"That hologram did say it's almost a millennia and a half since someone stepped in here..." He mumbled as he looked over the spears again.
The spear felt light and balanced, with a blade that remained sharp after millennia and a half. It made a faint swish even with the smallest motion as if cutting the air with its absurd sharpness.
The holographic elf appeared again as if programmed to reveal itself whenever someone made contact with any of the exhibited items. This time he was standing still, hands behind his back, and he did not wear his feathered head.
"It was my brother's. Silnár he named it, the Silver Flame. It had seen many battles, and defeated many adversaries; Men, Sarkaz... and elves alike, anything that threatened our lands."
"Lukman never wielded anything other than this silver spear. Denorian the Royal Blacksmith made all of our weapons, and they were precious to us. But we elves both value and despise the legacy of those who have departed. It hurts us to remember, but the same act of remembrance also holds us from casting the keepsakes aside."
"So I left it to the chance, and here you are. The departed need not such a thing, nor can we prevent any hands from claiming our possessions. All I can do is hope that in the hands of their next owners, they will be used for the purpose of good."
She moved over to it, looking it over before she reached out to. That hologram had said they could take anything.. right? She wasn't actually planning on taking anything, she just wanted to test it. She had a bow; a bow she made. Once she got it off the display it was one, she turned a little. She tested it, puling the string lightly as she held it, giving a soft hum. It was beautiful for sure.
The holographic man suddenly showed up beside her.
"Do you like it? It was Luithiel's bow. She named that longbow Ringwëlasse, The Frostleaf in our language. If you have an affinity for frost magic, you can unleash its unique potential, well if not, then you may admire its elegance."
That holographic copy of Theriadore then placed his hand on top of the sealed transparent case below the silver bow and made a gesture as if presenting something that actually no longer there.
"Frostleaf came with its darker counterpart, Lúrëa. It was bequeathed by Serensiel to her only surviving general. If you do not see it in its vitrine, then it seems even my most sophisticated seal could not contain it, and it has returned to its master, whoever it is now."
"Sir Vesemir. What do you think of that mysterious man's statement? The one about how that parchment you held having only one purpose, to put 'her' to rest? What would that mean? And who do you think this 'her' is?" There was a hint of restlessness in Vesemir's eyes when he rolled that scroll again and secured it back into its container. But as usual, he always appeared composed
"Just a plea, one that should not be taken as an obligatory any of us must fulfill."
Momentarily, his eyes darted back to the chamber again, and Vesemir fell silent for a bit before starting again with a wistful tone, as if knowing a mask of composure and joviality wouldn't do the trick this time.
"As for what that means, I do not know exactly what it entails. Over millennia, this scroll was considered a lost relic, yet the speculations and theories about what it can do have become as many as the long years since Theriadore created it."
"To weaken Luithiel. That was its purpose. Vengeful was the Servant of Serensiel during the five years of rebellion, and she weaponized her hatred to destroy her enemies, Men and Elves alike. You have witnessed how Sir Gray invoked divine blessing, this scroll works similarly; To ward off negative influence born from hatred and envy. I have no idea what was the meaning of his request to put her to rest. Luithiel died one and a half millennia ago, and elven soul does not linger. Unless..."
Squinting, Vesemir glanced at Gray who just joined them. "Tell me Mr Gray Flame. What exactly awaits us in Ostianor?"
"Oh, having a second thought now?" the masked elf shrugged, intentionally holding the answer as if wanting to set up suspense. "Could be nothing or the source of all evil we see. Honestly, we Rangers never go into that old tower, part of it is to respect Theriadore's wish and... well Some of my colleagues know better than to disturb the already restless spirit."
"And that Spirit. Is that "her"?"
A small laughter escaped him.
"Was what Theriadore recorded in that chamber frightens you? It's not like you are calling this expedition off even if I tell you every terrible legend and myth surrounding this land."
"Not me, but I think Miss Carnathia deserves to know so she could prepare in advance."
Gray's masked visage shifted at the tubular container, and he tilted his head. "We have prepared enough. But fine. One of the legends says Luithiel is still alive, and that legends spurred many speculations and twisted tales, that she was cursed; that she was awakened as... our primordial form, and the craziest of it, she denied the recall.
