_{by jaymamma.}

 I’m just sitting here looking about my room, which despite its state of disrepair, is better than what I’m used to since my misguided pact was made. I’m questioning offering Droop space in my room, as he stares at me intently from the closet he seems to have taking a liking to. Not one for clothes so I don’t need the closet anyways. I feel bad for the poor thing. I manage a weak smile at him which seems to satisfy him. He curls up on the floor and the sight of him is so pathetic that I can’t help but feel worse. With a sigh I take half my beaver pelts that I made my bed out of and place it down next to him. A few hours later I glance from my inspection of my new staff and he is sprawled out across the pelts snoring lightly with a smile on his face. I can’t help but actually take some joy from his comfort. My patron in her his it’s constant flow of contrary moods has granted me new power, conveniently right before the battle with one hand no staff. I mean as in I took his staff, and also he’s a little lacking under the skirt. I know I checked when the others were searching the other room. It furthers my idea that magic granted to males is at the expense of something else. I just hate wizards, I have yet to meet an actual good one. Good luck ever casting again wizard. Sildar has become a welcome distraction, though he is a bit of a wet noodle in more ways than one. I can tell I scare the crap out of him. He was however a lot more eager the second time around, although I freaked him out a little with the crazy things I can do with my tail. Ha, he hasn’t seen anything yet.

#

I awoke in a cold sweat. Droop was till sleeping contently. I was having a dream almost a chronicle. A chronicle of other hexblades, ones I had met and others that were unfamiliar. Why? Then it hit me the weapons. I had always assumed that there was an endless array of them all shapes and sizes, but no. They were brought into being by those accepting the power. Did I know this before? Did I just figure it out on my own? Was I being shown? The glaive was just the representation of my desire for vengeance and my fixation on that vengeance and the power that came with it after.Had I been limiting myself? I raised my hand and thought for some reason of fishing with my father at the lake many years ago for some reason.The black shadowy energies at my beck took form. In my hand was a fishing net composed of shadows. I thought back again, and again and again. Old memories brought a new form for my weapon. Staves, halberds, shields, and then I remembered something, something from my battle to my near death in Ravenloft. When I slew the dreadlord. Wait was he? He was, a Hex blade. I killed him with his own weapon. It was a, what was it. I could see it on the tip of my brain. It was a perfect mesh of both shadow magic and the wolf’s Bane. Silver. Etched with dark runes. Even though the memory was not clear, a huge seemingly weightless great sword formed in my hand. Weaved of shadow and silver the runes of curses past, and present adorned its edges.. I stood and moved it around first with two hands then to my amazement with just one. I swung it at a dilapidated old chest. Not that the chest was a hard target, the blade despite its weightlessness cleaved through encountering no resistance. A perfect blend of my dark magics and my martial prowess. I was never meant to be either a spell slinging Sorceress, nor a weapon swinging warrior. Both. I was meant to be both a deadly amalagam of shadowy rage and cutting vengeance. I smiled and in the back of my mind a felt another smile. Droop eyed me wearily from his pelts. I flicked my wrist and the sword disappeared. I walked and knelt beside him and patted his head. “It’s ok droop” I told him “you just got a great swords length safer from here on out get some sleep we have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” He nodded, and though he watched me with one eye for many a moment he eventually returned to his previous stupor. I stared at the stars through my ceiling which was the floor to the room upstairs. What was the swords name… CurseBringer