A number of Metamoran Stories.

[Fen]

well, my stories seem to get buried and forgotten over time, so here is where I'm putting them to be.. not-buried, I guess. I'll be putting them in Chronological order, so my newest ones will be downways a bit. I'll probably edit them once in awhile as well.

The first:

A Traveler Appears

A Metamor Keep Story
by Fenrs Wolf

A number of years have passed since the curse of a town between the north and south was cast upon the inhabitants and the area itself, causing once normal people to take upon forms that are not their own.

This is the story, not of those events, exciting and interesting though they may be, but of one lone man, traveling, who heard of this place for the first time.
My story.

July 9, CR 706
It was long, long ago. I do not know when, for the years blur before me, days, weeks, months, all melding together, endlessly.

This is not the beginning. It is only one of many.

"What? Preposterous!"

"I'm telling ye, I saw it with my own two eyes." The gruff man across the table with the scruffy beard and the eye patch was intent on making me believe his story.

"You only have one eye."

"I lost that after I saw it, so it doesn't matter."

"Fine then, prove it!", It was a battle of the travelers.  Unlike normal battles, we just swap stories of places we've been to see who has the best one. We were in a corner, so words flew looser than normal. People don't pay much attention to corners. We battled every once in awhile, but sometimes he would add a little extra to a place he'd been to have a little advantage. Sometimes I caught him doing it, as I suspected he was doing now.

He replied, scowling at me: "You know I can't do that, Fenrs. It's my policy to not buy things I don't need from places the caravan goes." A silly policy, I thought. Every time he mentioned it, it seemed unnecessary. You could at least get something to remember the place by. I got those every once in awhile.

"Well then, I guess that leaves one option.", I retorted, figuring this wasn't going anywhere.

"Yeah? And what might that be?" He sat back in his chair with a smug grin on his face.

"I'll have to go and see for myself." I got up, and left. I paid for my drink, checked my money for signs of sticky hands, and left the small tavern of oak. The smell of alchohol hung in the air, as well as the more disgusting smell of those who had too much.

With directions from various merchants so that I knew exactly where I was going, I set off across the land, northward, to the place known as Metamor. Midlands were starting to get boring anyway. Things hadn't been boring for me for awhile now, and when they started, it was pretty bad. Being a traveler that I was, I full well knew the dangers going alone brought, so I offered help to a merchant and three guards who were headed the same direction I was. Convenient, but that's how it was; if it's not there, you wait until it is or find it somewhere else. I was reliant on luck to get me where I was going, almost always. Maybe I shouldn't be, but that's how I've always done it. The journey had begun. There was silence, for a time, and night fell. By then I had already seen what I had come for, along the paths in the valley I saw the animal-people, and entirely more children than would be expected. Anyone who wasn't one of the previous two groups had to have been hit by the TG curse, as well. Eventually I returned my gaze to the caravan. Leaving the trader and his guards to themselves was an option, but I was going to get paid after the trip, and I needed some extra money just in case something unexpected happened. It was a cool night, not chilly, but one that feels good to take a walk in. The forest smells added to the affect, and it was practically a simple midnight stroll, for awhile. Eventually one guard broke the calm with his loud voice:

"Hope this time is better than the last." He seemed to have a tinge of regret in his voice, as though he made a mistake the last time they went this way.

"How so?" I was curious what he meant. Maybe someone got lost?

The guard turned back to look at me, and I could sense that bit of regret in his tone intensify.

"Last time we came this way, we got attacked as we were getting close. One of the guards had to get some serious medical attention for his arms, chest, and leg... the Lutins snuck up on us and attacked him first, before we could react. We had to leave him behind. to be honest, I hope we don't seem him again. I don't know what I'd say."

"How about 'would you like your job back?'" I said with a slight chuckle. I figured there are very few times in a trip here humor won't go over well.

The guard shook his head and trudged on. Guess it was one of those times.
The rest of the trip was silent until the Lutins attacked.
The first thing to break the silence was the death scream of the man guarding the rear. It was chilling, and I knew the sound too well. It brought back bad memories.
"Damn. Lutins!" the shout went up as the guards drew their blades.
All were armed, save for the me. I don't carry weapons with me... I can't.

There was something odd about the Lutins. I noticed it immediately; they wore thick strips of leather, some even with bits of metal protection, and their weapons of finer quality than usual. Those weapons almost sent me into a panic. Metal. I thought tribal warriors used bones and stones for weapons. This was bad. I couldn't let them touch me. These Lutins were successful at raiding merchants. I hated things like this. Things that killed people just for the ability to do a better job next time. They killed people because people screamed.  If I had been thinking, I would have told everyone to run. Then we might have gotten away, but I was too angry to think. I just wanted these creatures to die. The guards ran toward our attackers, and the merchant began rummaging for something in his cargo. I began to channel into my spell, all that anger and hate I felt... One of the guards had been cracked in the knee by one of the Lutins with a club. More bad memories came up at the sound of breaking bones. The guard screamed in pain, and the sound filled my ears untill all I could here was the screaming... Lutins swarmed him, in seconds he had ugly red gash marks on his legs and back. Blood spilled onto the ground. The smell of it hung in my lungs and fueled my hate at the Lutins.  I released my spell, compressing the space around two Lutin's heads until their skulls imploded. They screamed as the pressure increased, dropping their weapons. and they fell to the ground. The sound alone would convince any man they were dead.

