The Blood-Stained Blade Ch. 81-83

Ch. 81 - At Last

Ivarr! The blade screamed in Var’gar’s head as the orc merely gazed at the nearest figures and growled. It had longed to kill this man. Other than the dangers ahead and its ultimate goal, the blade thought of little else besides what it wanted to do to him, and now, rather than having to hunt the man down, he’d appeared all on his own, ready for slaughter. 

-126 Life Force

+14 Life Force

I wonder if that elvish witch is one of those mages back there? The blade asked itself. It was a good question, but not so good that it could tear its attention away from Ivarr. The smoke and wisps of black, death energy floated between them, but nothing could hide this man from him now, and the Ebon Blade took in every inch of him and his companions as it tried to balance threat awareness with its need for vengeance. 

All three had hexblades. That was the first thing that the blade noticed. However, before it could study any other hints of danger, it noticed that the traitor had both of his hands, and it immediately fixated on that. The young man had lost his right hand but had it replaced with a pale facsimile that was so close to the real thing that…

It is his hand, the blade whispered. The mage saved it, just as she said she would. In that moment, the blade vowed to itself that it would cut the thing off a second time. 

-104 Life Force

+13 Life Force

There should be no such thing as a former wielder in its world. The blade existed to be used by one man or even a monster until they died in combat. Then, they were to be replaced by someone even stronger. The idea that a wielder would ever outlive or replace it was anathema to its very existence, and the idea that the man who had betrayed it could even hold another sword enraged it. However, it didn’t enrage it so much that it stopped studying the strange limb as its wielder staggered through the smoke and steam toward the group. 

Its former wielder’s skin was tan, but only to the forearm. After that, it was deathly pale. There was an ugly scar where the two dissimilar colors of flesh met and a number of dark runes that appeared to have been tattooed on both sides of that scar. 

Perhaps I can nullify the magic that lets his defective limb even work, the blade growled at itself. Wouldn’t that be fitting? Though it enjoyed the idea of defeating him in combat, it enjoyed the idea of watching him fall, disarmed and useless even more.

Its opponents were well-informed as to its nature, but it had learned a number of powers in the weeks since it had last been held by a man. It had almost as many surprises for them as they seemed to for it. Their attempts to purge it from the world had been reasonable, and perhaps if they’d done so in the days before Stefan’s Ford, they might have been successful. 

-94 Life Force

+11 Life Force

Now, though, they’d only given the blade a chance to feast. Even after the terrible crucible it had just endured, it still had 48/70 Souls and 8191/10,600 Life Force.

That was a formidable resource, but so too was the blind rage of its wielder, and as the hulking orc staggered forward, it picked up speed with every step. It still wasn’t anywhere near top form, but it was more monster than corpse now, and against only three warriors, that was all that it needed. 

“Be careful,” the older witchhunter shouted. “That’s the Black Blade, I’m certain, sure! Its as crafty as it is powerful!”

Ebon Blade, the weapon spat silently. 

The blade did not intercede in Var’gar’s first attack. It wanted them to think it weakened and perhaps even on the edge of death. So, it let the orc fumble and only planned to intercede when it saw a trick or an opening. At first, though, all it saw were all three men stepping back and spreading out. All three held swords at the ready, but none of them tried to parry. 

-94 Life Force

+11 Life Force

That was wise, but still, the blade searched all three swords arrayed against it for some clue of what it might face. None of them looked like the hexblades that the previous witch hunters had wielded. They didn’t have the dull gray metal or the familiar lusterless runes it had seen before. Instead, one glowed with black lines, while the other glowed with silver. Ivarr’s was the brightest, though, and instead of flickering with fire or lightning, its runes glowed with sky-blue light. 

The question wasn’t if it should touch any of these blades because it would have to fight any kind of proper battle. It was which one it should touch first because while it could probably nullify their magics, doing so might open it up to nasty consequences at least once. 

