(A few hours before the twin's encounter with Vaeril)
Darius and Montagor had made their way through the village to the craftsmen section they passed the previous day. They heard the sounds of the many forges before they saw them. There was a large tree that had been hollowed out with a huge opening that housed the tailors, fletchers, and other artisans. The blacksmiths had their own designated areas on the massive platform in front of the tree. The odd pair passed several blacksmiths, gaining friendly nods from some, and strange looks of confusion from the others.
They finally got to the stall Montagor seemed to be headed for. It was slightly larger than the others, having the main forge and anvil on the side of a large stall full of weapons. There was a large building connected to the back of the stall with a few windows and a single door that hung ajar. When it came to weapons, the elves weren't much for variety so much as they preferred quality. There were rows of bows, daggers, short swords, longswords, and great swords lining the walls and the racks of the stall. All of the blades were single edged, with some being straight, and others curving to some degree. While most were simple yet beautiful, many were inlaid with ornate golden designs that dazzled the eyes. Some of them seemed to emit a soft glow, marking them as magic weapons.
As they approached the stall, an axe seemed to appear from no where and land inches from Montagor's feet. Darius was the only one that seemed to react, as Montagor only looked at it and smiled. "Someone's in a good mood today." "Good mood? They threw an axe at you." "Yes, but normally she'd throw it at my head and I'd have to stop it with magic. She threw it at my feet today, so she's in a good mood." "I'm worried about how solid that logic is. Wait she?" As he spoke an angry elven woman appeared from behind the stall. She was gorgeous. She had the long white hair they all had tied back in a long ponytail that went straight down her back. Her bright green eyes seemed to glow as she moved. She was wearing a sleeveless white shirt with leather pants and a leather apron that did nothing to hide her massive chest. That was the first thing Darius noticed, and would have continued to be distracted by if it wasn't for the fact that she was ripped. Her arms made Montagor's look like twigs.
This wasn't exactly the sexy elven seductress Darius was expecting, but it was a start. She didn't seem to notice him as she rushed towards Montagor, picked up her axe, and grabbed the neck of his tunic. "Montagor. Always a pleasure. Here to ask for another favor I assume?" Montagor smiled sheepishly and responded with his hands up, "Syndra, you're looking more beautiful than ever. Did you do something with your hair?" She raised her axe higher into the air. "You didn't answer my question." "Look, I did come to ask a favor, but I'm paying you this time." She eyed him to see if he was serious. He tried and failed to look innocent.
She released him and lowered her axe ever so slightly. "What's this favor?" Montagor explained the situation up til now and gestured towards Darius. "He needs armor and a sword for his travels. Being a human, his frame is a bit larger than ours. I was hoping whatever we buy you can custom fit it for him. And I'll also need a few sets of arrows for Faelar." "So you want me to arm an unknown human, thats likely going to be wanted by the council, with my weapons and armor?" "Well when you put it like that it sounds illegal." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Montagor I swear one day you'll be the death of me. Fine. What type of armor is he looking for?"
Darius figured he'd step in when it came to his supplies. "I'd prefer something light yet sturdy for armor. And a long sword would be nice, if I could test a few out." Both the elves gave him stunned looks. "Did I say something wrong?" Montagor spoke first. "You speak Elvish?" "What do you mean? You both sounded like you were speaking the same language as me." "No, she spoke to me in Elvish. We've both been speaking it since she first approached us." Darius watched his mouth as he spoke this time. His lips weren't forming the words he was hearing. He definitely wasn't speaking English. "Well I guess I speak Elvish." Syndra who just seemed to notice him for the first time looked at him with respect. "It's rare to meet a human that speaks our tongue. Well met. I'll gladly help you find whatever you need. Feel free to browse my weapons. I'll go get some armor from the back. Montagor, you're going to help me bring it out." He put up his finger to object then thought better and followed her into the back.
Darius busied himself looking for a sword. While he was browsing he figured he'd ask the one person who might know how he now speaks Elvish. Yo Raiga. Care to explain how I learned a new language in one day? Raiga seemed annoyed that he'd been asked the question. I told you you're picking up traits from me. We dragons originally taught you humans how to speak. We speak all languages. I only need to hear a new one spoken to understand it, and now so do you. It's as simple as that. Darius stopped with a random sword in his hand. He thought about how useful such an ability would have been during his deployments to various countries across the globe. Then he looked down and realized the gem he was holding.
It was an ornate elven scimitar. It had no guard. The curved handle was black. The hilt was the same golden color as the leaf stem like design that snaked its way across the entire blade. The blade itself was a flawless silver color that branched into two small points away from the main blade at different spots like a bolt of lightning. It was razor sharp and he could see his reflection in the blade. He made his decision instantly.
Syndra noticed him holding the blade as her and Montagor brought out the final set of armor. "You have a good eye, but I can't sell you that." "If it's not for sale, how'd it get in your stall." "That's part of the reason I can't sell it to you. It's cursed." "Cursed?" Little did she know, she only piqued his interest even more. "Yes it's cursed. I had it locked away in my home. I have no idea how it came to be here." "So it's possessed by something?" "No. More like it's alive." That pretty much cemented the fact that he had to have this sword. "It's alive?" "Yes and no."
