The Holy Sword

[TheVagabond]

So! I decided to redo "The Holy Sword" start to give it more flavor and make it more interested. I changed the sword to a Meitou Paladin's Cross, and wrote this:

The sun beats down upon you as you trudge through Okran's Valley. Your eyes shift to the horizon all around you, constantly maintaining vigil; you're far from your home of Blister Hill, and far from the protection of the guard.

"Why did I take that loan?" You asked yourself, reliving that moment when that damnable loan shark offered to subsidize your night at the bar. The cards WERE in your favor, you just couldn't afford the buy in at the high table. By the end of the night you lost it all, including your comfy little shack. Now you are out trying to find a haul big enough to get a roof over your head, and some food in your belly.

"The life of a scavenger isn't a noble one, but it lucrative" You say to yourself

It's then you notice the sky ahead is abuzz with the black shapes of scavenger birds circling in the sky. You head in that direction, and after a mile walk you come cross the remains of a large skirmish, bodies littered all over the ground. You make your way through the fetid and bloating corpses of Holy Nation and United Cities soldiers, when you see what must have been where the thickest of the fighting happened. A circle of bodies surrounding two men, well equipped, their equipment glinting in the sun.

"These must have been the commanders" You mumble as you mosey your way over.

Your eye is immediately drawn to the blade held by the Holy Nation commander, it's beauty unequaled by any blade you've seen before. You're drawn to it like a fly to shit, and as you pry it out of the hand of the Paladin, the man drawns breath and reaches his hand out to you, gasping, his face twisted with pain.

"Help. . . Me." The paladin groans. You let out a muffled squeek and drop the sword and look around. He beseeches your aid again before he passes out, his eyes closing and his breath becoming shallow. You snatch the sword up again and give the paladin a cursory glance.

"There is no way you will survive this, I'm sorry. . . but this sword will keep me fed and housed for years. . ." your words fall upon deaf ears, and you decide to high-tail it out of there before anyone else is drawn to this boneyard, gathering up the rest of the blades you'd picked up.

You finally make your way back to Blister Hill, it's late and most respectable shops are closed, but you know for a fact the Shinobi are always available "It might be best to take thes goods to them anyways" You comment under your breath as you pass through the gate.

The Shinobi were of course ready and willing to fence your scavenged loot, appraising all the junk you had, and giving you enough to live for the month. It wasn't until then you produced the Paladin's Cross, sliding it onto the table - the Shinobi's eyes glinting with surprise.

"Where did you get this. . ." The fence asks. You recount the tale, and toward the end he begins shaking his head, looking concerned.

"Take your cats and leave, take that thing as well. Better yet, throw it into the Wend and never think of it again" He waves you away dismissively.

"What, why? This is finest workmanship I've ever seen, why won't you take it?" You plead with him, he more vigorously waving you out, one of the other Shinobi pushes you by the shoulder, guiding you out.

"Someone will know of that blade, and want it back!" The fence calls out from behind you as the door is shut.

Three days pass and you decide to take a stroll out to one of the farms, "A pack bull would be useful the next time I go out" you think.

As you approach the gate, you notice quite the commotion. Being naturally inquisitive, you decide to go check it out, pushing through the crowd and coming to the forefront. There you see, on a stretcher, the Paladin, his sword still sheathed across your back. You freeze, like a river raptor caught in a spot light. His eyes happen to make contact with your's as he speaks to some men surrouding him. He raises his hand and points at you "That's him. . . That is my blade!" He announces.

BUT! I ran out of space. It wouldn't let me type anymore! I was going to go in to detail about his escape and bounty, about how that Paladin turned out to be Holy Lord Phoenix LXII's son, ect.! Trying to figure out if it's possible to make the son an NPC, maybe make him an NPC that tries to hunt you down himself. . . Should probably take that to the modding section though.

[Ocram]

Why don't you use books to give him some sort of personal diary, there are various types that can contain a good amount of text and can be added to its inventory, if the space isn't still enough you could make separate pages.