At least the mages don’t seem likely to help as long as I’m close to their allies, the blade thought, surveying the larger field of battle and deciding it was down to just the four of them. 

Still, for now, it let its wielder hack and slash as each of its opponents moved back. It wasn’t until they were surrounding it in a triangle that they finally struck. The blade watched all three of their weapons flash out in unison, and then it struck, shoulder-checking the black-sworded witch hunter while it parried the silver and moved away from Ivarr enough that his attack skittered off its wielder’s ribs. 

-122 Life Force

+3 Life Force

It was a solid strike, but it was already almost healed by the time the blade withdrew. What was more interesting, though, was what it found when its blade hammered down against the warrior with the silver hexblade. When that happened, its attack just stopped, like its orcish wielder had simply brought it gently to a stop.

A feeling of vertigo went through the blade in that moment. One second, the orc was hammering the blade down with enough force to break the man’s arm or send the blade flying, if not break it entirely, and the next, it felt like its disruptive magic was being reflected back upon it.  

You have connected to a Blade of Defense. You cannot learn Bulwark, Riposte, or Grace, as they are anathema to your nature. 

The blade didn’t need to be told that. It recoiled immediately at what it found. What had been cast on that weapon were armor enchantments in a different form. It was entirely defensive in nature.

While the pop-up did not give the weapon a detailed breakdown of what the powers did exactly, it was easy enough to see. The man had robbed its blow of all its power and momentum. The only question was if it had used Bulwark or—

To answer that question, the slight warrior smiled and suddenly unleashed an attack far too fast and powerful for the man, splitting open the left side of Var’gar’s rib cage and halfway gutting the orc. His response was immediate and instinctual. Even as he felt the sharp pain of the new wound momentarily overwhelm the dull pain of his still-healing burns, he lashed out with his left fist, catching the guy in the side of his helmet and sending him sprawling. 

-238 Life Force

+6 Life Force

The blade had been planning to nullify that hexblade, for it could be irksome, but Var’gar’s solution was even better. The man had been entirely focused on the weapon, and it had cost him. That strike left him with just Ivarr for the moment, and its wielder whirled on him. The strike was more about speed than strength, but even so, it was enough to send up a shower of sparks between the blades and force Ivarr to stagger back, creating an opening. 

As it touched the blade, it felt its magic, but it ignored it for the moment and focused on the hand of its former wielder. You have connected to a Blade of Heroism. You already know Amplify Wielder. You already know Accelerate Wielder. You have learned Inspire!

It had little interest in the fact that Ivarr was faster or stronger than normal. It knew that the moment that he hadn’t been knocked away by Var’gar’s first blow. Instead, it reached for his hand. You have connected to the enchantment Ghost Hand. You cannot learn this ability, for you are meant to be held by and not to hold. Your alignment has moved slightly toward Necromancy. 

The blade ignored the message and instead used its own power to try disrupting it. 

-50 Life Force. 

Disrupted! The Ghost Hand’s magic has been temporarily nullified!

The blade smiled at that, watching the consternation on Ivarr’s face as his right hand went boneless, and his blade dipped slightly now that it was held only in his left hand. The blade enjoyed that moment of confusion so much that it would have smiled if it had been capable of it. It forced its wielder forward, pressing its advantage, and Ivarr retreated as their two hexblades ground against each other. 

“The blade did something…” Ivarr shouted in a panic. “My hand… It—”

Before he could warn his fellows, the blade used Var’gar’s body to lash out and kick the boy in the chest, sending him toppling back. 

“Thisss endsss nowwww…” the Ebon Blade growled, forcing Var’gar’s slack mouth and empty mind to form the words in the common tongue. There was nothing in that brain but rage and violence anymore, so he didn’t resist. Still, the words came out more than a little clumsy, but no one was listening to Var’gar. 

-74 Life Force

+9 Life Force

A lightning bolt struck him from far off, staggering the orc for a moment, but the blade forced itself through it as its muscles continued to strengthen. It reached Ivarr before the man had a chance to rise. He tried to scramble away, but he was no match for the orcish stride. 

