The Return of Blade

[Blade]

Blade was rather tired and feeling rather human. He did not understand how a Talruum could feel human but then again he didn't really know what it was like to be human.

He was a master of the blade. The Sabre was his best weapon, yet he kept having these dreams of a human using a talruum sabre proficiently. It worried him that the Taalruum may not be the masters of the blade they had claimed to be for so many years.

The stress of the clean up of the massacre had finally taken its toll on Blade. The rogue Taalruum had finally been annihilated but so had many of the humans.

The rogues that remained alive during the massacre of the humans are all under the mark of death. Until their time comes to die, the Taalruum society has been very watchful of them to ensure that each and every rogue leads a very solitary life.

The two dead rogues were mourned in the respectful way as was customary among the Taalruum.

The clean up of the humans was another matter. With the troubles over, the remaining humans of Nova Zemblar wanted nothing more to do with their dead.

The united Taalruum clans had another job to do. They had to clean up the human debris. There were too many to cart away and do the respectful thing for and they were obligated to stop a pestilence from spreading.

The Taalruum were forced to cut down many of their mountain trees and surrounding trees from the forest. The trees were used as a pyre for the dead humans. The stench from such a fire was great but the sacrifice was much greater for the Taalruum. There mountainside peaceful homes had virtually been destroyed and they were forced to flee their peaceful villages. They no longer had the shelter and protection that the trees offered around their mountainside.

Blade had remained a victim of his preacher syndrome and had moved into the town. His human speech had steadily improved by living amongst humans but his clan no longer rejected him although he had no idea where they had fled to but he knew he could track them if he had to.

Living in the town, Blade still attracted the prejudice of many of the townsfolk but most were friendly to him.

The stress of everything that happened to him over the last few months had gotten to him. He sat in a tavern, contemplating over an ale, what he was to do.

Blade's actions weren't conscious but soon he found himself idly handling a thin circle of crystal that was hanging about his neck. Blade may be unusual for a Taalruum but it is just as unusual for the Taalruum to wear jewellery of any kind.

Blade looked down at the crystal pendant around his neck, realising what he was doing for the first time. He saw the mold of the colors white, red, green and blue. Tears welled in the eyes of the middling Taalruum. He walked silently and solemnly from the bar as he remembered this was the Pendant of the Magi and a gift from the Swordsman Naekos Servaya.

[Blade]

Blade walked out from Nova Zemblar and walked aimlessly. He walked on and on.

Blade was rather vague about where he was heading and what he was doing. Much was going on around him, in the Russic empire and in Russland but he took little notice.

He walked on and on.

Blade did not see the Russ forces amassing as he passed. He did not see the rogue taalruum fighting amongst themselves. He cared little.

He walked on and on.

Blade felt sorrow and grief. As far as his preacher syndrome went, he considered the Taalruum dead. Sure, Blade admits to himself, many taalruum live, but the taalruum as a society have died.

He walked on and on.

Blade found him plodding down a track to what he now knew as a lake or a sea or something of that description. Blade does not know what took place next but he finds himself beyond the borders of Russland and finds himself heading towards Arconia where he once found a young halfling by the name of The Swordsman Naekos Servaya.

He walked on and on.

[Blade]

Blade found himself in a strange city.

He sniffed the air. The sights he did not recognise, but the smell of this city was familiar.

Blade had travelled far in his recent journeys. Slowly the memory of this large city came back to him.

Humans

Blade saw filthy human children playing in the dirt and grime of the city streets. He saw gangs of humans looking suspicious but all humans looked suspicious to Blade. It was the port city of Nova Felya.

It was just a little after dawn and the hustle and bustle of the port city was just beginning.

After a while Blade found the portmaster staring at him from some great distance.

Blade still unaccustomed with human ways stared back. The portmaster shook his head and walked away.

Blade, the Taalruum, was an ungodly sight for most humans. For that matter most Taalruum, were treated as pests, beasts, treated with disrespect.

Blade's future however was different.

The unkempt Blade stowed himself away on a ship bound for the kingdom of Arconia's continent.

Blade had crossed the mountains and plains of Nova Zemblar and was on his way to find Naekos Servaya, the Swordsman.

[Blade]

Finally, Blade has arrived at the Kingdom of Arconia.

Blade happened upon no adventures on the way. Even if he had, the outcome would have no doubt be in his favour.

In the short time Blade spent in Arconia, he had memorised every street, tree and speck of grass. Blade soon found his way pass the Bitter End and down to the cottage of the Swordsman Naekos Servaya.

Blade grunted.

Blade was unhappy that the Swordsman never put up any security. Blade thought this very dangerous for a commander of a strike force.

Blade forced that thought away. That was a warrior's thought. That was a human's thought. That was not a Taalruum thought.

Blade touched the pendant that hung around his neck and knocked on the cottage door thrice.

There was no answer.

Blade unclasped the colourful pendant from his neck and nailed it to the door.
Blade then marked the door with some Taalruum runes

/\ ----
/o \ | A |
---- ----
Loosely translated they meant adventures of my own.

Blade left the Swordsman's and touched his naked neck where the pendant had hung for many months. It was a solemn gesture.

Blade had no better thought, so he headed for The Bitter End.