The Tale of the Legendary Weapon, Soul Edge
As told by Bard Bosun Bones at the Fairweather Tavern
Know this, all ye who listen; these whispered tales of a sword that can cut the very heavens asunder are true! This "Soul Edge" exists! Many have tried to possess this legendary weapon, but all have fallen to a horrible fate. That blade is cursed, as sure as I sit here! Yet, warriors from around the globe seek the blade for their own desires. For some, Soul Edge is their key to salvation; for others, their route to damnation. But none of them will back down without a fight! Only the stout of heart and strong of arm can survive the quest for Soul Edge...but be warned! They say to hold Soul Edge is to possess true power...but, ye cannot hold on to it, and your own soul, at the same time! Vercci, the Italian weapon merchant, sought out the blade, and ye all know of his grisly end! Heed my warning...and seek not Soul Edge!
---
After the discovery of the new world, Europe entered an era of trade, art, and wars, driven by colonization and conquest. The merchants of this time could not have been happier, for they were making a fortune from this new era.
One such Italian merchant dealt with the invincible Spanish Armada, and grew rich from supplying them with weapons. This merchant was named Vercci. He was famous for his enormous fortune, as well as his ruthlessness, the latter of which eventually earned him the nickname, "The Merchant of Death."
Vercci heard the whispered rumors of "an object that would satisfy every earthly desire." He started a scheme to find this mystical weapon. Vercci invited his younger brothers to help him search, but they knew the evils of Soul Edge, and opposed his plan. It is strange how quickly they were recruited into the army, and consequently out of his way. He promoted his right-hand man, Voldo, to lead the search, instead.
Vercci used every means necessary to track down Soul Edge. Mercenary armies searched the land for him, and when that didn't work, cut-throats and pirates scoured the seven seas; but all to no avail. Growing furious, Vercci decided to lead the search himself, and took his fleet to sea.
He took his fleet around the Cape of Good Hope, and headed east. Along the way, he acquired rare and exotic arms and riches at Easter ports. Then, he received disturbing news - in his homeland of Italy, war had broken out between the two great powers. It was the beginning of what was later known as the infamous Italian Wars.
Now that the flames of war were scouring the politically unstable Italy, to return there would be suicide. Vercci even received word that his home had been seized and destroyed. All his wealth was gone. All he had left was his fleet and their treasures. His anger turned into insanity.
In his madness, Vercci decided to bury his treasure so that, even after his death, no one could ever have it. Vercci and his fleet sailed to an uninhabited island. His crew dug a massive pit. A vault, guarded with deadly traps, housed Vercci's remaining treasure and weapons. Voldo then executed the crew, lest they give away the vault's location. Ever loyal, he agreed to be sealed alive inside the vault to protect the treasure.
Ironically, by the time the vault was finished and sealed, the Italian Wars had ceased. But Vercci never made it back to Italy alive.
The decades Voldo spent alone in the pit caused him to become blind, insane, and even forget his own name. All he knew was that his only reason for being was to guard Vercci's secret treasury. And, after all those lonely years, only one of Voldo's talents remained keen - his talent for murder - and, although many thieves attempted to rob the pit over the years, none of them ever exited the pit alive.
And, the ghostly voice of the long-dead Vercci still rings in Voldo's ears...
"Voldo, protect my treasure!"
---
As Tira awoke, she felt a wave of pain wash over her body. Ow...What happened? She looked around at where she was. She seemed to be in a cave. There were a few torches lining the walls that allowed her to see. She was lying down on something - but what was it? She got up, turned around, and looked down at -
A pile of corpses!
Tira gave a small yelp and leapt backwards. She had seen her share of corpses, but the thought of lying on a whole pile of them and not knowing it thoroughly creeped her out.
Tira tried to remember where she was, and how she got there. The last thing she remembered was falling...that was because she had accidentally triggered a trap that opened up a hole in the floor...that was because she had volunteered to walk ahead of Siegfried and Ivy to look for traps...and that was because the Money Pit was infamously rigged with traps! That's it, they had been exploring the Money Pit!