-133 Life Force

+12 Life Force

In that moment, the blade brought itself down hard enough to split its old wielder in two. It didn’t know what it was going to do with Ivarr’s soul yet, but it knew that it wouldn’t let it slip away. Only the sudden imposition of the man with the Blade of Defense saved Ivarr. He raised his sword in a parry, but Ebon Blade had no interest in a repeat performance of last time. 

-50 Life Force. 

Disrupted! The Blade of Defense’s magic has been temporarily nullified!

The instant before their two blades met, the lights went out on the Witchhunter’s hexblade, and the Ebon blade slammed into it with the force of a mule’s kick, driving the blade back into its wielder with so much force that it cut right through his collar bone and embedded part way into his ribcage.

-55 Life Force

+44 Life Force

The witch hunter opened his mouth to speak, but only blood came out before he fell over dead, with his hands still wrapped around the hilt that killed him. That momentary allowed Ivarr to get to his feet and, for the moment, escape, but that wouldn’t last. The blade would follow relentlessly and… 

It had grown too focused on its obsession, and it hadn’t seen the second Witchunter coming until the man shouted. “Jarron! Noooo!” It was a terrible tactical decision, but even that warning didn’t allow the orc’s battered body to pivot in time, and the second witch hunter ran its wielder through between the ribs, stabbing all the way through his ribcage far enough that the tip of the glowing black blade came out of Var’gar’s chest.  

-227 Life Force

+8 Life Force

You have connected to a Vampiric Blade. You already know Siphon. You already know Vampirism. You already know Red Haze. 

The fact that it knew the powers of such a blade, or even that some of them were part of a path while others were a core function, was not a surprise to the blade. What was, was what happened when it attempted to disrupt the weapon. When that happened, an uncomfortable sensation spread through the blade, and for just a moment, it thought that its own power had backfired on it. 

-99 Life Force

+10 Life Force

-50 Life Force. 

Disruption Failed! The Vampiric Blade’s magic is too similar to your own to be targeted. 

That’s not good, the blade told itself as it watched its life force tick down. Its siphon wasn’t nearly as strong as its, but it still wasn’t what it wanted with so few humans left to devour and its army all but annihilated. If the man just left it embedded there it was like a hole in its soul, and it could drain a lot of Life Force. 

Its wielder turned to try to dislodge the pest and remove the blade, but the witch hunter stayed behind him, trying to twist the sword in hopes of hitting some vital spot and crippling the orc. Given the rate at which he was healing, that was all but impossible. While its Flesh and Bone powers wouldn’t displace the sword like it did the arrows that were pushed out of Var’gars flesh while it healed despite the impediment, it turned out that it didn’t need to because it was then that the Witchunter made the greatest mistake of its short life. 

It confused the blade’s indecision with inability, and so he yanked his hexblade free in a wide slash through the rib cage that split one of the orc's lungs in two and cut off part of its liver, sending out a great green fountain of blood as it tore free. Even as he did so, though, the Ebon blade had reversed its grip on its wielder’s grip on its hilt before stabbing himself through the chest, through the very same wound track to void, doing much more damage than necessary. 

-64 Life Force

+48 Life Force

The witch hunter never saw it coming, and even though only an inch of the weapon’s tip penetrated his armor and flesh and missed the heart completely, that was it for him. He staggered back, mortally wounded, as his life flooded into the blade. 

He gasped as the blade withdrew itself from its wielder's chest, then, without a look back, it turned to Ivarr. It was time to finish this. 

Ch. 82 - Finishing This

Their blades met again, even before the second Witchhunter had fallen to the ground. Ivarr swung his hexblade as hard as he could with one hand, but it was nothing compared to what Var’Gar could do. Mindless and enraged, his body was still only two-thirds or three-quarters functional, but he parried Ivarr’s desperate blow and then shoved him back, putting him on his back foot before hammering against his former wielder’s glowing blue blade once, twice, and thrice. 

