The Icy Rapier
Myth and Truth
(by Taghor)
One day, I had just finished my day's work, I sat down in my local pub at Frodo's to have a beer. As I was sitting there, a traveler came in. He was lumpy from top to bottom, but his eyes made it clear that he was no ordinary beggar. He sat down at the counter and asked Frodo for a beer, which Frodo handed him somewhat reluctantly. At the sight of the gold coins in the man's hand, however, his face brightened again and he went back to serving the other guests. As the evening went on, the man became more and more drunk and talkative. He told of wild battles, so loudly that I could not escape his stories. He noticed my attention and came to me. "Hey dwarf," he said, smiling at me. " Your people should be able to forge the best weapons, right? "" Yes, "I said," that is what we are known for all over Tibia. "" Can you explain to me then why the deadliest weapon in the world , was never touched by a dwarf? ". I shook my head." There is no such thing as a weapon, old man! "I said, full of conviction." Yes, "said the strange old man," I've seen it with my own eyes. "He turned to the other audience. "Your blade is made of pure ice. Powerful magic prevents it from melting. Only the most powerful mage of Tibia was able to create this weapon. It looks like an ordinary rapier. But when it hits you, the ice melts due to your body temperature and the collected magic penetrates you. Then you are lost and die from within. "During his tales it became quiet in the inn and everyone stared spellbound at the strange old man." HAR HAR "it sounded behind Frodo's counter." Really old man that was a beautiful story . Come here, I'll pay you one for it. "Everyone joined in the laughter. Then the man leaned over to me." I see the doubt in your eyes, "he whispered," but I was telling the truth. Go north and you will find a system of corridors near the watchtower. There you will come to the magician Skjaar. He will be able to confirm to you that the ice rapier really exists. "I smiled at him, unwilling to believe that there should be a better weapon than the one made by us dwarfs. At that moment the door to the inn opened. A figure wrapped in black stood in the entrance and a cold breath of air moved into the inn. Horror stood on the old man's face when he saw the figure. "I didn't say anything," he screamed in panic, as if to justify himself.
The black figure remained unimpressed. She raised her hand and the next moment chaos broke out in the tavern. Lightning bolts shot from the hooded figure's hand and struck the old man directly in the chest. He rolled his eyes and sagged dead.
I jumped up, wanted to pounce on the figure in the door, but this suddenly let small fireballs appear in his hand and threw them into the taproom. At the last second I was able to throw myself behind a table. But the taproom seemed to explode. The tables and the counter splintered apart. I was hit by splinters of wood, which luckily only injured me superficially.
From the pangs of pain from the other guests, I noticed that not all of them had been as lucky as I was. I looked at the door. The entrance was empty, the figure disappeared. The old man was lying in the center of the room with rolled eyes. For him any help came too late. I got up and looked around. The pub was devastated. Frodo stood staring over the ruins of his life's work. I left the bar. But outside, too, I found no evidence of the strange shape that had wreaked this chaos. After helping to rescue the injured and, unfortunately, the dead, I went home. I couldn't get the old man's story out of my head. I would not have given it special importance if Frodo's bar hadn't suddenly blown up. I decided to check the man's words for their truthfulness and the next day I set out for the northern watchtower, well prepared. I had heard that a strange but powerful magician had moved to this area with his disciples. But there was no one who had met them and could still report about it. At the watchtower I went to look for the corridor system mentioned by the old man. Strangely enough, the watchtower itself was not manned. The door wasn't locked so I went in. A stink of putrefaction came towards me. I took out my sword and continued inside. A body lay not far from the entrance. but the mighty magician and his disciples had moved into this region. But there was no one who had met them and could still report about it. At the watchtower I went to look for the corridor system mentioned by the old man. Strangely enough, the watchtower itself was not manned. The door wasn't locked so I went in. A stink of putrefaction came towards me. I took out my sword and continued inside. A body lay not far from the entrance. but the mighty magician and his disciples had moved into this region. But there was no one who had met them and could still report about it. At the watchtower I went to look for the corridor system mentioned by the old man. Strangely enough, the watchtower itself was not manned. The door wasn't locked so I went in. A stink of putrefaction came towards me. I took out my sword and continued inside. A body lay not far from the entrance. I took out my sword and continued inside. A body lay not far from the entrance. I took out my sword and continued inside. A body lay not far from the entrance.
