Artist: Brendan Olszowy
Email: brendan@fableblades.com
Benger, Western Australia 6223
Mobile (Australia): 0411 470 663
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Artist: Brendan Olszowy Email: brendan@fableblades.com Benger, Western Australia 6223 Mobile (Australia): 0411 470 663 |
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Bastard Sword: |
Two Handed Sword: |
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The tale of Zhiadau Razuur (by B. Cook) Zhiadau Razuur or Shadow Razor. It's not the sword's actual name, but what it has come to be known as more for the way it sounds when spoken. It's meaning is unclear as there have been none who speak the Ancient tongue to be found in this age. It's rumored that to hear the phrase properly spoken would surely be an invitation to death to all that would hear it uttered. Although very few ever lived throughout history to hear it spoken and tell of it later, there was a very early account of the blade in a suicide note from one of the original kings of men... "Made camp just past the river black. Within its wood, moon at our backs. Aloft I heard a mournful sound, soft voices on the mist abound. Strange voice within the depth of shadow, through darkened wood and moonlit meadow. As voices fade into the trees, it strides from shadow ,killing three. The rest have all but seen a ghost, as four more fall defending post. The misty chill now felt by all awake within the shadow fall. It sickens it weakens, all those in it's sight, imparting its bearer an unholy might. The stench of its power made thicker with blood, no attempt to describe it could be understood.In seconds it happened My guard was dispatched, now bloody, lay dying my men in his tracks. Icy fingers, cold daggers both tug at my will as my keepers have fallen he faces me still. The foe with the black blade with me as his last, slowly lifts up his edge and points to my past. With a tongue not spoken in many a year, my thoughts heard his whisper and were stricken with fear. This Lord of the darkness a warning he shared, to never come back, my life to be spared. So as swift as the blade that had just claimed my clan, heeding word of the stranger I head back for my land. Where I've been, where I've come from, my kingdom awaits, I long for the comfort of its wrought iron gates. Adventure and travel concern me no more, for there's darkness and suffering outside my door. My soul has been tainted with weakness and fright, no more shall I walk through my kingdom at night. I have seen him and heard him I know he exists, this commander of shadows, his vision persists. While sleeping and dreaming he pierces my mind, no comfort nor solace shall I dare hope to find. Not to be murdered was mercy in the when, this curse and its torment not known to me then. The black blade it haunts me, it's driving me mad, in fear of my shadow no rest have i had. I've begged for forgiveness, and cried in despair, my kingdom, my treasures I leave to my heir. This day it is over, no more shall I fail, speak not a word of my harrowing tale. My death is a journey, and the mandrake my guide, no more will I suffer the ebb of this tide. Bequeathing my reign and gold of my throne, it's fate to my son to decide on his own. I leave you with sadness and darkness of heart as a man who was greedy and vane from the start. I'll exit with warning to all that would hear, mistakes of man's frailty are the worst that I fear. Stay far from temptation of power and might, do what you know in your heart to be right. My wraith, my consciousness or figment of thought, good questions to ponder or all is for naught. I head for the clearing laid down in my bed, I hope that you'll remember all this that you've read. My travels have ended and yours just begun, no rules to remember except maybe one. Stay far from the river whose waters run black, from the forest beyond them no man shall come back." |
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