-59 Life Force

+13 Life Force

Each blow brought another shower of sparks and made the boy’s blade flare to life. That’s right, the blade gloated silently. Each you use magic, you get weaker, and each time I do, I get stronger. As the fight was going on, it was already leaching life from him with its Aura of Hunger, but with its reduced power and a warrior of Ivarr’s vitality, that power would take time to slow him down. 

-50 Life Force. 

Disruption Failed! The Heroic Blade Possesses the Purity trait and cannot be disrupted. 

+9 Life Force.

That frustrated the blade, but only a little. It did not need to deactivate the blade to win, but it would have made things faster.

Even with a hexblade in his hand, it was a one-sided battle, and as tempted as the Ebon Blade was to let it linger, it knew that the right thing to do in this case was to finish this as quickly as possible, not let it linger. It intended to do just that, but for better or worse, the boy had learned something from its tutelage, and he never quite gave it the opening it needed, retreating before each blow and giving ground to aid in his defense. 

-47 Life Force

+8 Life Force

Ivarr only rarely lashed out in response, and even then, it was when the orc’s still healing body unbalanced itself. Each time, though, he lashed out for its wielder’s wrists, which annoyed the blade. As its former wielder, it knew exactly how temporary a serious wound was and focused on its only weakness: the point where it connected to its wielder. 

If he were to succeed, the results would be catastrophic. It had to sacrifice too much of its aura’s power to drain him to death while lying on the ground. While its burn-scarred wielder might be able to survive without its magic at this point, his mind was too far gone to think straight, and he was unlikely to pick the weapon back up. 

Fortunately, such an outcome was unlikely. Despite the speed at which he lashed out with the blade, he didn’t connect. Each time, the blade simply adjusted its angle slightly to block with its pommel or hilt. One Var’gar lost the little finger on his right hand, but that was almost followed by Ivarr losing his head. 

-52 Life Force

+9 Life Force

He only escaped that by a narrow margin, and even the nick that the sword was able to inflict on him was enough to make him go pale and stagger back, leaving a thin trail of blood connecting them in the air. 

Yes! The blade roared silently. This is finally over! 

It raised its blade up high and brought it down for the final time, and Ivarr stayed there on his knees, making no attempt to move. He looked like he’d given up. That should have worried the Ebon Blade, but at that moment, something unexpected happened: Ivarr grasped it. Not physically, but from a distance, diverting the attack by tilting the handle slightly and, more importantly, trying to seize control. 

-49 Life Force

+6 Life Force

Ghost Hand has been activated! You have been seized.

During all the fighting, its disruption had elapsed, and somehow, instead of using the strange magic to physically use his own hand, he used it to reach out and control Var’gar’s. In that moment, the three souls were pitted against each other, and the blade stiffened up as it had when Elom had sought to steal it so long ago. 

That only lasted a second. The blade was far stronger than it had been then, but a second was all Ivarr needed. As Var’gar’s blow went wide, burying it deep into the earth, Ivarr’s cyan-shrouded blade came up and cleaved through the orc’s wrist, several things happened at once. The first thing was that it disrupted that foul magic. Even as it did so, it lost connection with its true wielder, rendering it alone for the first time since the griffon strike. 

-50 Life Force. 

Disrupted! The Ghost Hand’s magic has been temporarily nullified!

-78 Life Force

+9 Life Force

Then, as now, Var’gar’s severed hand clung to the blade. This time, though, there was no delay. Ivarr lacked the strength to push the orc away from the hand, so it was only separated by inches, and when the monster leaned forward and grabbed Ivar by his throat with his left hand, the stump reconnected by accident. 

The Ebon Blade searched its wielder’s mind and immediately saw that there was no thought left in that well-baked skull. The body lived, but the chieftain that had once inhabited it was gone. It was only hunger and pain that led it to grab for Ivarr, but it was the blade that made the orc squeeze and lift him off the ground by his throat. 