I identified her as one of the guards who always kept watch here. I slowly worked my way up the floors, always looking for a clue as to who might have killed the poor guard. On the 2nd floor I found the guard's bedroom and a diary.
In this he described that he had found a secret passage near a dead tree. This was the last entry. I went out and actually found a dead tree nearby.
When I was looking for the entrance, chance came to my aid. Before I knew it, I fell into a hole. I found the entrance. I used my humble magic and turned on the light. I wandered the corridors for a long time, had to defend myself several times against monsters of all kinds. But with my bow I always won. Finally I got through a hole in the ceiling to the magician Skjaar whom the old man had mentioned to me. He stood in front of what appeared to be a burial chamber. One could look in through a window in the door. And there was the weapon the old man had mentioned. It really did look like a rapier, but its blade really seemed to be made of ice, but it also seemed to pulsate with powerful magic. I was spellbound by this sight and was animated by only one thought: This weapon had to become mine. Skjaar pulled me out of my dreams. "Who are you", he rumbled, "what do you want here".
I thought that the truth might anger him, that he might be protecting this weapon. So I just said, "I am just an unworthy pilgrim who wants to pay homage to the people in this grave. And who are you ??". "I am Skjaar," he said, "guardian of this grave."
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"Who is in this grave?" ,I asked. "My master," he said, as if that were all you need to know.
"Can I enter the tomb," I asked hopefully, "can you give me the key ???" "Hmmm" said Skjaar, "I'm not sure if you are worthy to enter this tomb. Only the closest confidante my master is allowed to enter this place. So if you want to go in, I must determine whether you are worthy. Shall I test you ?? "
"Yes," I said naively without thinking. It never occurred to me that I might not be able to cope with this test. The greed for the ice rapier made me blind. "I will kill you if you fail my test," said Skjaar with a cutting voice, "should I really test you ???". He looked at me with a look that made it clear that he could transport me to the afterlife with a single movement of the hand.
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I swallowed, but the thought of the rapier made me forget any fear. "Yes," I said, "I'll pass this test." Skjaar was clearly impressed. "You definitely have courage. But that won't be enough for you." He paced up and down the room and then looked straight into my eyes and asked with a smile, "If you are a follower of my Master, what was his name?"
My forehead was sweaty. What a stupid thing I thought I could fool Skjaar. Mind racing. I had heard a lot about the rumors about the magicians around here near the mountains. And about their leader. And his name reminds me of it again. I looked at Skjaar and gave him the name, always prepared for my sudden death. Skjaar's eyes widened. "Hmm," he said, "maybe you really did know him. But this was also a simple question. Now the next one: What was his banner?".
My mind started racing again. I remembered a conversation I had with a man who had a store in the middle of the wilderness. He had mentioned something about a banner. What was it. Then I remembered it and said it again to Skjaar. "Right again," said Skjaar, "Maybe you really told the truth, but I am only really convinced when you answer the last question: What was the name of my master's assistant?".
This time I couldn't think of the solution. I thought and thought. A bell rang in the back of my mind, indicating that I had heard or read the word assistant recently. Just as Skjaar grew suspicious and raised his hands to turn me into ashes, the right thought shot through my head and out of my mouth. Skjaar lowered his hands, looked me up and down and said: "I am pleased to meet a real follower of my master."
He waved his arms in the air and a key suddenly floated between him and me. "Take this key," said Skjaar, "it gives you access to the burial chamber. I will leave you alone with my master."
Said it and disappeared. Trembling with excitement, I unlocked the door and went into the burial chamber. The rapier lay on the coffin, still pulsing with magic.
I held out my hand, trembling. I grabbed the rapier and, to my amazement, the grip of my hand seemed to adjust. I held it up and admired the purity of the blade. The old man had been right: this weapon was the best Tibia had ever seen. But an inner voice told me that the power of this weapon would not last forever. A blow from her would knock down any opponent, but the weapon would also be gone at that moment. But that hardly diminished their value and grace. I tore myself away from the sight, realizing that Skjaar could return at any moment. I quickly plundered the treasure chests with which the mighty magician was buried, stuffed everything into my backpack, locked the door, and ran away as fast as I could. I quickly reached the exit climbed to the surface and walked happily back to town. The sun was just setting when I got to town. I thought of the gun in my backpack and a feeling of happiness flooded me. Smiling and whistling, I entered the city.