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[Mark Randerstill]

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The serene breeze stirred through his hair. The beach was a ravishing scene for his eyes to survey. No one wandered the city this late at night. He would sit out here, taking in the peace and tranquility of the night.

He slowly lowered himself down, lying on his back. Staring up into the night sky, he studied the star patterns. It was one of the few things he could enjoy as of late. The city was in a rebuilding stage, and no one was around to provide assistance. Artius was nowhere to be seen. Drake avoided responsibility at all costs. Gohan’s only ideas were to kill something. Isk... He laughed at the thought of Isk. All Isk would do is blame the Elves or Drow or something like he always does.

He thought back to the evening. It was his night to walk the city, making sure the streets were safe. Hell, he couldn’t lie to himself; he was the only one who did such things. Isk maybe, but two out of however many members of the Cause was not enough to keep Magincia safe. They had given up on him. He knew it. The only person he could rely on was Isk, and even then, Isk had many other things on his plate.

He laid there for what seemed like hours. Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him. He sat up slowly, and then used his staff to pull himself to a stand. What he saw was an old man.
In one hand, the old man carried a broken down staff, the staff obviously warped due to use, the other hand possessed something wrapped in cloth. The old man held the cloth under his arm. The old man looked up at Mark, a sly smirk slowly forming on his lips.

“Hello there, young man.” The old man said as he examined Mark slowly.

Mark nodded in greeting, his arms folding across his chest. “What brings you here old man? And why out so late? Do you not realize the number of people sleeping at this hour?”

The old man nodded once, and then waved his staff in almost a dismissive manner. “I have come to offer you this once in a lifetime item.”

The old man dropped his staff to the ground, and then slowly began to unwrap the cloth.
Underneath the cloth was a sword of amazing quality. The blade was crafted from a metal black as the night. The moon reflected off of the blade as if the two were meant to be as one. The blade was at least two feet long, perfect as could be. The handle of the sword was of perhaps even higher quality. Rubies, diamonds, sapphires, and citrines all implemented with perfect positioning along the handle, each one resting in its perfect place.

Mark’s hand moved towards the sword’s handle, it looked and felt as if it belonged in his hand. He could swear the sword was calling out to him. He looked up at the old man.
“How much?” he asked, his eyes back to the sword.

“Two hundred thousand gold will get you this specimen. You must hurry though. Another fellow I know had his eye on it. He was offering three hundred thousand, but I would much rather see it go to someone that will love it as much as I do.” The old man replied.

Mark rested his hand on his chin. He had the gold to pay the old man, but such an act would be selfish beyond compare. He hadn’t purchased anything for himself in a while though. Most of his gold was spent on the city and its people. “How did you come about the sword, friend?” Mark asked the old man.

The old man could tell Mark was going to buy the sword. “Ohh my, lad, tis a story to end all stories. It belonged to a king, strong king, who once slayed a thousand orcs with this very blade. The Orcs had taken his queen, so he traveled deep into the caves of Minoc to find a Dwarven smith who could craft the sword, but he could not! Finally, he found an old lich and made a deal with the lich. Crafted from magic they say! Lich made it appear from nothing! Many say it is made of solid Obsidian. Others believe it to be nothing but shadow. Personally.” The old man looked around as if to see if anyone was around. “I believe it be made of the old king’s soul which he gave up to the lich in order to save his queen.”

“An amazing story, friend. Come, let us walk to the bank.”

The old man handed Mark the sword as they walked towards the bank. “It be looking natural in your hand, lad.” They come upon the bank. Mark asked the old man to wait a moment, and then walked inside. He sat at a small table, and scribbled on a piece of paper. He stood then, and walked back out with the old man. “Give this to the banker in the morning, and you will be given your gold. You have my word. Also, here is enough gold to get you a warm meal and a night’s stay in the Inn over there.” Mark said. He handed the old man a bag of gold and a piece of paper and pointed him towards the inn.

“Pleasure doing business with you, lad. Hope you enjoy that sword.” The old man said as he walked off towards the Inn. Mark sat there, staring in awe at the sword. He couldn’t even use it properly, but he felt as if it was fate that brought the sword to him. He walked down the streets of Magincia, swinging the sword around wildly like a neophyte.