-66 Life Force

+4 Life Force

It had just come within inches or seconds of losing, and that thought terrified it, but it could worry about that later. Even that fear would not be allowed to taint this moment. All its wielder wanted to do was rip Ivarr’s face off with his teeth, but the blade restrained it. It ignored the way that the boy squirmed as he lifted his sword and brought it down twice on the orc’s thick skull. 

-221 Life Force

The blows hurt. One even cleaved straight through Var’Gar’s ridged brow, spilling gray matter on the ground, but it changed nothing. The blade was puppeting the half-dead wielder, and it was only delaying the inevitable as his wrist grew strong enough to strike the final blow. It had to be the one to strike the final blow.

“Youuu sshoouuld neeeveeer haaave leeefft meeeee,” the blade forced its wielder to speak in the common tongue.  

“I…” Ivar gasped, choking as the orcish grip tightened. “I never wanted to—”

The blade tossed its opponent in the air, then, as he was falling, it struck him, cutting him cleanly in two from head to groin, shattering his armor, and letting him fall to the ground in a spray of red blood before it stepped over him. In that moment, lightning struck its wielder’s body, but that barely stunned it now. It could feel no pain after what it had been through. 

-165 Life Force

+57 Life Force

+1 Human Soul. 

The Ebon Blade saw a pop-up for the Path of Vengeance pop up, but it ignored it as it considered its options. There were any number of things it could do in that moment, but they basically amounted to fight or flight. 

It could try to kill those who still stood against it, or it could try to outrun them. While the latter would have been safer in most circumstances, it was distasteful because it did not like the idea of quitting the field of battle. Worse, these were mages. They would use magic to track it down and spring an ambush.

But to fight them, I’ll have to close 50 yards, and they’ll certainly have defenses prepared for that, it told itself. What I really need is the ability to close the gap, but…

-119 Life Force

+9 Life Force

The blade’s words trailed off as it realized that was exactly what it had to do. It quickly checked to remind itself what Bolt 4 did, and then, with one last look at its dead wielder, it burned most of its remaining souls and charged the nearest mage. 

Bolt 4: Infuse your attacks with electrical energy, adding 15-30 electrical damage to a strike for the cost of 15 Life Force, or strike at a distance with a range off up to half of your Aura of Hunger for 20 Life Force. Fo an additional 20 Life Force you can ride your own lightning attack, reappearing at the point of termination instantly. 

Bolt may only be used this way once a minute. This attack cannot be combined with other strikes like Amplify Blade.

In its current state, 7500 Life Force was a lot of power. Even after it burned almost every soul it didn’t want to question, it 1856/10600, but it needed a wild card for this fight. It did not quite fear mages, but it was wary of how versatile they were.

The first mage wore blue robes instead of red, as most of the others did. It did not know what that meant, except that it would not be the elven mage it most wanted to kill. The man was casting something as the Ebon Blade made the orc’s legs pump to close the gap. It wasn’t quite fast enough to avoid the lance of ice that impaled it, but it was fast enough to escape the fireball that the older man next to the blue-robed man was casting. 

-161 Life Force.

+4 Life Force.

Even as its wielder’s body was impaled by an eight-foot-long chunk of sharpened ice, the blade responded with a spell of its own, and leveling itself at its enemy, it unleashed a bolt of lightning from 50 feet away, catching the man squarely in the chest before appearing behind him. 

-40 Life Force.

You have used Bolt! 

That stunned him, but almost as much as the unexpected sensation of traveling along the trail of lightning stunned the blade. Still, it didn’t hesitate and swung down, killing the fire wielder before the blue-robbed mage had even gained control of his muscles. It then dispatched him for good measure and looked toward the next group. 

-99 Life Force.

+87 Life Force.

+2 Human Souls.

There was no cover on this grassy hillside. The horses, the officers riding them, and all the surviving archers had long since fled. What remained were five mages who were still on their feet. Three wore red, one wore white, and the final one wore black. It made a note to ask one of their souls what those colors meant when this was done. 