Gray, as usual, did not elaborate. He jumped to the worst-case scenario instead. "If we go there to fight her, I have nothing against it. We are strong enough. My question would be, why?"
"I would rather not fight anybody." Answered Vesemir. "Our goal in Ostianor is just to retrieve the key to Nuria. But it seems despite the vote of confidence you don't look thrilled with the idea as well, for the reason that is different from mine."
In his attempt to angle more information from him, Gray Flame sighed and looked at Carnathia. "What I feel is irrelevant, and it's not like I am holding any secret. I've never been into Ostianor's inner sanctum, and I do not know what kind of power that spirit possesses. The story about the Retainer is often mystical in nature, and the wise know when not to push their luck.
"And we are far from the wisest, that's what you are trying to say."
"My opinion is irrelevant. You are the boss. You point the place and I bring you there, anything that stands between us and your goal is a roadblock. You can either turn back or push through, and I'll support you either way."
"Bah!Don't sell this party short. No monsters would stand a chance with people like us around. Hahaha!"
It was hard to discern whether Vesemir was missing the joke, or he had an equally terrible sense of humor.
He accepted the crystal and whispered a word of magic into it, and lo! another beacon activated, like the first light of the dawn that erased shadow with its ray.
Entering the room again, Vesemir placed the crystal on one of the three arms of what looked like a golden candelabrum, and let the room be illuminated by reflections of light from a familiar crystal lamp on the ceiling. At first glance, the room looked more like a small gallery than a workshop, it was less spacious than the library, but somehow roomier with minimal cluttering; only a few notable collections could be seen, and they were either displayed on glass cases or seated on pedestals.
But somehow, the archeologist was more attached to another sealed door near the entrance, where a ray of light manifested right in front of the doorway. It took the form of a humanoid entity, and its sudden presence alerted both Gray and Vesemir, who respectively drew their weapon and stumbled backward in surprise.
Gray initially thought it was one of those lingering phantoms, but after tracking the source of light that powers the curious display, it apparently isn't.
The 'it' was taking the form of a finely dressed man, wearing a fancy feathered hat and an elaborate robe. Initially, the holographic entity did not show any expression, but then, his empty eyes shifted to Vesemir and gave him a curious look.
"Mae Govanen!" said the translucent being. "I don't recognize you and it has been... 1554 years since Silva, my human apprentice last visited. So you must be a party of intellects and able-bodieds in a quest for treasure. There is no shame in that, whatever is in this room, the dead don't need them." His well-shaped eyebrows scowled as though he was having a headache, and she spoke in a rather pitying voice. "But I must advise you to not go beyond this door. This is a personal chamber, you see. The place where I rest when the fatigue has been too unbearable, and I still rest there and wish no disturbance. I hope you can understand."
Then, like a snuffed-out flame, the holographic man disappeared. Vesemire looked to his left and right, and Gray did the same: checking every gap and trapdoor, lest there be traps and contraptions suddenly sprung open. They found none.
"Relax… it seems whoever or whatever assuming the form of Theriadore had no ill intent."
After saying that the monocled elf turned back, heeding the warning, and continued to browse the rest of the exhibits displayed.
There was a bow hung on the north wall. Made of silverish material, it had minimal markings, save for some unordinary-looking feathers attached to its string. Before it was an empty display case made of enchanted glass, but it was empty, despite being locked tight.
Right on the opposite wall was another transparent display containing an exquisite-looking partisan. Its head looked like it was made of polished blued steel with short protrusions on its sides. The metalwork continued to its pole, which looked like it was made of a combination of stainless metal and ivory. Some battle markings and stains could be observed both on its blade and pole, but they were insignificant.
On the west, flanked by a chair and a cupboard full of books was a stone pedestal, which atop it rested an iron chest that was half opened.
"Good Lord, look at that! It looks like what we are looking for."
Inside that box was a tubular container made of embellished wood. When the Archeologists walked forth to claim it, that holographic entity showed up again, this time sitting on the chair next to the pedestal.