She didn't seem like she was going to explain so Darius dug further. "You want to explain a little?" "Not really. It's a rather long and complicated story." Montagor sat leaning against the stall chuckling to himself at Darius's futile attempts to sway Syndra. If there was one thing he knew, it was that she couldn't be convinced to do anything she didn't want to do. She was the most stubborn woman he'd ever met. "I can't accept no for an answer. I can't explain it, but it's like I'm being drawn to it. I have to know why." Seeing that the sword somehow made its way to this human after centuries of remaining locked in her home, she relented. "Ok. I guess I'll tell you." Montagor's soft chuckling stopped due to his jaw now hanging open in shock.
"This sword isn't one of my creation. It's ancient. It was created by my ancestor. His name was Silvyr. He was a legendary blacksmith, and this was his greatest work. As he had gone as far as he could with his raw skill alone, he wanted something to enhance his work even more. He wanted the ultimate blade of destruction, one that could cut through anything. To craft it, he needed equally destructive material. He settled on lightning, being the most destructive force in nature, as his best choice. That's what he made this sword from."
Now it was Darius's turn to be in shock. "Your ancestor, made a sword from lightning? How is that possible?"
"I was getting to that."
"Sorry."
"To accomplish this, he studied magic. After gaining all the knowledge needed, he created a variation of the control water spelled named control lightning. He used it and a transmutation spell on a bolt of lightning during a storm to craft what you see before you now. The spell wouldn't last forever though, so he sought the help of the dwarves. They are the only ones capable of enchanting weapons and armor. The golden stemlike markings snaking their way across the blade are their work, and a symbol of their respect for a master elven blacksmith. Those enchanted markings made the spell permanent."
After hearing the story behind how the sword was made, Darius was blown away. He also understood why he felt drawn to the sword, and why he had to have it. What he didn't understand, was the curse. "That's an incredible story, but you never said how it's cursed." Syndra sighed and explained further. "It's not actually cursed. I just say that so I don't have to go into the backstory that I just told you."
"Then what's actually wrong with it?" "The easiest way I can explain it is this, lightning embodies the wildest aspect of nature. As such, it's very hard to control. The sword itself is physically flawless, but it retains those aspects of wild uncontrollability. It moves where it wants, as a bolt of lightning does. You can see how this would be dangerous for a swordsmen, when his sword can't be controlled." Darius began to laugh loudly, drawing in looks from the surrounding stalls.
Puzzled by his outburst, Syndra asked,
"What's so funny?" "Nothing. It's just that this sword seems to have been made for me." More puzzled then before, she looked at Montagor for answers. He didn't notice as he was still trying to figure out how she had been so easily swayed by someone other than her daughter. Seeing that he was no help she turned back to Darius and asked him to explain. "It's pretty simple. I can bend lightning to my will." He held the sword sideways in front himself. He looked at her and simply dropped it. To her surprise, the blade never hit the ground. It stopped and floated level with his waist.
He pointed at it, and began moving it with his finger. It spun, flipped, and twirled all around the stall until he flicked his finger and it landed deftly back in his hand. Again, Syndra was stunned. What he had done was impossible. The sword was controlled perfectly with his mind, while others hadn't even been able to control it with their own hands. She had to admit, he might have been right. The sword seemed to obey him like no one she'd ever seen. "The sword is yours."
"Thank you. How much is it gonna cost? I can find a way to pay you back in the invent it's too expensive." She handed him its scabbard. "I said the sword is yours. No one has ever been able to tame it. You seem to be the exception. As a blacksmith, it would go against everything I stand for to see such a masterpiece forever go unused. Take it with my blessing." He gave his thanks and promised to never misuse it. "By the way, since it was never owned, it doesn't have a name. All good weapons must have a proper name." "I'll call it Fulgur." "Then from now on I and everyone else shall know it as such. Now for your armor." She gestured him over to the armor that was setting in front of the storage building.
"You said light yet sturdy. This is Mythril chain mail. It's the definition of light yet sturdy. You've also got these black dragon leather pants plated with adamantite on the thighs and shins. And last but not least, this black coat lined with direwolf fur to combat the rather chilly weather up here so close to the clouds." "I'll take it." "Good. Now the price will be 2000 gold pieces." Montagor fell to his knees. "That's extortion, high way robbery." She turned to him with an evil grin. "What do you mean? I'm the best smith in Nellenor. Such fine work from such a fine and beautiful craftswoman deserves proper compensation." Montagor pleaded with his eyes and her eyes seem to fill with dark delight. "Fine. I figured you'd overcharge so I brought more than I thought I'd need. He produced and handed Syndra her pay with a sad look in his eyes. Darius tried to speak, but was silenced by Montagor. "Debts must be paid."
As Darius went into the storage room to equip his new gear, another beautiful elven girl came sprinting in Montagor's direction. She looked very similar to her mother, except for her smaller physique and bright purple eyes. She shouted at Syndra. "Mother!" Syndra was about to greet her daughter before she was cut off. "I need travel supplies quick!" "Why?" She arrived and turned to Montagor. "Fenris and Faelar have been imprisoned." Montagor's expression flipped like a switch. "Tell me everything." She explained that her grandfather had told her everything that happened, and then told her to tell Montagor.
The anger seemed to leave Montagor after the mention of the girl's grandfather. He looked in the direction of the council tree and spoke softly to himself, "Vaeril, old friend, what would I do without you?" Darius then came out fully outfitted in his new gear. His sword, attached to the belt on his coat, hung at the back of his waist. "What's with the change in atmosphere?" Montagor spoke without changing his gaze, "My grandsons have been imprisoned by the council." Darius didn't hesitate with his next words. "Guess that means it's time for a prison break."