All of them were equally far away right now, so it ran toward the white-robed man because he stood out and because he was standing directly between where it was and the elf witch it most wanted to kill, who was only a little further back. 

-86 Life Force.

+4 Life Force.

It made it only halfway before some sort of magic stiffened the orc’s limbs, freezing it in place. No! The blade raged, struggling against whatever this spell was as the air wavered around it invisibly. It was less than twenty feet from its goal when it felt itself frozen. Even its attempts to force the orcs limbs to move as it had done with the mirror met without only limited success. It tried to disrupt the spell, but that didn’t work either. 

 -50 Life Force. 

Disruption Failed! The Hold Monster effect is not magical but holy and cannot be disrupted. 

Holy? The blade wondered, wanting to kill the man now more than ever. It had been denied the last soul of the priest it had tried to claim, and it hoped to have better luck with this one. 

“I can’t…” the man gasped, sweating visibly. “He’s… It’s too strong… You have to…”

As the man struggled, the blade struggled too, and as it saw him falter, it pushed forward harder than ever, at least until the first spell landed. Thanks to Flesh and Bone, its body had displaced the giant icicle that had pierced its chest cavity, but now it was being bombarded as all four mages launched different spells at it. Bone shards, fire, acid, and a wave of crystal shards mortified its flesh. It was a maelstrom of pain.

-236 Life Force.

+7 Life Force.

The blade was less concerned with the damage to its muscles and mobility than any agony its wielder might be feeling. Its wielder’s body might still live, but that was only a technicality. Instead, it just struggled, counting down the moment until it could use its bolt power again. Its blade was pointed the wrong way, so it couldn’t shoot any of the mages, but soon either this spell would break, or it would move, and when it did—

-40 Life Force.

You have used Bolt! 

The blade launched itself along a streak of lightning, breaking free of the magic that had held it in place, and taking it near to the black-robed mage. That man only barely had time to turn before the blade beheaded him and charged the next red-robed mage. This one burned Var’gar’s insensible flesh again, and someone else struck it with lightning, but neither was enough to save the man before it had buried the full length of its blade through his chest. 

“We have to flee!” the white-robed man yelled in a tone that was bordering on hysteria. 

-136 Life Force.

+3 Life Force.

The blade had no idea if that’s what the second red mage who’d run up just behind him was doing, but it launched a bolt of lightning at the man just in case, even as it charged the elf with faltering steps.    

-20 Life Force.

You have used Bolt! 

Ch. 83 - The Killing Fields

No! You will not escape me! The blade called out as he saw the portal open behind her. It used Bolt again in an attempt to stop her, and it saw the blow stagger her as it seared the robes of her chest, but even so, she fell on the other side of the rift she’d created, and even as it started running toward her, the thing slammed shut. 

The blade roared in wordless outrage through Var’gar’s mouth at that moment, raising his burned, battered head skyward and bellowing just like a true orc might. It might have kept going, too, and one of the mages who remained behind not lashed out at it with a lance of fire. That was enough to draw the Ebon Blade’s ire, and it turned and charged them. 

-164 Life Force.

+3 Life Force.

Neither of them escaped this time. And in seconds, both of them were nothing but corpses. When the blade saw that it only got one soul again instead of two, it began to hack them into bloody pieces until there was little left of either of them. 

+88 Life Force.
+1 Human Soul.

The act did not help it overcome its frustration. For weeks, it had craved their deaths. Now Ivarr, the traitor, had finally been struck down, but the witch who led him astray still breathed, and Altharia’s survival cast a pall over the whole thing. 

Still enraged, the blade looked around for someone else to kill. It would settle for anyone, even a horse, but there was no one left alive on this battlefield, and its Life Force was getting desperately low. 

-122 Life Force.

+8 Life Force.