"I assume you pick that up with a reason. Otherwise, it would be nothing but a deadweight for you." Despite its roundabout fashion of saying things, the expression of unreal Theridaore feigned a deep concern. "It was created for one and only purpose. And if its service is needed again, then my biggest fear has come into being. It's such a terrible fate that she has to endure a thousand years of restlessness. I hope your efforts will put an end to her misery".
And then the image was gone again.
Clutching the tubular container close to his chest, Vesemir maintained a dignified poise as he walked out of that chamber. In the Library the archeologist immediately found himself a large table, where the container would have its lid opened.
Taking a quick glance at Roxas, Vesemir smiled to himself as he watched her selflessly helping others. "With this, we will fight off the shadow... It will be a walk in a park afterwards"
It looked like ordinary parchment when he unrolled it, but the words written on it were unmistakenly powerful: they glowed in gold when Vesemir placed his index finger and muttered verses written on it, and then around him, particles of light started to form. They multiplied and fluttered around, like a lucid plume of light, and the glow they radiated rivaled the refraction of light from the crystal lamp above; it filled the entire library and the additional room where this powerful scroll was taken from.
Everyone in both rooms would notice that they were bathed in a soft glow, before finally the spell faded, and the particles of light started to disappear.
"All things considered, I suppose that went well."
To be frank, calling it went well was a bit of a stretch, the fire was still there and Vesemir was almost about to toss his cane and fancy vest to put out the fire when Via, rather than conjuring ice or water to extinguish, picked a fire spell to... worsen the fire again?
Apparently not, her own brand fire looked like a living blaze that suck out the heat and oxygen from the existing fire, snuffing it out almost immediately. In amazement the archeologist swept sweat from his forehead, realizing that no harsh words were necessary, and nobody deserved blame for this.
"Are we cataloguing this library, or shall we move to the next room? I recall daytime is allegedly quite dangerous here, we dont have that much time."
Hearing that question, suddenly excitement filled his heart again. "Why, Mr Engelbert, to the next room of course." He glanced at Tillius, who volunteered to rescue the unburned shelves from the damaged ones.
"Gentlemen, I think that is enough that the fire has been put out. But if you want to give these valuable relics the proper appreciation they deserve, then be my guest. Just keep in mind that this hall is a library, and we are not a bunch of thieves."
Winking his monocled eyes, he shifted to the red-haired swordswoman and Roxas, wordlessly urging the healer to pick the brooch. "And don't forget our Eastborn friend. Looks like some nasty cuts on his palms."
Then he moved to the door, inserted the card, and pushed it open. And it opened like an ordinary heavy door.
"See? No need to hammer it! I was expecting it to say a welcome or something, though. Don't you wonder why the messages are all in Common and not Elvish?"
The room was dark, so Vesemir had to tread carefully."Sívë anan eis lyenn, Theriadore." He said as he looked at the dark room. His lantern was still at the pillar, the only source of light that kept the library lit. And he did not bring a spare.
"Master Tillius, would you be so kind as to borrow me the crystal we recovered from the house earlier?"
Chaos unfolded, what a joy! Vesemir had been in many expeditions, and sure as hell this kind of occasion was almost a staple. But he thrived in chaos, or to be exact, in its aftermath, or when somebody else were busy with it.
So, taking advantage of the Golem's attention that was not fixed on him, the renowned archeologist gripped the mysterious card again. He had taken a scenic route through the left bookcase alleyways, safe from the ongoing fight, and allowed his eyes to feast on Theriadore's ancient collection before heading toward the door, which bluntly rejected his attempt to enter by sanding out a bored announcement:
Frowning after sending off a cursory glance at the ongoing battle, the monocled elf deducted that one, his card is still a valid key, and two, defeating the golem would unlock the door.
It was such a shame that they couldn't just deactivate it. He raised his hand and witnessed how the people he hired exchanged blows with the stony guardian. Arrows were fired, spears thrown and swords swung, often in an exaggerated fashion, and that eastern vagabond seemed to be the most guilty of it. Who even swings a sword by jumping overhead?
Vesemir had already lost interest in that golem, and his awe had turned into concern when the party piled blow after blow toward the now half-frozen guardian. Ironically, Whatever blood that spilled from the subsequent attack started to ignite the precious millennia-old bookcase.
