Weapon
For a brief moment Jezirea began to chase them. How dare they attack her? How DARE they?! She would hunt them down and make them pay! But then she stopped. Those thoughts were so unlike her. She only went looking for the sort of trouble that paid her, and she was no criminal, no murderer. Surely they had committed crimes, and for that they should stand trial, not be hunted down and murdered themselves. Jezirea staggered as a wave of nausea washed over her. She dropped the sword as she fell to her knees and vomited on to the ground. She knelt there for a while, breathing heavily and trying to calm her insides. It took a while, but her head began to clear finally.
Her eyes began to wander over to the sword that lay beside her. Now that she had a chance to look at it, she could tell it was ancient and extremely well crafted. It had been balanced perfectly, as if it was made for someone of her height and strength. The hilt was inlaid with highly detailed knot work and a few carefully placed gems, and the blade itself was etched with runes she did not recognize.
Use me.
Jezirea almost reached out for the sword, but then stopped herself. She pulled her hand back. She was smarter than that. The sword was obviously imbued with some strange magic, and she knew better than to tamper with unknown magical items. Sure, it had given her the abilities of a trained swordsman, making the bandits easily defeatable, but it had also clouded her mind and filled her with hatred. Maybe the bandits had deserved that hatred, they had attacked her after all- tried to rob her and do who knows what else, but Jezirea knew that these sorts of cursed items had a way of getting out of control.
Yet she couldn't just leave it lying there where anyone could find it, could she?
Her eyes began to wander over to the sword that lay beside her. Now that she had a chance to look at it, she could tell it was ancient and extremely well crafted. It had been balanced perfectly, as if it was made for someone of her height and strength. The hilt was inlaid with highly detailed knot work and a few carefully placed gems, and the blade itself was etched with runes she did not recognize.
Use me.
Jezirea almost reached out for the sword, but then stopped herself. She pulled her hand back. She was smarter than that. The sword was obviously imbued with some strange magic, and she knew better than to tamper with unknown magical items. Sure, it had given her the abilities of a trained swordsman, making the bandits easily defeatable, but it had also clouded her mind and filled her with hatred. Maybe the bandits had deserved that hatred, they had attacked her after all- tried to rob her and do who knows what else, but Jezirea knew that these sorts of cursed items had a way of getting out of control.
Yet she couldn't just leave it lying there where anyone could find it, could she?