Her memory restored, Tira's mind turned to a different question. How did I survive that fall? It doesn't seem like anyone could have lived through such a drop. She looked down at the corpses again. ...Oh, right. They probably broke my fall. The deaths of so many at the hands of this trap inadvertently led to my surviving this trap...how ironic. And sad. They had to die so that I could live...
Tira's concentration on the matter was broken by the sound of shuffling footsteps behind her. She whirled around, and saw that someone was approaching. She reached for her ringblade, but found that she did not have it. She looked frantically to the left and right, and located it lying a few feet away. She quickly picked it up, and then turned to see who was coming towards her.
It was a man, but his appearance was so bizarre, Tira at first wondered if he was a monster. His skin was pasty and pale - an unsightly grey in color. Several purple straps ran across his head, covering his eyes and mouth. The purple wear extended down his neck to his chest, where it parted to form a gap with more belt buckle-like straps. He wore more purple clothing on his arms and legs, as well as an orange-colored mesh beneath that, but was surprisingly less clothed in areas that one usually is sure to clothe oneself. An uncomfortable-looking crotch guard was strapped where his legs parted, and his rear was relatively under-clothed, as well. Tira found herself wondering if the man's clothing was supposed to be of a sexual nature - not that she found it anything other than repulsive.
In his hands, the man held two large katars. Katars were weapons that Tira did not have much experience dealing with, and she tried to remember what she had learned about them. They were daggers with horizontal hand grips, which resulted in the blade of the sword sitting above the user's knuckles. To stab an opponent, one would have to punch, instead of swing, unlike when using a regular knife or dagger. This would lead to an acrobatic fighting style, much like Tira's own style. The katar seemed more like an extension of the fist than a dagger, and thus Tira knew that, if she were to battle this man, he would definitely attack more than defend.
The man moved in an extremely odd way. He 'slithered' his entire body as he moved forward, and seemed to move more like a snake than a human. Tira was disturbed by this odd way of walking, almost more than she was disturbed by his clothing.
Finally, the man came to a stop several feet away from her, but his odd movements did not seem to cease.
"...Hs...Hsssss..."
It sounded like the man had tried to say something, but, either due to the purple strap binding his mouth, or perhaps another factor, his speech came out as a disgusting-sounding hiss, and as he spoke, or tried to, saliva dripped from his mouth. However, as disturbed as Tira was to hear and see this man's pathetic attempt at speech, she was even more surprised to learn that she could actually understand him. His muffled speech meant nothing to her, but she could tell the intentions behind his hissing.
Since she was a young child, and being trained to become an assassin, she'd been taught to study her opponent's facial expressions and body movements to determine everything from their next move in combat, to their intentions, to their deepest emotions. This was not a supernatural power; the ability to read your opponent is something any warrior would value, and a skill that many seek to possess. Tira, however, was exceptional in that she had refined this skill to a level that few others have also reached, allowing her to read the thoughts and intentions of people very easily. However, it was not this ability alone which allowed Tira to understand him.
Tira shared a connection with this man. She was a slave, and so was he; and both of them were slaves of an extraordinary magnitude. Although they had only met, this connection existed, and was very strong. This deep bond between them was the majority of the reason that Tira could understand this man when he 'spoke'.
The man's earlier hiss had been an expression of surprise at her surviving the fall, followed by simply stating that he had to kill her. 'Had' to, as if it were his obligation, or occupation. Tira understood fully that this man intended to attack her, but she was far too intrigued by meeting someone so much like herself to fight him just yet. She wanted to speak to this man, even if only briefly.
"Who are you?" She inquired. She did not have fear or concern in her voice; only curiosity. The man hesitated after hearing her words. Eventually, however, he spoke.
I am the Slave of Vercci.
"I am the Slave of Siegfried."
Well met, Slave of Siegfried.
"Well met, Slave of Vercci."
I see that you and I share a deep bond. I find that intriguing.
"As do I."
My Master's will is that I protect this pit. I cannot allow you to be here. You must leave now.
"My Master's will is that I search this pit."
The man nodded sincerely. I understand. Our Masters' orders contradict each other, and a compromise is impossible. I understand if you refuse to leave. However, although I respect that you are following your Master's orders, I cannot disobey my own Master.
