The daggers started to tremble, shake, and spin, as though they were erupting, and they did with a bright and furiously blinding light. This sent Harold Mastif into a fit of screaming and thrashing to defend him from whatever attack had befallen them.
When they could see again the daggers were in the hands of their new possessor, each had changed slightly; St. Cuthbert's Fist was the least changed it remained an average dagger with a slight white glow and the word Veritas inscribed on the blade. Next was Vikas' dagger which had the glow of the sun and a blade in a classic lightning bolt shape. Adelaster's dagger now had a wooden hilt painted white and boasting a heart shape at the end of the handle, the blade was the stark piercing blue of a calm sea and had just the faintest glow.
Last to open his eyes and marvel at what had appeared in his hand was Harold Mastif, but when he did look he went from screaming in pain to babbling in disbelief. His dagger no longer illuminated but seemed to deluminate, not in an evil way but in dire manner as if a cloud of distilled seriousness had fallen over the group. The group was in a somber mood as thoughts were filled with past sins and wrong doings, guilt creeping into their hearts. Then a stranger thing happened, Harold turned the dagger over in his hand and on this side the blade was white and the shine was faint to the eyes but bright and lifting to the heart, joy was returned where less than a second ago bleak despair was present, it was a liberating feeling. Harold sheathed the dagger instantly returning the atmosphere to normal. Inspecting the handle of the dagger he saw it was a black metal of indistinguishable origin with white leather wrapped around, and the hand guard was a set of golden scales with a gear in the center that seemed functioning.
With trembling lips and a parched and scratchy throat Harold questioned, "What kind a fools magic is this? Which one of ye spiked my drink?"
"Truly, we had nothing to do with this my comrade. However, an explanation of what has transpired is beyond me to give." The monk quietly responded turning to Vikas.
"Fist, I do not think there is a mortal answer for you here." Vikas responded with authority
Adelaster could not stand the talk of divine intervention, for 13 decades she has been forced to hear this, listen to those around her pray the prayers, and see them devote themselves, their children, their entire life to deities who didn't care. With all this bubbling up inside of her she looked at the three confused men and blurted out, " You blithering fools, blind to truth and indoctrinated by men who would have you be as them so that they could use you, stuck to ideals of gods you don't know and drawing lines, making groups and cults, subverting, persecuting, subjugating. This!", she exclaimed, " this is magic, simply magic."
Harold looked aghast turned to face her, pointed his finger in her face then pointed at his dagger and back to the mage, "This was simple magic?" he finally managed to croak.
"Not simple magic, you, king of idiots and blunders. It is difficult indeed, I would not trust the daggers we hold in our hands, someone has bewitched them." She said in all seriousness with the sole intention of Harold fearing for his life whenever he saw his dagger. It worked; Harold unstrapped his dagger from his belt and threw it across the room where it slid to a stop at the foot of the king's statue.
"Enough, we need to rest now Vikas has already had the area secured thanks to the king's statue so we will have no watch tonight. Harold, go retrieve that dagger, and then bury the fire! Vikas can you divine the intention of these four daggers? Adelaster you help if you have the cantrips available to do so. Give me your packs I will organize and take stock of our gear, one of us may have to head to town in the morning to pick up a few things before we can give chase into the underdark."
As St. Cuthbert's Fist barked the orders they were carried out, Harold wrapped the dagger in his cloak so he wouldn't have to touch it and brought it to the cleric and mage, they then preformed spells and rituals, crushing that, mixing this, a few words, and a prayer from Vikas, a puff of smoke, and a whispered incantation from Adelaster. Then they both went quiet and took in all they had done, seeing what others could not, minutes passed as Harold finished with the fire and St. Cuthbert's Fist began repacking the newly separated stocks. Finally, after a short discussion Vikas and Adelaster agreed.
"There is most likely no harm to life or limb" announced Vikas
"And as far as we can tell your sanity should remain intact" added Adelaster
"That is the best you two can do, MOST likely, sanity SHOULD remain intact. And you want me to trust that?"
"It'll be alright Harold. You may treat your dagger as you please, but you will keep accountability of it." Responded Fist. "Now rest, we have an early morning."
Rest they did, each gathered their gear back from Fist and tucked away personal belongings, removed whatever remaining armor they had been wearing and each tucked the new treasure away, in a pack, a belt, under a pillow, or in Harold's case in his hand watching the gear tick and the scales slide up then down again.