At this moment, it was facing the same dilemma that it had with Ren early on, just with much bigger numbers. It was almost out of power, but the Ebon Blade had no way to stop Var’gar from continuing to drain it to the dregs. If that happened, it would pass out. Even the three hundred and two Life Force it had left might not be enough to save the badly wounded orc’s life since he was still peppered with wounds.

She might come back with reinforcements, the blade told itself. I should attempt to escape now while I can… Really, though, it knew that plan was unlikely to succeed. It was magic that was holding this orcish body together. It was more than just burns and stab wounds; Var’gar had numerous internal injuries that hadn’t completely healed because of the ferocity of the fighting. 

-98 Life Force.

+3 Life Force.

His liver was still lacerated, both of his lungs were on the verge of collapse, and even putting aside the fact that almost a third of his body was still covered in serious burns, his arm and skull were only partially healed. 

Better to recover enough that I can walk day and night than get only far enough away to be found tomorrow, the blade told itself. As it forced him to stagger back toward the burn scar where they’d suffered so recently. 

-87 Life Force.

+9 Life Force.

There was nothing living left to kill and no souls that it wanted to consume, but there were thousands of dead to feast on. Even if there was only a trickle of Life Force from each of them, that might be enough to help its wielder pull through. Its wielder had fought bravely, and though there was no longer much of a mind left for it to be loyal in that shattered body, if it could make the body survive long enough to heal, then it could at least walk away and locate someone new to hold it.

-77 Life Force.

+11 Life Force.

When it reached the center of the field, it lay down amidst a cluster of equally mutilated and burned orcish corpses. There, it would hide from a cursory inspection and gather as much death energy as possible. Unfortunately, the amount of Life Force it spent healing its wielder very slightly exceeded the amount of energy it was getting from the dead. 

Eventually, his wounds will heal, and then this will be done, the blade told itself, but that wasn’t the way it worked out. 

-56 Life Force.

+12 Life Force.

As it approached zero, the amount of energy it got was scarcely enough to keep the orc breathing. It reached out to drain anything it could, which was mostly crows, but on a battlefield that was still smoldering, even those birds were scarce. Periodically, when the Ebon Blade would brush against zero, Var’gar’s heartbeat would start to falter, but it was already doing everything it could for the orc.

-33 Life Force.

+14 Life Force.

Finally, almost two hours after the fighting had stopped, the blade succumbed to the darkness. It was only for an hour or two. It returned to life in time to watch the sunrise, but by then, Var’gar was a stone-cold corpse, and his soul had been added to the blade’s collection. The blade had mixed feelings about that.

+13 Life Force.
+1 Greater Monster Soul.

On the one hand, it was pleased that the orc was no longer a burden to it, and its Life Force total was very slowly rising again, but on the other hand, it felt like it had let the orc down. He had not been a bad wielder, and he’d done everything the blade commanded, but in the end, he hadn’t been able to save him. 

I always planned to throw him away when I crushed the castle and burned the throne, the blade reminded itself, but still, that wasn’t enough for it to entirely relieve it of the burden, and it spent the first few hours of that night trying to decide what it might have done differently.

+11 Life Force.

In the end, it decided its main failure had been overconfidence. I had no way to know that there were mages lying in wait, but I should have guessed. It decided. It thought sure that it would have noticed a dozen people in red robes in the back rank, but it could have very been an illusion that protected them. It even had an illusionary effect of its own. 

Now it was lying here, helpless, until someone found it. My control is up to 4, it reassured itself. If anyone short of an iron-willed witch hunter picks me up, I shall simply bend them to my will. 

It could easily worry all night about such things, but for now, it focused on other things, like the souls it had and the advancement it had made along the Path of Vengeance. 

You have slain someone who wronged you, but it did not quench the rage that dwells in your soul. If you killed everyone that had ever crossed you, that would not change, but even that will not stop you. The scales must be balanced, after all. 

Now you must balance the scales with your wielder. They have helped you in your quest for vengeance, so now you must help them with theirs. 