He wandered past the bakers. The smell of the first batch of morning bread filled his nostrils. He peeked his head inside. He saw Mario the baker and his wife working hard on the dough for the next batch. “Morning, folks.” Mark said, he leaned against the doorway. His hand was wrapped around the handle of the sword, the sword leaning against his leg with the tip resting on the top of his boot. He saw Mario look up towards him, but instead of the usual smile, Mario had a look of fear in his eyes. Mario pointed to behind Mark, but it was too late.

He felt the sharp, cold pain in his back. Next thing he knew, there was an arm around his neck. He could feel the dagger being pushed and turned into his back. He vomited all over himself as the pain shot through his body. He fell to his knees, his hand still wrapped around the sword handle, refusing to let it go. Then the arm around his neck began to slide over until there was a hand resting on his chin. The hand turned Mark’s head slightly, and then he felt the fangs enter his neck.

Finally, Mario came after the being, swinging his rolling pin wildly at the figure. The figure pulled his teeth out of Mark’s neck, and then licked the blood that was emerging from the wounds. The figure grabbed Mark by the hair with one hand, and grabbed the blade’s handle with the other, pulling it violently out of Mark’s hand. The being looked at Mario, then back down at Mark before letting go of Mark’s head, giving it a gentle push so that he fell face first to the sandstone floor. The figure disappeared as sudden as it had appeared. Mario yelled at his wife to find the healer.

“That was an amazing sword.” Mark though, right before he passed out.
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For Humanity...

[Sadira Reflov]

---

Alizia was with her family in Yew. She was helping take care of a few that had fallen ill. She then saw a pigeon that did not look familiar. As it made its perch on the windowsill Ali had gotten closer to it. She then slowly removed the small parchement and unrolled it to read. Her eyes widen as she turned pale. She looked to her brother Thomas and kissed his cheek.

"I must go now."

She said, flipping through her rune book for the city of Magincia. Thomas looked upon his sister, the look in her eyes he could tell something was the matter.

"if you need me..you know how to reach me."

He said before kissing her cheek. She nodded as she said those three words that whisked her from Yew. She found herself after a moment looking upon the waters lapping along the beaches of Magincia. As fast as her feet would take her, she ran to the healers. Once she entered she looked frantically about for her husband. She saw him finally laying in bed. She ran to him and was quickly on her knees at his bedside.

"Oh love."

Then she heard his wonderful voice as he exclaimed.

"Now what?"

She tried to get information from him..at first he told her he cut himself shaving. After talking abit more, he had Alizia help him up. As he help him sit on the edge of the bed, he informed her to take a step back as he started to push himself off the bed and steadying himself with a walking stick. Ali was poised in a ready stance for when it looked as if he would need her. She then was asked to gate them both home. He informed her he could bleed at home just as easily as he could at the healers. She sighed then reluctantly she casted a gate to their home. Once they got in, he was barely able to make it through the door before having to sit down. Alizia was receiving messages from Isk, whom she had sent word to. She also sent word to Drake, but alas he did not respond. She looks upon her husband to offer him a hand. He shook his head.

"Go upstairs and wait for me."

He said, she then slowly made her way up the stairs. She was keeping in contact with Isk til she saw her husband coming up the stairs. The trip, as she knew, was abit much on him. As she moved to try and assist him to their room, he fell to his knees and hands. The pain was most evident in his facial features as the pulled into a cringe. Anger filled Ali, as she swore to herself that whom ever did this would pay dearly. She went to go help him back up and he shrugged her away.

"I will do it, just go open the door for me."

Now she was getting abit peeved with her husband. Why would he not lean on her like he would that damnable stick. With no words she just turned and did as he asked. He finally made it through the door and then to the bed. She would do nothing but to watch. He then took off his shirt and she saw the bandage better. It needed changed and she mentioned about getting things to change it.

"No change it tomorrow."

He said as he when to slowly lay down.

"Mark that bandage needs changed now."

Her anger keeping bay for the time in her tone.

"And I said change it tomorrow."

He said as he looked at her. He may have noted the slight anger filling her eyes...as well as the love she holds for him.