"What a shoddy job! those books are as precious as one of your limbs! Could you please put that fire off?" Though his words were only that of an entreaty, it was clearly filled with utter perplexion. "Or at least be more cautious!"
It actually wasn't such a surprise that they paid him no head. Except for Gray Flame, who shouted, clearly not to entertain his wish of how this particular fight should be executed, but rather, for a more pressing matter.
"Hey, get out of the Killzone!"
And look at that arrow! Battling his bookworm enthusiasm, Vesemir immediately knew he wouldn't want to be anywhere on the arrow's path. The monocled elf retreated to the left side of the hall, but not before taking a good look at how the fight fared so far. Those mana lines, broken crystal, and the weaponized concrete that was not quite dead yet. A spherical dome was erected around the elven healer, who conveniently, or not so conveniently, stood right in the middle of the hall, and that was a cue that told: everyone in this room knows exactly what was going to happen.
The archeologist, for the first time after long decades, reconsidered his destination and rushed for his life toward the only source of reliable protection available.
Gray Flame sat another arrow to the bow and carefully positioned himself not far from that pillar.
To be frank, he actually wanted to slack off and let the fatigue in his hand go away first before doing any action, But right now, with the fire spreading, and the golem charging up its ultimate weapon, well...he simply couldn't.
"Hey, get out of the Killzone!" He shouted and pulled the string of his bow to its proper, and fullest draw. A faint spark of white flame flickered on the tip of his arrowhead and coated it with a silverish gleam.
The arrow flew with a distinctive supersonic crack, like the sound of a whip or firearm being discharged indoors, it created a spiral trail of dust on its relatively short travel toward the golem's crystal eye.
Desc: Sonia is a fair-skinned young woman with an average to slightly slim build. Her waist-length hair was crimson red and left untied. Matching with the curtain, the windows of her soul are purplish-red with slitted pupils. A pair of short horns jutted out of her hair, forming an arc similar to scarab antlers, something (along with her pointy ears) she often futilely hides with her hood.
Race: If it wasn't obvious enough, Sarkaz, a pseudo-biblical demon. No, she doesn't have a tail, no, she is not and does not behave like that kind of she-demon, stop asking!
Bio: Dad was an arms dealer, everything else was blurry. Sonia was still a teenager when her parents kicked her out of home. Was it because of her own fault or her parents simply tired of her was never a clear occurrence in her memory. Sometimes she remembers a bit of the detail, and on the next occasion, she found herself already on the road with traveling gear and a crossbow, feeling confused. It is certainly not amnesia, she still remembers who she is and every bit of the years that have passed along with her journey. It's just, sometimes she wondered what the hell is she doing spending years from town to town, from one wilderness to another, and not in the place called home?
I think I need a scoop of ice cream.
Purpose of travel: Like any other passengers, arriving safely at the designated port. And then travel a bit more to her hometown. Perhaps looking for an answer, maybe just stopping by, or... who knows, finding her way back home.
Other information: Nothing particularly outstanding with Sonia's combat capability. She can shoot swiftly and accurately, and if she really means it, there will be no armor thick enough to deflect her bolts. Sonia is well aware of her inexperience in real combat, so she won't hesitate to work with everyone and follow the chain of command if the situation calls for it.
Equipment: Medium-sized canvas bag, dagger, a reverse-draw mechanical crossbow with "Alhazen" markings on its limbs. 25x crossbow bolts. A coin purse containing the amount of money enough to purchase another ticket.
Name : █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ The Gray Flame Species : Elf Gender : Male Age : 255 Place of Birth : █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ Date of Birth : █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ Affilation : Varenheim Sentinel (Retired) █ █ █ (Retired) The Cloudsong Adventurers' Guild
𝘗𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘈𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴
Height : 188cm Weight : 76kg Build : Athletic Eyes : Blue Hair : Silver Skin Tone : Fair
𝘗𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘌𝘹𝘢𝘮
Physical Strength : Standard Mobility : Standard Physiological Endurance : Excellent Tactical Acument : Excellent Combat Skill : Excellent Arcane Capability : Outstanding Mana Pool Type : Wellspring
𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘦
Real name unknown, place of birth unknown, rumored to be affiliated with the Varenheim Government, all you can find after digging for information about him is a veteran who had retired from Varenheim special forces a century ago. A man with a certain degree of fame in the Adventurers community, it is confirmed that he is one of the few people who have wandered into The Land of Twilight and returned on multiple occasions.