The Path of Vengeance: Level 2 -> help them take their vengeance and kill two people that have wronged your wielder to reach Level 3.

Level 2 Powers: 

Detect Grudge:  For five Life Force you can determine the direction of a specific person that you or your wielder bear a strong grudge against. 

Anger Issues: Your wielder takes 10% less damage, and 50% less pain when pursuing vengeance for themselves or on your behalf. This bonus is doubled when pursuing a vengeance that both of you share.

While the powers it got from level two were certainly more interesting than number one, the condition was almost as frustrating as the first one had been. I don’t even have a wielder, the weapon complained, but when I do, I have to take time out of my mission to go track down those who have wronged them? 

For a wielder it felt loyalty to, that wouldn’t be a problem, but the idea that it was just supposed to drop whatever it was doing for some nebulous upgrade annoyed it almost as being stuck lying here amongst the corpses. 

+14 Life Force.

I’d rather never finish the path, the blade decided glumly as it saw the first hints of motion after midnight. 

The dark did not hamper its vision, and though it suspected what it saw moving at the very edges of its vision were carrion feeders, it soon became clear that it was a different sort of bottom feeder, the kind that walked on two legs. 

Grave robbers picked through the field, starting with the hill where the humans had made their last stand. The first one to pick through the mages rode off before any of his fellows could steal from him. Smart, the blade thought glumly. If it had stayed up there, that man would certainly have tried to steal it, and it would love to have another smart master like Ivarr. 

They might never find me out here, it realized as it lay amongst the bodies. Its runes glowed very softly with the minimal Life Force it had, so at night, it was more visible than normal, but that glow was no brighter than the stars that dotted the heavens above them.

+10 Life Force.

As it watched the men fan out and pick through the human side of the battle lines, the blade considered interrogating one of the mage souls it had seized just to pass the time. It had no idea what it planned to do with the souls of its wielders, but in the end, it didn’t. Not only would that have distracted it at what might be a critical moment, but it would mean using up a valuable resource in the face of great uncertainty. 

It had no wish to waste such valuable souls, but if it needed the power, the six souls it held represented between six hundred and perhaps a thousand Life Force. It could consume them for their knowledge only if they survived until it had a new wielder and was in a safe location. 

Unfortunately, denying itself the distraction meant hours of boredom as it watched the half a dozen scavengers get a little closer and then a little further away, lapping at its location like ocean waves. Several times, someone got within ten feet of it, only to get distracted by a ring glinting in the moonlight or a fat coin purse and turn it another way. 

All it could do was lay there, soaking in the death energy and listening to the snippets of conversation that drifted to it on the wind. “Orcs weren’t the terrifying part,” one man said, “I’d fight any amount of orcs over the mages… Fires you could see… all the way from Vandebrooke!”

+9 Life Force.

That was all they talked about, the battle and the loot. The blade didn’t hate them for that, though. It hated them for not picking it up. It wasn’t until almost sunrise that someone even noticed it. 

“What’s that, then?” the older man said, looking at the weapon. “Is that a hexblade? With an orc? An orc with a hexblade. Whoever heard of such a thing.”

The man reached for it several times, but each time, he pulled his hands away. “It’s probably cursed,” he told himself, trying to convince himself not to pick it up. “It’s probably evil orc magic, and even if it ain’t, who in the hell can I sell it to. Only a Lord could afford such a thing and…”

That got the wheels in the gray-haired man’s head turning. The blade could see that much from where it lay. He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn’t quite keep his greed at bay, and now some kind of scheme had clicked, and with trembling fingers, he reached out and tried to pry the blade from Var’gar’s rigor mortis-infused grip. No sooner did his fingers touch the hilt, though, than the blade seized his soul, making him grip it tightly. 

+8 Life Force.

Whether this was a true wielder or simply a convenient way to leave the battlefield, it didn’t know yet. One thing the blade was certain of, though, is that this vermin would not leave it until it decided that it was time.