Flameforge opens his weapons display cabinet, carefully removes one particular sword. Gripping the handle and the scabbard, he slowly moves his arms apart, releasing the katana from its sheath. He shifts the heavy weapon in his hand, the worn bindings of the handle fitting so perfectly, finding the balance of his trusty old sword.
The blade glows coldly in the apartment light. Flame cocks his head slightly, as though listening. "Yes... you have long since seen battle. You hunger again for the taste of armour, of flesh. Perhaps it is time to be wielded once more. In the hands of another warrior."
Suddenly he dances a pivot, spinning toward an unseen opponent, striking fiercely, the katana singing through the air... and completely
decimates another burial urn.
"Ah bugger."
Posted: Tue Nov 18, 2003 3:09 pm