"I understand this, as well."
Are we to fight, then, Slave of Siegfried?
"I am afraid that we are, Slave of Vercci. It is regrettable."
It is indeed regrettable. I fear you may be the only other person like me in the entire world. It was reassuring to know that there was someone else like myself. It will be lonely after you are dead.
"Oh, don't worry. I will survive this encounter."
We have spoken much, but done nothing. Let our actions speak for us from now on.
Suddenly, the single blades on of the man's katars split into three blades each. Fascinating. A mechanism for making the blades split. Sticking those blades into someone and then splitting them would slice their insides...I doubt that this man is a novice.
The man assumed his fighting stance - one of slithering movements. Tira had seen dozens of fighting styles, but never one like this. She inferred that it was a self-taught style, and tried to prepare for the unexpected, but it was difficult to do such a thing.
Surprisingly, the first thing the man did was fall straight to the ground. He lay in a crouching position, and then suddenly leapt forwards, doing a front flip. Tira leapt back, and only barely avoided this surprising attack. The man landed on his back, but did not seem as if this had been unintentional. He rose up by planting his katars and feet on the ground and then pushing upwards, bringing himself back to a standing position. Tira knew, by now, that she was definitely dealing with a one-of-a-kind fighting style.
Her surprise almost cost her life, for in the next moment, the man followed up with another surprising and bizarre attack. He fell forward again, this time planting his katar into the ground, and performing a one-handed handstand, balacing on just the katar. He shot out his feet and other arm, and Tira once again was only just barely able to react in time and dodge.
The man swung his katars in an arc above his head, and hissed. This action seemed more ritualistic or symbolic than an actual attack, only increasing Tira's confusion further. His tactic is to use surprise and confusion to get the upper hand on his enemy. Expect everything to be an attack, no matter how bizarre, and stay out of close range until a good opportunity arises. Tira knew that this would mean letting the man attack her for a long time before a window for attack finally appeared, and that this would mean a lot of chances for him to strike her if she did not dodge fast enough. However, Tira currently saw no other option.
The man hissed and began another odd gait forward, walking with his hips sticking out forward and his back and head arching back. He slashed his katars in an X-shaped path twice, and Tira dodged both swings. At this point, the man slowed down, and eyed Tira. At least, he seemed to be eying her up, despite his eyes being covered. After a moment, he seemed to have reached a conclusion on something. Has he decided to use a different tactic? Great...that throws everything out the window!
The man then flipped forward to do a handstand. When he brought his legs down, he did not raise himself upwards again. Instead, he stayed in this position, with his hands and feet on the ground and the front of his body facing upwards...and began to walk!
He moved much faster than Tira would have anticipated, and she backed up again. However, she had backed up too far, and was now against a wall. The man was still rushing straight towards her, and she couldn't go around him. What to do?
Finally, at the last moment, she leapt forward, flying straight over the man. He flipped over, righting himself, and sliced his katars through the air, missing her by centimeters.
The man turned around, and leapt towards her, his katars behind his back. No surprises here, it was a blind rushing attack. Was this the opportunity she had waited for? Tira didn't want to take any more chances. She swung out her ringblade to defect the man's ensuing attack.
Surprisingly, the man did not attack at all the way she had planned. After he landed before her, katars still behind his back, he thrust them forward from behind his sides, instead of swinging them downwards like she had planned, straight through the hole in the middle of her ringblade!
That's right! Thrusting instead of swinging! Stupid mistake!
But although the man might have been able to kill Tira right then and there, his current intention was merely to disarm her. He spread his arms apart, scraping his katars along the inside of her ringblade. He then moved his katars along the inner ring, toward her hands!
Tira could afford to lose her weapon, but not her hands. She let go, and tried to perform a kick, but the man lowered the ringblade while still holding it with his katars, and blocked her blow! He then shoved it at her, and the flat side of the blade slammed into her hard, and knocked her down. The man leapt on her faster than she could realize what was going on.
