[center][img]https://imgur.com/XShqxhB.png[/img]
[h1][u]Elys Adair[/u][/h1][/center]
[i][color=gray]Oratorio - //A3 - The Plaza at Morning[/color][/i]
[sub]In collaboration with [@ERode][/sub]

[hr]

The blacksmith quieted down, setting the sword back upon the counter as he folded his arms. There were always those types, flocking to Oratorio with a heavy past and a paltry inheritance, using an heirloom until it broke and became unsalvageable. He could understand it. Some tools, as they aged, rose rather than fell in value.

But you didn’t trust your life with hammers and tongs the same way you would with sword and shield.

[b]“Look, at this point, you have two options. I can polish it and clean up the edge, but it won’t last long as a weapon. Put it up on a display if you want to remember your father by it. Otherwise, I can take it apart and forge a new blade for it while keeping the hilt and the guard. It won’t be the same, but it’ll be functional.”[/b]

A muscle ticked in Elys jaw as she weighed the options. She thought of her father, taken from the world before his time. Her mother. Her only inheritance in front of her. 

It was true, the blade had seen a lot. All of her failures as a monster slayer, and all of her successes. 

But what if the Crimson-flame decided to pursue her, and make trouble? She needed a blade that would be functional. How on earth would she pursue the Abyss without it?

Was it worth saying goodbye to the blade?

Elys leaned on her staff, jaw clenched, before she slowly nodded.[b] "You're right, you're right. It broke in the Abyss, and I can't have that happen again... Keeping the hilt and the guard sounds fair, I trust your wisdom on this."[/b]

The blacksmith nodded. She had some sense in her, at least.

[b]"It'll be ready tomorrow. I'll lend you one of the others off the rack until then."[/b]

[hr]

Tired and bleary-eyed, and her purse a little lighter, Elys wandered back into the plaza. Her lender sword was attached to her hip with a nice weight, and despite the exhaustion and overall disgust with her robes at that moment, she felt fairly well.

She was tempted to turn around and go back to the Bladerights, sleep and spar with the students. Most importantly, sleep. Maybe even take a bit of food. 

But despite her exhaustion and hunger pangs, there hung an ominous threat over her head. She could still feel the Crimson-flame somewhere nearby. And that meant one thing, and one thing only - she had to be ready. She needed to make as many preparations as possible.

She was the one with the vision, after all. She had to make the impossible happen. And it could very well happen today.

So, she found herself a place in the center of the plaza, stepped up on a gray mass she [i]assumed[/i] was an old crate, stamped down on her staff, and began to speak to the passerbys.

[b]“I’ve had a vision of the future! The Thousand-Face God never died when the Perishing Star extolled a heavy toll. They live on! I have been blessed with a part of the countenance of that very same God. Follow me, and I will lead you to Paradise!”[/b]