Save for the unnervingly simple white mask, the Gray Flame is an ordinary-looking elven man with white hair and fair skin. His general attire consists of dark green trousers with a brown vest, white shirt, and leather belts. He wears combat boots and a grey traveling cloak with a hood.
The Gray Flame was one of the first persons Vesemir Barandir hired for his whimsical adventure. Recommended by the head of the Alkautsar Branch, the Gray Flame is not only a reputable adventurer with myriads of experience regarding The Land of Twilight, but he has also proven to be very attentive and patient with the old archeologist's ramblings.
𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴
-Proficiency with bow and sword(passive) The Gray Flame is an experienced combatant for both close encounters and ranged skirmishes.
-Deep theoretical understanding of Fire magic (passive) Besides granting exactly what it says on the tin, the mastery grants the Gray Flame natural resistance against fire-based magic and prevents him from taking damage from his own spells. Additionally, the understanding allows him to gradually suppress the flow of fire-based magic of a person and object he touches.
-Powershot Imbues a single arrow with arcane power, allowing it to be shot with great velocity and power. Armor Piercing. The Gray Flame has to have his bow equipped to use this ability. Has 1 turn cooldown
-Vermillion Sunrise Channels into and coats his sword with Fire Magic. The Gray Flame can launch up to four waves of flame from his sword and grants additional bonus damage to his melee attack. It has 2 turns cooldown. The Gray Flame has to have his sword equipped to use this ability
-Arcane Shield Applies a translucent fire-resistant barrier on the friendly unit he touches, granting them the same protections he enjoys from his second passive. Lasts 3 turns, and can apply to up to 2 targets. Has 3 turns cooldown.
-Star Shower Bombards the area in 50 meters around The Gray Flame with fiery crystalline shards from the sky. The spell lasts for 2 turns. The falling crystals can be avoided by taking shelter under a solid object or with a very strong shield. Has 3 days of cooldown.
𝘌𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘱𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵
-Longbow Ordinary longbow made of hickory wood. -Double-Edged longsword An Eastern Jian sword with a slightly elongated handle and thicker blade. Sheathed in a white leather sheath. -A quiver containing 25 arrows -Medium-sized backpack -A silver compass -A white mask. Adorned with nothing, nor symbolize anything other than a piece of protective gear to hide one's identity.
Name : Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 59 Place of Birth : Alkautsar, Varenheim Date of Birth : September 13 Affilation : Central Security Agency (Formerly) The Council of Nations International Court of Justice The Peacekeepers
Physical Attributes
Height : 175cm Weight : 60kg Build : Lean Eyes : Blue Hair : Blonde Skin Tone : Fair
Physical Exam
Physical Strength : Normal Mobility : Excellent Physiological Endurance : Excellent Tactical Acument : Excellent Combat Skill : Standard (melee), Excellent (ranged) Arcane Capability : Excellent Mana Pool Type : Wellspring
Profile
Jazdia is a straightforward woman, but that barely scratches the surface of who she really is. Every royal and dignitary in every court from the three major human kingdoms seemed to know her— she attends their banquets, talks to their prime ministers, if not their kings, and sips their finest tea always as a VIP. But ask people about her, and the more you ask, the more polarizing the answer will be.
People who got to know her to some extent might say she is too blunt, unapproachable, and sometimes callous. On the other hand, the others say she is a reliable and trustworthy friend. These last two are perhaps arguable, but there is no doubt about the first three.
"If she's angry at you, that's a good thing! If she's polite and talks formally, though, that means she doesn't really give a damn about you. She is that kind of prideful person who would never admit that out loud." —A certain emissary; name omitted likely out of fear.
Jazdia Crystalspark never asked for much, after the disbandment of CSA and decades of tenure bringing war criminals and ruthless warlords to justice, all the elf wanted was to fulfill her late fiancé's dream of opening a restaurant and spend the rest of her days sipping tea and sees the world evolve as she slowly builds her business empire.
