With a chuckle, Oren lifted the blade, polishing it wish fresh oil and a clean rag from the corner of the workbench. "I have to say Von, despite being green, she's a beauty. Well balanced, sharp, and perfectly etched. Her letters are crips and perfect. You did good work. He added a bit of polish to the pommel, then a bit of oil to the grip examining it closely the whole time. Even the woodwork is exceptional as is the weight. Oddly light for such a long blade. Yes, quite a lovely piece. Anyone would be proud to wield her."
Grimdon growled. "Stop buttering it up. It's a sword, not a woman. It doesn't have feelings, just find out what it does already. Some of us won't live four millennia like you." A round of chuckles filled the air as people realized, it sounded like the elven master was preparing to ask out the sword instead of trying to ask its secret powers of it.
Ignoring Grimdon, Oren whispered to the sword, "Ignore him. He's just jealous that your maker created such a beautiful masterpiece." Finally, the smith began to release his aura into the sword, but a strange thing happened. Instead of pushing back like it did to Grimdon, his aura slid along the sword not entering it at all. He whispered again. "Just one secret?"
As though it heard him, his aura felt a plant affinity coming off the sword. "Well, you definitely have a bit of Chloromancy tucked away in your beautiful self. Any other secrets you'd like to share?" He kept his aura calm and soothing as he continued to examine the sword. A little heat could be felt, which quickly turned hotter. He still couldn't get everything as his aura skimmed around the blade.
The ancient elf finally shook his head before saying, "Well Grim, I think you closed her up. She barely let me know anything at all. A little hint of chloromancy and some sort of pyromantic ability, but that was all. It's possible it's all she has, but didn't you say it tried to poison you earlier, Vorolen?"
The dwarven woman grinned. "I know it was her. I'll give it a try, unless you want to go next, Von."
The boy stood there looking at the three. He couldn't help but wonder at the odd rivalry they were showing and the curious ways they tried to coax knowledge from Marshfang. It had been easy enough with Felinblade. A touch of his aura and everything came out. Of course, his system gave him the exact particulars, but he was able to feel the basics as was Oren. Oren didn't act like this with the dagger. Was it because of the other two?
"No, you are my elder, please, go first, Lady Battlebourne."
Looking at the other two, she said, "See, respect. You should try it." She opened her aura to the sword and let it drift lightly on the sword choosing not to use brute force, not to flirt with it. A new blade could be forced, or coaxed, but sometimes just melding with it slowly was the best. The dwarf sat cross-legged on the floor with the sword across her lap while waiting for the feeling of its abilities to manifest to her aura.
After several moments, she felt the sting of dragon's venom hit her aura. This made complete sense since it was from a swamp dragon. Many such blades could poison their foes several times a day before it couldn't do it for a time, often a day or two, some weaker ones could take a month. She could feel a fit of physical enhancement, but not fully enough to determine strength or endurance. She also wasn't going to run around the street waving a potentially poisonous blade to find out if she could do it longer, or if she was just stronger for using it.
Pausing, she reached out mentally to an old friend. 'Bastian, here is a sword which will need a scabbard.' She sent a mental image of the sword and after a pause remembered the dagger Von created and added a second one to the thought. 'The blades are very sharp, on each, and the sword is venomous, so they should be lined. Something for weightlessness and maybe to hide them would be best. It's for two weapons forged by a young boy.' She looked at Von closely before sending the image of the boy to her friend.
The reply came swiftly, "They will be done by morning, sister." His voice in her head was extremely loud, but it was very possible he was grinding the leather or something or somewhere busy. He could also be near the new threading machine which was noisy but swift. It wasn't as nice as something handstitched, but it made quick work of pushing a needle through leather.
Although she gave the sword more time to get used to her aura surrounding it, it still wasn't giving up its secrets. Taking a note from Oren's book, she started speaking aloud, but in a low voice, she told the sword, "In the morning, you will have a beautiful new scabbard, then you'll be able to travel the world with a companion. Wouldn't you like this?"
After saying this, she had a sudden thought of Von looking over her shoulder but remained stoic in her efforts to allow the green sword to get used to her aura. After sitting for almost two hours while everyone watched impatiently, she decided to stand only to realize she didn't feel stiff nor did her body make its usual cracking and popping noises when she stood.
As the others watched on, Von couldn't help but feel a mixture of curiosity and amusement at the different approaches each of them took in attempting to coax information from Marshfang. Oren's gentle coaxing, Grimdon's blunt demands, and Vorolen's patient observation all offered unique insights into the dynamics of their group and their individual personalities.
As Vorolen sat cross-legged with the sword across her lap, Von couldn't help but admire her calm and methodical approach. There was a sense of wisdom and experience in her actions, a stark contrast to the impulsive nature of his own attempts.
With each passing moment, Von found himself growing more intrigued by the mysterious properties of Marshfang. The notion of a sword imbued with both chloromantic and pyromantic abilities was fascinating, and he couldn't help but wonder about the potential applications of such powers in combat.
She continued to examine Marshfang, and thought to it, 'So it's endurance after all, or may you're just being kind to an old dwarf. Thank you for this secret.' For just a second, she thought she felt a hint of warmth coming from the sword. Von did say it wasn't alive, and as the creator, he should have an idea when it came to such. Maybe it was this feeling Oren felt and he mistook it for pyromancy. Either way, she did learn something. The sword would give endurance to its owner. She was sure of this.
"Well, I learned she provides a hint of endurance to her attuned partner, and she absolutely had a hint of venom within her. Beyond this, she wouldn't give out a clue." She looked back to Von who was eyeing her intently as if trying to learn how she was discovering the weapon's secrets. Of course, everyone else was too.
Turning to Von, the woman stroked her beard and said, "I took the liberty of asking my clansman Bastian at the Wyvern Hide to create a pair of scabbards for the weapons. I don't know if you'll keep them or sell them, but either way, he will make something to match their colors and to make them look like something fit for a king. He said they'd be done in the morning. I can pick them up if you like?"
He was eager to see the scabbards her friend would create for Marshfang and Felinblade. "Thank you, Mistress Vorolen. I'm certain they will be wonderful. I can pick them up, if Oren doesn't mind. I have a few other things I ordered in preparation for Mon and me to leave Sungrove, and I still need to pick them up too." He turned to Oren with a look of hope on his face.
The old elf smiled. "Of course you can stop by. It's not far anyway. You can leave your goods here until we're done tomorrow, or I can have Maggie take them to the Flooded Haven for you and have them placed in your room. They are good people there."
Bowing in reverence to Oren he said, "Thank you, Master Moonrise." Remembering Vorolen's words about being fit for a king, he added, "When I return, could I make a gift for my mom and for King Garrett? I know I can't afford to pay for it, but I would appreciate it if I could. I'm sure they've been worried. My mom, because she's my mom, and King Garret because he was in charge of me when the trolls attacked."
"Aren't you forgetting your current creation?" Asked Grimdon. "It's still waiting to reveal its secrets, and so far, she appears to be a tight-lipped one. Are you gonna give it a go, or just leave us all in suspense?"