Rolled 10, 13, 13 = 36 (3d20)
>>5350735>>5350384>>5350380>>5350354>>5350347>>5350340“Throat-sssinger! To me.”
You thus call Karz to your side, and bid him sing you one of his people’s peculiar, reverberating songs—a wordless hymn which you cannot understand the meaning of, but which you recognize vibrates with a frequency verging on the mystical. Your hope is that it will improve morale, as the late Paeris’ songs once did... And, perhaps, help you to focus your own mind and soul upon this blasted elf-sword.
The moon-blade sits in your lap, laid out upon its unraveled cloth ‘sheathe’ for you to scrutinize. It has flummoxed you, eluded precise analysis by even the magically-inclined Jazkarmel. You know it to be a blade of legend—or at least a replica of such, with a genuine magic. Its stone-like material does not rust, chip, or whether; its edge never dulls. It is marked with the phases of the moon, and the Elf Specialist once told you of a legend that it belonged to a Goddess of Light, before being passed down to the first King of the Elves. You and he both doubted it, but… Well, simply wielding it in your draconic shape was enough to frighten away some ephemeral being in an elven spring which hosts what is clearly a deep magic.
What IS it? Besides glowing and enduring, what powers does this sword-of-kings command?