But the problem with being a long-lived elf and having an early retirement is that as time passes, she could feel a growing emptiness in her heart that needs to be filled. No matter how much she dislikes getting involved in any nation's wars and politics, or how convinced she is of the idea that it's time for humanity to make their own decisions, she always feels compelled to return and make things right.
The Council undoubtedly welcomed her return, and considering her long accomplishments and capability, granted her the position in their peacekeeping task force. For Jazdia the deal was more than enough. Being there means she is relatively away from The Council's ruling body, sparing her from the headache of high politics and decision-making. The position also grants her rights to act independently and diplomatic privilege in all nations that are part of the Council.
A battle-seeker, or a noble who actually does something. The arguments about her motive are endless, but all parties seem to agree that Jazdia is someone who could not let go.
Jazdia rarely talks about her past. When asked about it, she will give an elusive smile and smoothly transition to a different topic before anyone can realize it. "What happened in the past, belongs in the past." that was what she said on one occasion, and nobody was brave, or foolish enough to try to press her any further. It was something she only shared with nobody but a few friends she trusted.
However, it wasn't really a top secret for those who knew where to look. There are a few people in Varenmheim who know who she is. 35 years ago, Jazdia started her career as a combat healer for Varenheim Sentinel Unit, but then years later, her unit was involved in an accident that killed a Westernant's Top Officer of State during his bilateral visit to the country. Unfortunately, the aftermath of that accident was as obscure as the conclusion of both nations' supposedly biggest diplomatic disaster, and no further records could be found about what happened to Jazdia after the tragedy. Some said she was dishonorably discharged, others said she was blamed for not only the entire Unit's failure to capture the assassins but also the death of her squad members, including her own fiancé. The alternative theory suggests that the charge was deliberately placed on her to cover up the accident, which was allegedly orchestrated by one of Varenheim's high-ranking officials. Jazdia never revealed her side of the story.
Traits and Spells
-Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated.
-Blessings of the Crimson Flame(passive) Grants limited mastery of fire magic, and moderate resistance to fire. Resting near any fire or under the sun would gradually regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage.
1. Crystal Enchantment (Active) Channels magic into an arrowhead, and transmutes it into solid purplish crystal, radically changing its structure to contain compressed, fire-based arcane energy. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three variants: A.Explosive Crystal Arrow Imbue an explosive command into the arrow that explodes upon impact. Can also be programmed for delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrow Imbue an arcane command that allows the energy to be released gradually, causing the arrow to release an extremely intense exothermic reaction that enables it to pierce through armor.
The spell can be used once per turn. Once turned, the crystal arrow cannot be disenchanted or disarmed. The enchanted arrow cost 3% of Jazdia's total mana.
2. Counter (passive) Any close-range attack will be answered with a heavy counterattack.
3. Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. Activation costs 6% of her total mana and maintaining the ability drains 3% per turn.
4. Vengeance Automatically activates after losing more than 70% of her HP. Temporarily suppresses the effect of blood phobia and grants her immunity from external psychological influence. Increases Jazdia's reaction time and focus and unlocks the third variant of her Crystal Arrows: C. Obsidian Arrow. Upon hit, deals heavy damage over time for the next 4 turns. The bodies of the enemy killed by this arrow will burst out a swarm of black lepidopteran that attack nearby hostiles until either they or the caster dies, or the effect expires (3 turns). At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the butterflies will return to the caster and mend her wounds.
The skill lasts for 3 turns, with 3 days of cooldown. The Obsidian Arrow can be shot twice per turn during this phase.
Equipment
-Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. Nearly indestructible. It can never be separated from its owner no matter what. -Maugrim A long knife with an ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. - A quiver CSA-Issued back quiver. Made of canvas, very lightweight and comfortable. It features additional pockets and compartments to store additional items... or long blades. Contains 25 arrows. -Small satchel/messenger bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A memento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Bronze compass An antique compass pointing to the north(duh) has more buttons than the usual compass to activate its hidden features. -Medikit Generic first aid kit that is in the name only. Upon closer inspection, it looked nothing like the "first aid kit" commonly sold in the market. Consult with Jazdia before use.