"I am the healer Mark. You know what is best for the city..I know what is best for the people whom are injured and sick. I almost lost you to some back stabbing fiend and I will not sit here and wait til tomorrow letting some possible infection possibly take you from me. Now I said that thing needs changed NOW and if I have to wait til you are asleep that is what I will do."

She knew the bandage she would put one would be more helpful than what they used at the healers. Mark just rolled over on to his belly and laid his head down.

"Very well as you wish Ali..I am going to sleep and you may do whatever you wish."

With that said his eyes fluttered abit as he started to fall asleep. Another pigeon came to her and she stepped outside slowly. She then recalled to Magincia, she had a few items to pick up for Mark's dressing and she had to meet with Isk.
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"Nature gave man two ears but only one tongue. A gentle reminder that he should listen more than he speaks."

[Isk]

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Isk placed his prize of the night on his work desk and appraised the jawbone from behind his mask. Settling down in his chair he reached a gloved hand within his desk and moved aside his inks to touch a jar red ochre.
“This is what I want” he declared to himself as he separated the ochre from the inks. He was within the house he shared with his wife and three children, the knowledge that his family was just a room away eased his mind as he slowly turned the lid. Thinking of the events of the previous nights he did not realize his gloves were dusted with the dark orange powder until well after he disposed of the lid and took a grainy chunk of the ochre between his index finger and thumb.
Slowly rubbing ochre into the bone he felt the orangish red dust fan against his mask and neck. As his gloves ran along the teeth of the Oblivion worshipper’s jaw he took special interest in the blood effect this produced....

“A vampire, could it be true?” he asked himself, his mind still on what happened earlier as his hands worked on reddening the jaw absent of his mind’s instruction.
“Mark has suffered, that is evident... but who would do this and for what reason?” he shot a stream of cool air from the lips of his mask to send a burst of ochre from the bone only to work more of the chalky powder into it with his gloved hands.
Isk could clearly remember the anger in Alizia’s voice, her desire for revenge. As they spoke of Mark’s condition on the night previous to the Regency meeting he understood the passion she had for her family and husband. Those were emotions he was familiar with, revenge and passion.
“We still have a lot to do” Isk reminded himself as he finally settled the ochre coated jawbone on his desk. “Our Herald will survive to see the Hand of Humanis breathe the breath of regeneration.”
Almost coughing as he took in a sharp breath of dusty air and quickly waved the small cloud of ochre from his mask. These were dark times, he knew this and a part of him feared what the future might hold for the Hand of Humanis’ leadership
“Because if we fail then Sosaria will fail” he now directed his conversation to the jaw.
“Find the sword and you’ve found the attacker” With that simple statement he closed off the most pressing concern he faced and moved on to the next one.
To focus on his second order of business he moved his eyes along the well organized room and rested his attention on a dark blue cape which lay folded into a space on one of his shelves.
“Is Nazralte moving against me?” He kept his eyes fixated on the cloak that once marked Isk as a member of the Moonglow Town Council. “We fought on the same side many times, I thought we had shared a mutual respect... yet he listens to rumours and declares to all that will hear that I am a liar” Isk’s voice took on an underlying tone of bitterness.
“It must be his wife that sets him against me, his wife and his ‘love’ for her and their mixed child” Taking his eyes off the cloak as if he would rather forget the time the two of them fought as partners he instead placed his ochre stained gloves on his porcelain mask and removed it from his face. Turning the mask he gazed at the expressionless visage that stared back at him.
“Do not act against him, see if he will try and salvage your friendship” Isk nodded to his mask after speaking his mind to it and turned to the final pressing matter which occupied his mind.
“The Oracle” Isk almost whispered her name “Azrielle” licking ochre from his lips he basked in the sudden silence of his work having invoked the name of a woman he particularly disliked.
“So do you want to save her Isk?” he asked the question so many must have had on their minds throughout the past few Regency meetings and supplied himself with a simple answer
“It is not what she is for she is a mixed breed that belongs to the elven conspiracy, no... I do this for what she represents to the Regency, a symbol, not a life but a shining object. That is why you undertake this mission.” He widened his eyes. “Yes, the Regency needs me... but not as much as Mark and Humanis needs me”
His concerns having been arranged and his answers plotted out in his mind he turned his attention to what mattered the most, his family.