Banebringer, part II

"Seize this weary shell,
this tedious life of bane,
before it is too late."

Darkness. Please not more darkness.
The Light has forsaken me...again. Was I dreaming or was this an illusion created by someone who knew? Someone who feared?

First I thought that this was the end. I fell. I felt my powers left me. The shadows came and a sharp blade of madness has been jabbed into my brain.
Death. I awaited it with grace. But somehow I knew even the end of my life could not free my soul and bring me salvation. Too much has happen, too many sins weighed on me. It was not judged to me to rest in peace.
Images flowed through my mind. Memories of which I hoped to be long forgotten and lost. A whirlpool of pain, loneliness and hate overwhelmed me.

Sometimes the shadows of our own imagination can drive us to madness…but sometimes the shadows can become real.

I opened my eyes. Immediately I was stroked by dryness, sand, cold and unbelievable thirst. Was this the mortuary punishment for my deeds? Worse…This was still my life.
It was night. So, finally this difficult journey across the desert took its price. I was half-frozen and near dead from the exhaustion. A night in a desert can be sometimes cold like a winter day in Icewind Dale.

Carefully I tried to move. To my surprise I succeeded. From somewhere behind me I heard a well-known spin of my camel. So at least not everything went wrong today.

Slowly I stood up. My knees ached like hell. I was afraid that this old body was going to break. Water. How could I get the unholy blade when I could hardly move and every moment became weaker and more insane? Could I allow such a triviality like thirst and hunger to defeat me now, so close to immortality?

The camel roared again. I knew what to do. It would not be the first time I ate camel flesh or drank blood to survive. Actually camel meat tastes quite the same as coarse beef…with a little imagination naturally.

I draw my short sword. Some time ago it was a fine blade with some magic enchantments. Now the edge was full of teeth and it was beginning to rust a little.
Slowly and very carefully I approached the camel. It was standing a few steps in front of me and just staring nowhere. I wonder if she knew what will come. I took down the tackle and my bags from her back. From one sack I took up a clay bowl and placed it on the ground.
A moment later one quick cut through neck ended the camel's life. She dashed in the sand with oily roaring and spit blood. I was waiting a few seconds until she stopped moving and I placed carefully the clay bowl under the bleeding wound. The warm fluid filled the basin.
If you are dying from the thirst your senses are blunted a bit and because of that you can drink almost everything without gagging it at once. I must admit the blood tasted not that bad…it was a little sweet with a small metallic smack.

After the satisfaction of the greatest need I began to cut the camel's flesh to smaller pieces and eat them mindless. I could not make fire to roast the meat. I used up the last magic Wand of Fire days ago.

Unwilling my thoughts wandered again to the sword. More than fifteen miles divided us but already I could feel his power. It was like a calling. I could hear it from last night. First I thought it was just a hallucination but now I changed my mind. It was strong and there was also something else, something what didn't belong to the Banebringer's wave of might.

The Guardians.

There was only little known about them. Legends, sometimes only scrappy mentions of their names but every time spoken with fear.
Three damned souls bounded to the sword for eternity. It is said that when the Scarred One left this plane of existence to seek a new destiny, the First gods unable to destroy the blade tried to curse it but their spell could not break the sword's unholy essence. So to serve the Balance those fools decided to hide and to protect it. One from them found a way to manipulate the pure energy around it and he bound the spirits of three chosen sentinels to the field. But something mismatched. The blade's power corrupted the souls and changed them. They no longer served the gods but only the sword. What happened then is not known. The sword travelled from place to place for whole eons and in the end it was forgotten.
The Guardians stayed with the blade however.Their names chasing fear even today.

Strife, Bloodthirst and Agony…

I had enough of the raw camel meat. I looked on the remains with pity. Now I have to continue on my own feet. I began to wrap myself to a blanket. It will be a long night…