quinn heard something,

immediately froze, and covered his sun rod with his cloak. Quinn stood on the stairwell, not

moving and inch, and focused on the noise. Sounds like Shuffling. someone walking down there

maybe? No, not somebody, too much noise for that. Maybe three or four people but none of

them are speaking to each other? And in pitch black dark? No, definitely not people, not human


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at least As Quinns thoughts raced, he heard a low moan coming from the bottom of the stairs.

And he instantly knew what was waiting for him.Zombies? Well, thats not bad at all. Quinn

exhaled a sigh of relief, happy to know that all he had to get past in this room, was a few clumsy,

witless walking corpses. A smile crept across his face as he drew his short sword from his sheath

and started moving further down the stairs. Judging from the sound of the shuffling Quinn was

close to the entrance of the room, and it didnt appear as if the undead had been alerted to his

presence. This is gonna be too easy. In an instant Quinn tossed the sun rod into the room and ran

in, before the first zombie could even turn around to react, Quinn had already lopped its head off.

One down. The zombies were slow to react, and Quinn fell upon the second one before the others

could begin to move, slashing his stomach open and then bringing his blade down into the

zombies leg. Two to go The two remaining creatures moved towards Quinn, both of whom

attempted to slam into Quinn with unholy strength. The first strike was easy enough to dodge,

but escaping that had set him momentarily off balance and the second swing was going to

connect.

Quinn raised his short sword in the path of the Zombies arm, to redirect the attack, and

throw his enemy off balance.Perfect, as the zombie reeled backwards, Quinn took this

opportunity to burry one of his daggers in the back of the zombies head, and then quickly

stepped away from the remaining aggressor, and in order to ready himself for the assault.Last

one, as expected, the zombie mindlessly charged after Quinn, swinging wildly. In response,

Quinn swung low, leaving a large cut in its legs, and causing the abomination to fall to the

ground. After the zombie fell, Quinn wasted no time finishing his enemy off. He took his short

sword in both hands, and stabbed downward into its spine.


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Well, that was simple enough. He thought as he retrieved his dagger from the back of the

thirds skull. Though, I should probably be a bit more carful from here on out. Places like these

are always riddled with traps. Unfortunately enough for Quinn, his prediction proved to be quite

accurate, pitfalls, arrow traps, and poison darts were in almost every corridor of the tomb.

Thankfully, Quinn was no rookie when it came to finding, avoiding, and disabling traps. He was

able to make his way through all of them with a few close calls in-between. Well, nearly all of

them.

As Quinn was walking through one of the passages, he saw something unusual. There

was light coming from around the corner.Finally, Quinn rushed around the corner and what he

saw made his face light up. The room was lined with a set of four torches, all of them were lit,

besides that there were only two things that Quinn noticed in that room. Number one, was a

stone coffin with the name Carric the Red written in elvish script on the side. Number two, the

room was nearly filled with shiny, beautiful, glittering gold.

In any other moment, Quinn probably would have begun scooping up as much of the gold

as he could and filling every pocket, pack and pouch he had on him with the lovely coins. But he

knew what was in that coffin. He stepped up to it and pushed off the lid, it fell on the ground,

scattering gold pieces throughout the room. Inside Quinn saw the now rotted corpse of none

other than Carric the Red himself, and in his hands, was a perfectly sharp, curved blade with a

dark blue hilt.

This is it, the tricksters blade. Quinn thought as he stood over the coffin, staring at the

sword. Well my friend, while I do feel awfully bad about robbing something as precious as this

from your lovely little tomb, I think its about time for you to pass on the family heirloom.

Quinn reached down and grabbed the hilt of the sword. Dont worry, he said, I promise Ill


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take good care of it for you. Quinn lifted the blade from the coffin and held it up. It shined

brilliantly in the torchlight; there wasnt a scratch or a smudge sullying the steels luster. The

blade felt light in his hands, much lighter than the short sword he had been using. The hilt was a

deep blue color, and the guard, made of a similar material, curved upward on the backside of the

blade, and downward on the other. Beautiful Quinn stared at the blade in complete awe for a

few moments, until a loud booming noise interrupted his trance. YOU ARE NOT WORTHY a

ghostly voice echoed all around the tomb. The light from the torches began to dim, and was

replaced by an eerie blue glow from arcane runes surrounding the stone coffin, and the room

began to shake. Quinn was barely able to keep his balance by holding onto the edge of the coffin,

when he saw the eye sockets of Carrics skeletal corpse begin to glow. INTO THE NETHER

WITH YOU, WRETCH the voice was deafening, and Quinn felt himself pulled into the coffin.

When he looked down at the skeleton again, all he saw was a swirling black void pulling him in

ward.

The force pulling him inward got stronger and stronger, until he had two choices left. Let

go of the sword and hold onto the coffin for dear life, or hold onto the sword, and get sucked into

the twisting nether. For Quinn, it was an easy decision.No way Im letting go of you now, Quinn

held onto the hilt of the blade as tightly as he could, and let go of the coffin.

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The Trickster's Blade