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Khastur was about to answer but was broken by the man talking again. "Well that was certainly quick." he scoffed to Kuchane, who he knew to always appreciate sarcasm. "--I would not say that Ryera is our enemy, the knights and high sages of Luin are our enemy for now-- their main military has fled, you saw a facet of them leaving earlier. Thought admittedly, the number of knights is great-- but that does not mean to slay every Ryeran we should meet on our path. Many of the Ryerans were misguided, and if we should be civil to them, I know they will prove faithful to us."

Khastur continued, "At the brink of death, when I saw Reinsen Nevar's eyes, when I saw the fire in them-- I remembered something about me, before I woke up in the desert. In Keirdon, there is a blacksmith who is said to forge blades with the silver blood of dragons and cool them in the tears of druids." Khastur laughed "I cannot confirm this exactly, but for such reputation he is surely a smithy of great skill-- In Kierdon I will seek out his forge to attain a sword with the strength to kill Luin and Nevar, and any other villains who would rise to power in the dark reaches of our lands. It is a narrow path, so a large company cannot traverse it, but at the same time-- it is far too perilous to go alone. I cannot remember my connections with the blacksmith, and I know he has sworn away from forging implements of death-- but I know if he can look upon me, he will make me a sword worthy to skewer a god." Khastur paused and looked up to Issildia "Has tale been told of such a man before?"

"I don't mean to be rude, but you two still haven't answered my question. Who are you?" Streak asked. "And yes, I agree, we should move quickly for I fear a sandstorm will hit soon."

Streak laughed.
"Of course I remember you, but what about the other two." Streak laughed again.

"Wonderful." said Issildia dryly, "So there is a very real chance that this weapon can not even be forged...lovely." she said sarcastically.

Issildia walked alongside the horse as they continued onward, choosing to make her way on foot. "Still, where exactly would we find this weapon smith, a precise location would be useful...Keirdon is a large kingdom, much of it untamed by any for of civilization...and Larovia along with the Ryera will be attempting to locate us as well...a perilous road indeed."

"There are not many mountains in Keirdon," said Issildia grimly, "But there are of course the Caves of Eska, though no one has entered that accursed place since the time of Damus Eskan, the first King of Keirdon to battle with Larovia...he died within those stone chambers and thus the place was named in his honor."
Issildia then glanced at Khastur,
"Oddly enough the few mountains that Keirdon happens to have are the home of the Eskan Caves." she said wryly.

((no, Streak, theres only me, you, Issildia, and Khastur. Kuchane and Zeo are elsewhere.))


Archer nodded his head, deep in thought. "Either it went wrong, or someone found out about his power. Someone who he didn't want to have one of his swords. His supposedly most powerful sword, Sebatious." He got lost in thought again, and perked up at the name of the Eska caves. "Why, that is where the sword is to be hidden. It's also said to be through a king's skull." He walked among them normally, but he kept finding himself thinking of Kuchane.

Kuchane laughed. "Why must they have bodies of flesh to be pierced and destroyed? Another of my genetic abilities is elemental control." He raised his hand, and a small body of stome rose, and formed a tall figure, imposing of human standard, though not much larger than Kuchane.

Kuchane bowed "I am sorry for my impatience Lord, your wisdom indeed surpasses mine." He rose from the bow, and used necromancy spells he had learned in Hell itself, to create bodies from scratch. Black flames revealed dozens of human bodies, a small force already made. Kuchane did so continuously, for as long as Zeo desired. Sweat formed on his brow, as he exerted alot of his energy.