I am your friend… words.. so easily spoken yet.. to too many just as easily trusted. Words forged upon fragile webbing of lies… as actors of the stage may easily give a convincing performance.. hm, life is the stage the con-artist and back stabbers play their macabre theatre upon.

Jeggred watched Evening as she tested the balance and feeling of the new sickle within her hand, going through simple excises slicing the air.

One slip in this life, one chance given away to others can be the last mistake made or worst… Allowing others to weave your fate is asking for trouble and topples you from this mortal coil.

A thank you and smile tore Jeggred momentarily from his inward muse, a quick nod of recognition and deep within them he found himself swallowed again.

Words fail to hold weight.. Trust given through actions and not impacted by sly tongues.. The fate of you is best steered by yourself, to trust someone in battle is needed as to concentrate on the task at hand… The trust in yourself and the blades you wield..

Jeggred shook his head, the simple task of balance, weight and feel of a new weapon to him being the most important step.

To know yourself, to understand your abilities is to have an advantage and help avoid running into a situation your ill prepared for.. But, most of all trust in the friends that you battle with, the only friends needed and worth the trust the weapons you keep.

Quickly Jeggred removed two short duelling blades from their sheaths attached to his arms. The blades did not reach too long in size, thin and lightweight, blackened to avoid the gleam of light, a pair, both identical. Upon each blade an engrave stamp of a dragon or serpent, a motif Jeggred found rather tripe.

With disgust he replaced them and could not help buy sigh, both were balanced, of a perfect weight but still missed something and Jeggred knew what.

A blade with no history, has no soul.. A blade with no soul is lifeless and can not be trusted to aid you well.. These may grow to have soul.. perhaps.. yet still no fair replacement for Huinė and Nuru.

Huinė and Nuru, the former blades of Jeggred, for years they served him well despite not being of a correct match set or of even weight but something about each of them from the very moments they found their way to Jeggred felt right and any weakness was adapted to.

Despite the meaning of the two to Jeggred, he still could not remember where for certain he acquired them, during his trips away from Moorgate he picked up many artefacts and items, decided to move them along for needed funds as quickly as he could.

It was during one of these 'salvage hunts' within a large mansion belonging to local land owner that Jeggred found the two within the large hall of weapons, the wealthy lord a avid collector and lavished wealth on displaying them to their fullest.

Despite the goal of finding one item for a paying employee, Jeggred could not find it in him to leave behind the two blades, quickly reliving them of their burden, almost screaming to be used.

Nuru turned out to be a blade of a black mithril alloy, light in weight despite being longer than it's sister, intricate patterns and runes of almost black blues danced upon it's surface, a keen serrated edge finished off its beauty.

Huinė on the other hand was the shorter of the two yet heavier in weight. A darker than night obsidian, straight edged and near featureless if it wasn't for a petite deep crimson jewel which sat near it's hilt.

Despite the odd coupling Jeggred spend time to know the blades, going through the basic training as he saw in front of him with Evening. Going as far as customising sheaths for each for the perfect feel.

The way they parted company had edged itself into Jeggred's mind. It was during a expedition in some unexplored area, at least unexplored to Jeggred, when he found himself set upon a beast of great size, the battle was tedious. Each blow seemed to be ineffective against the beasts tough hide and in desperation and hope Jeggred plunged boy blades deep into the beasts neck. The roar of the beast echoed as they pierced in deep and with a violent shake threw Jeggred aside and fled, Nuru and Huinė still embedded into it's neck.

A fitting outcome for such rash actions, Jeggred always had told himself and despite the best efforts he never accomplished to retrieve the blades.

Shaking away his nostalgia, Jeggred straightened himself up and left the guild to watch the night fold away.

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