(after the fall of Aveston, Imperial Magistrate Aldrakar requested the nobles of Luria to send him exceptional swords. seeing that no one had done so and eager to increase his standing in the realm, Jonn rises to the task...)
"Someone to see you, m'lord."
Aldrakar looked up from his work at his man-at-arms, surprised. An unannounced caller before sunrise, in wartime no less. Even in a well-guarded city like Shinnen this was unexpected.
"Who is it?"
"Couldn't say, m'lord. Man don't speak." The guard shifted uncomfortably as he seemed to search for something more satisfactory. "Ah! He wore a brooch, though, m'lord, a sigil, if you like. Some wolves and a bird, and some funny letters. Seen a banner like it once, on our side of the lines."
"Sir Jonn's sigil," Aldrakar mused, more to himself than the guard. "Yes, a knight in Lord Idesbald's service. See the man in."
The guard nodded, smiling, and left for a moment before returning with the man in question. Aldrakar was struck by his most singular appearance; broad of stature, skin near as dark as the sable fur in which he was cloaked. He dressed all in black, from jerkin to boots, a most richly dressed messenger, and tucked under one arm a quite long and slender box, itself wrapped in a rich sable fur. The brooch in question, more of a clasp really, was indeed the sigil of House Dodger; two wolves rampant flanking a shield, a crow or perhaps a raven above, and some words in a foreign script below. Where was Sir Jonn from again? Some island somewhere, who could keep track these days.
More striking than both the rich quality of his dress and the shape of the parcel he carried, though, was his face. Keen eyes peered out from beneath bushy eyebrows and over a pronounced nose to take in Aldrakar's lodgings with a steely regard, until they came to rest impassively on the Imperial Magistrate himself, whom he seemed to observe a moment with no more interest than that which he had shown for the furnishings.
After taking a moment, as if to confirm for himself that Aldrakar was indeed the man he sought, the messenger sketched a bow, more of a nod really, and with his free hand withdrew from beneath his cloak a rolled and sealed parchment, which he extended toward Aldrakar without a word.
A bit taken aback, Aldrakar cleared his throat. "It is customary for messengers in our realm to announce themselves and their purpose, but since you and your liege are foreign to our lands, perhaps.." Aldrakar shook his head and blinked, a strange morning indeed. "I am Aldrakar Renodin, Imperial Magistrate of Luria Nova, Lord of Giask. And you are?"
The man's eyes laughed, and with scroll in hand gestured to his mouth, shaking his head. Not a word, indeed. Perhaps a mute, then, strange choice for a messenger. Aldrakar sighed and gestured for his attendant to retrieve the scroll. This being done, he broke the seal with the knife he kept for the purpose and unrolled the parchment. Before reading, he looked up. "You may put the box down, if you like," he told the messenger, who placed it delicately upon the table that separated them. Aldrakar began to read:
"To Lord Aldrakar Renodin, Margrave of Giask, Imperial Magistrate of Luria Nova.
I hope this letter finds you in good health and humor. I send it to you from Shinnen Purlieus just before travelling to Garuck Udor, in the hands of my most trusted associate, Thursday. I hope his peculiarities have caused you no offense. His muteness I believe to be cultural rather than biological, his people speaking by means of hand signals rrather than the speech of most men; his lack of deference for authority I cannot account for. Regardless there is no man I would rather trust with a task of such import, by virtue of his unflagging loyalty.
I wish to thank you for the kind words you sent to me a day past, as of the writing of this letter. I shall endeavor to deserve such esteem as you expressed, and continue to serve your noble realm faithfully.
There is, of course, the matter of the parcel which accompanies this note, which I trust you shall enjoy. It has pained me to see your recent requests go unanswered by the realm, and upon finding the work of a smith I commissioned in the Purlieus for repairing my men's gear to be far beyond the norm, have decided to fulfil your request with a blade designed especially for the purpose.. celebrate our victory in Aveston.. the smith is a Lurian veteran.. great patriot.."
Aldrakar's heart leapt upon the confirmation of his hope that the case laid before him did indeed contain a sword such as he had requested, and he quickly found he could not concentrate on the rest of the message. The same anticipation he'd felt as a boy gripped him now, his great passion for the stark beauty of well-worked steel. Unable to contain himself, he stood from his chair and drew the sable wrap back from the wooden case. The case was as rich as its covering, a dark mahogany, with the Lurian emblem carved beautifully into the center of the lid. Below it in small letters was carved:
"Commissioned by Sir Jonn of House Dodger, for Lord Aldrakar Renodin in this Spring of the Year Twenty-Nine."
Undoing the steel clasps that held the case shut, Aldrakar raised the lid to reveal its contents. Laid upon a cushion of what else but sable ermine was a blade that near took his breath away. He took it by the hilt and laid the blade across his palm delicately to examine it closer.
The flickering candlelight played across four feet of pattern-welded steel, artistically made to give the impression of ripples on water. The blade was slender and deadly sharp, edge and point; the crossguard curved into thorn-like tips, the pommel hefty and pointed itself. Each part of the sword seemed designed for use in combat, its deadly intent the work of a master swordsman's mind, and yet that took nothing from the weapon's beauty.
The foot and a half long hilt was wrapped in a leather tanned honey-amber, soft to the touch, and at the quillion, the centerpiece of its aesthetic design: the emblem of Luria Nova, the Imperial shield. Its red quarters were of a rich carnelian, the blue, a dark topaz. The double-headed eagle was done in gold, and the shield's border in a brilliant silver. Turning the blade in his hand, Aldrakar saw that the design was repeated on the opposite side in perfect symmetry. Perhaps best of all, the hilt fit perfectly to his palm, and the blade was light and well-balanced for its impressive length.
He shared a glance with the dark messenger, whose eyes smiled to see his obvious reaction to the gift, before returning it to its case and settling to finish the letter.
"I regret my inability to deliver this gift myself, but duty to the realm ever calls, as I am sure you know better than most. I truly hope the blade arrives to you safely, and that you are pleased by it.
As for the matter of the promised reward, I must politely refuse it. My estate in Askileon has made me rich beyond my capacity to spend, and believe me, that is an art in which my capacity is second to none. Thus, should you find it a worthy blade, my sole request is that you apportion some of the gold to restoring the defenses in Poryatown and Aveston, that the weak points of our defense be bolstered.
And good tidings to you and good health, until we meet again.
Your comrade in arms,
Jonn Dodger
Knight of Askileon"