He reared his arm back and prepared to thrust it forward into Tira's head. She gasped in terror. But, when the katar came down, it sliced not into flesh, but into the ground where Tira's head had been one moment ago. She was pinned down, but she could still wriggle her upper body to the left and right. The man made another stabbing attempt, and Tira dodged again.
The man decided to thrust using both Katars this time, and with them spread out at a certain distance, there was no possible way for Tira to dodge. However, without one hand planted on the ground like he'd had before, the man had to raise himself up slightly with his legs. Tira saw an opportunity. It was the last thing in the world she wanted to do, but...
Tira grabbed a hold of the man's thighs, and pulled herself through the gap in between his legs, dodging the two katars that missed her by inches. She got to her feet and leapt for her ringblade, dodging a katar slash from the man as she did so. Once she had her ringblade in hand, she had even more blows to block.
Just as Tira was nearly too exhausted to fight any longer, the man assumed a new stance. He planted his katars flat on the ground, put one foot on the ground behind him, and held the other up high in the air. He hopped from left to right in this stance, and as bizarre as it was, it had its advantages.
However, it also had one very large disadvantage that Tira could see.
As the man hopped towards her, she leapt forward, held her ringblade perpendicular to the ground, and swung it downwards in an arc. It sliced into the man's hands.
The man hissed in pain, and fell over, no longer to support himself on his injured hands. He also let go of his katars. Tira leapt forward and delivered a kick to his chest, sending him flying backward and landing in a corner. He sat limp, and did not move. Tira walked towards him, and he turned his head towards her. The two stared at one another in silence for a moment, and then the man suddenly shot out his arms and legs.
Tira shoved her ringblade forward, the flat part of the blade blocking the man's arms and legs, and pinning him down in the corner. The two of them struggled, until the man seemed to stop. But he had just one last weapon left in his arsenal.
He delivered an extremely strong pelvic thrust that went through the gap of Tira's ringblade, and jabbed her in the stomach.
Tira was knocked back out of both the force of the blow and the nature of it, but not enough to allow the man to break free. He continued his pelvic attack, slamming the crotch guard into Tira's stomach.
...Only my Master is allowed to do that to me!
Tira moved back, swung her ringblade back, and then brought the flat part of the blade slamming into the side of the man's face.
With another painful hiss, he now fell limp again.
Tira backed up, and panted and heaved heavily, holding the wound at her stomach.
...Are you going to finish me?
"...No."
Why not?
"I am forbidden to kill."
Your Master's orders?
"...Not directly. But I know it would displease him if I killed."
The man nodded. I see. You are a good slave.
Tira had never heard such praise before. "...Thank you. ...Although the one I wanted to hear that from was my Master..."
...I, on the other hand, am a terrible slave. I have just failed my Master. Now the sanctity of the vault will be violated...
"We only came searching for information about Soul Edge."
Information...? Not...the treasure?
"No, not the treasure."
The man was still for a moment, and then he suddenly began heaving. Tira realized that this was laughter.
"What's so funny?"
...Nothing...nothing, Slave of Siegfried.
She paused for a moment. "...There is another reason I'm not killing you."
Why is that?
"...I feel the same way you do. That would it be lonely if you were dead."
---
Siegfried, Tira, and Ivy located Vercci's records, and poured over them. However, they were dismayed to find that all of the records were extremely old, and held no information about Soul Edge that they did not already know. Their disappointment was overwhelming.
"We'd need the help of the gods themselves to destroy Soul Edge..." Ivy muttered to herself.
"...The gods...That's it. The gods." Siegfried said.
"What? ...Don't tell me you're so desperate that you're ready to resort to prayer...?"
"If a weapon stronger than Soul Edge currently doesn't exist, we'll simply have to create a stronger one."
"But how in the world are we supposed to do that? And what does that have to do with gods?"
"I know of a temple to Hephaestus, the Greek god of blacksmithing, weaponry, and fire...perhaps it could be possible to ask him to forge us a weapon with which to destroy Soul Edge! A weapon forged from the gods themselves could surely destroy that cursed blade!"
"What makes you think a god will listen to you? What makes you think that this god even exists?"
"If there is a chance, even a slight one, that we could obtain a weapon stronger than Soul Edge this way, we have to try."