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Lucian could feel the ship move from one side to the other. It reminded him of his battle against the Hellpit Abomination. A monster so large that its attacks caused the very ground to become so much less solid than it should have been. Here he experienced it in a slower, but constant form that threatened to work at his senses.
Falling to it he did not though. It was not that he did not feel the pain of it all but that his mind and body was somehow above that threshold of pain. He could tolerate far more than a normal man, and even Dwarf, as Lucian had last seen Adok lying in bed grumbling in pains.
Within his lap was the newest creation of the Dwarf, a scythe of blackened metal and whose size was somewhat greater than before. Previously it was a farming instrument that was steadly increased in quality and strength by the Dwarf’s hands but this one was no longer that. Made by Dwarfen Steel in the dead keep of Karak Kol it was far stronger than the last one in a material sense. It was also far heavier than before, like trying to pick up a beast.
He was strong enough though. Slowly taking the weapon into his hands to feel out the weight of the instrument. As he did so the rune that was settled upon it, Kel-Thezar, glowed with a powerful yellow light as Lucian felt his flesh shaken by it. Responsibility was what weighed within his hands for he knew in an instant that the scythe was no longer just a simple weapon.
There was barely a thing he could compare it to. While the enchantment did not fight him he felt as though there was no holding back. If he made a simple strike against the nearest wall, Lucian will rend a hole into the side of the ship as large as a small child. If used against a man who was unlucky, Lucian will not only cleave the man in two but tear asunder the entirety of his flesh.
Where the armor wanted to give into wanting fury the scythe threatened it. It was a threat that Lucian needed to be wary of.
It was as the weapon was so delicately balanced within his hands that Lucian saw someone come towards him from the right.
The man looked… foreign. The Knight could not place exactly where he was from for he did not sport the massive beards of the Imperials nor did his hair looked as cared for as a Bretonnian Noble. Lucian would call the man a well off Peasant, similar to what he was before the destruction of his home.
He looked over Lucian’s weapon with curiosity and a close eye. Lucian felt like he wanted to hide away his scythe, or perhaps keep it close away from the prying eyes of a man who looked as disheveled as he.
Not to mention that the man had a stench of the dirt upon him. A scent the Knight was all to familiar with working both the Gardens of Morr and walking through the Underway for the last few weeks.
