As the silence in the room gathers, four of Duke Cromwell’s servants stand and walk towards several ornate weapon cases that are being laid out on the table.
The first of these is approached by the woman in the iron corset, whose strength is evident in her supple body and elegant grace. She flicks open the locks on the case and starts to open it. A shining white light pours out and illuminates the room briefly before the glow recedes and the weapon can be seen.
It is a mighty, glittering great axe, with blades seemingly formed of light itself, and a stern angel watches from between them.
“This… is Balefire. Forged from the swords of the fallen knights of Last Wall and imbued with the holy light of heaven itself. Thrice blessed by a cleric in service of each of the celestial realms, Balefire’s abilities allows those imbued with righteous cause to channel their power not only through themselves, but into its blade. Formidable and unyielding against the forces of darkness… this weapon will serve you well, Zia Donmore.”
The woman brings the blade over, and with a bow she hands the blade with both hands to Zia.
The second to rise is the woman in white hides, who goes to another box and opens it, revealing a magnificent crossbow in the shape of a hawk, whose feathers are marked by a spiderweb pattern. With skilled precision the huntress wields the bow and fires one of the bolts across the room, hitting a suit of armor straight through the heart. Then with agile grace she returns it to a resting position and relinquishes it to Kasumi.
“This weapon is Wraithbane, who has been passed down through the ages by the most renowned slayers in the ranks of Pharasma’s faithful. No unholy abomination may use its powers of ethereal existence to escape its aim, and ever it yearns to put the souls of the dead to rest. Use it well, young one… I feel you may have use for it soon.”
As though to emphasize his point, the eyes of the hawk glow brightly for a moment.
Third of the women to go forward is the blindfolded seer, who reaches out with uncanny, perhaps unnatural sight and opens the box laid out before her. With delicate hands she raises up a glittering scythe of iron and gold, embedded with many a sparkling sapphire. A smiling skull grins from the back of the long, wicked blade and with near supernatural precision, she passes the weapon to Serafina.
“Repose… the Final Sleep. It is perhaps the thing that undead yearn for more than anything else, even if they do not understand why. This weapon may help them achieve that… and more. A blessing rests upon this blade, or a curse, depending on who you ask. It hungers for the blood of those touched by undeath, and it will not stop until it claims those who brought its makers to ruin… which is why I trust it to you, above all others.”
Finally, it is the Enchantress who walks forward and opens the last case, pulling from it a shimmering, mystical looking dagger. She takes it gently in her hands, like a mother holding a child, and the dancing blue light of the blade reflects off of bright green eyes and pale skin. When she turns, she faces Zandu, and with a reverent gesture she lays out the blade before him.
“Of all those here, it is you who has committed your life to writing not only the essence of magic, but of your destiny as well. This blade… it has no name. It has been waiting for you to give it one.”
And with that she steps away and the room is silent once again.