The other  guard ran in and skewered one of them with a pole arm, shoving the steel into vital organs. The merchant impaled a Lutin's foot into the ground with a heavy barbed bolt, he finally found what he had been looking for. A crossbow. He should know you can't waste time in a battle like that. The guard with the broken leg and the pole arm jabbed his weapon into he Lutin's chest, killing it. The second guard was having trouble with two Lutins, he leaned against a tree, bleeding, and his effort gone to blocking with his shield. his sword lay a few feet away.I cast another spell that lifted it and thrust it into the two Lutins, skewering them to another tree. The smell of blood in the clearing was horrible, and it kept getting stronger. The four remaining Lutins edged closer towards us, and a new Lutin one leaped out from behind us and stabbed the merchant in his stomach, face, and neck, in quick succession. It was a sickening sight, but I tried to ignore it. Leaving an opening would mean getting killed. I didn't have armor like the guards did. the one with the broken arm picked up his sword and stabbed it into the face of the Lutin standing over the merchant, and left the opening the others were waiting for. They all charge him from behind, and plunged their weapons into his back. He coughed up a small puddle of blood before collapsing into it.  I finally had the sense to decide to run. I used what little energy I had left in a  spell to launch the Lutins who were grouped together over the dead men's bodies out of the clearing and into the forest beyond.
"Let's get moving. NOW." I said, grabbing the guard and running towards the direction of the town, and we ran for a bit. I could hear the filthy chattering of the Lutins behind us not long afterwards.

"No... my knee is broken. I can't run. Keep going alone."

"I'm not leaving you behind to die like the others! You fought alright with than knee, I'm sure you can run with it!"

The guard looked up to me, battered, bruised, and broken, and said: " Running is different from fighting, friend. Can't lean on a tree and run. Trees like to stay where they are. You have to go. I'll hold them back. Just run... and don't look back and don't slow down or they might catch you."

"But..." I didn't want to just leave him. It was hard enough having the others get killed by those things.

"I said GO!" yelled the guard, pushing me forward and leaning against a tree for balance.

"At least tell me your name, then."

"My name..." he said, as he began coughing up more more blood, "...is Daniel. Daniel Torov."

"Right. It was a pleasure to meet you, Dan." The Lutins were getting closer. I could hear them. I could smell the blood on their hands... I tried to ignore it.

"What was your name again?"

"Fenrs."

"Goodbye, Fenrs."

I knew without needing to look what his fate was. He sacrificed his own life to save that of another. After a few minutes of running, dawn broke.

I was so angry at myself. "Why. Why do people always die... Everywhere, EVERYWHERE I go... people die... why..." The stench of the battle and the shouts of pain still rang clear in my mind. I was blinded by the emotions, filled with rage at my inability to keep people around me from getting killed, haunted by memories of death and blood. After a time I arrived late in the morning, exhausted. I had never depleted myself that much before. I was so tired. "Wasted my magic.. should have known better..used almost all of it up moving the caravan faster.. should have been patient..." Looking up, I knew it couldn't be much farther. I saw towers poking up, but my feet felt like they were made of lead. There were voices, they sounded like they were miles away. Blurred faces. The Sun overhead, proudly bearing the new day. I collapsed at the gates.

But I had made it.

I got to Metamor.

[Fen]

the second:

Keeper Wolf

A Metamor Keep Story
by Fenrs Wolf

Thursday, July 12, CR 706
I awoke early in the morning.

It was a fairly empty room... A window, the bed I was resting in, some various medical things near the door. I got up. and took inventory of my situation. Still wearing my same clothes. My brown robe was in need of a few repairs, and my spectacles were gone; I must have lost them when I was running. "No use going to look for them, shiny things tend to get taken by forest critters. Gonna be hell making another pair though.". I stepped out the door and made my way down the hallway. I figured I ought to find out where exactly I was. Judging from the looks of things, I guessed I was in a hospital, and a rather large one at that. From outside the windows I saw a city below. There was an odd feeling over the whole area, and thinking back, it was in the valley on the way too, slowly growing in strength. Before I could think about it any longer, a nurse stepped out of an adjacent room, and seemed a bit startled at my being awake and walking around.

"Umm... can I help you?"

"Yes... where am I, and how long have I been in that room down the hall?"

'Well, you're in Metamor Keep now, and... lets see.." She looked down at some papers she was holding and flipped through them. Her face lit up when he got to one that I assume had my information on it.

"Oh, you're the one who collapsed outside the gates on Monday! You're very lucky, you know!"

"Hmm. Lucky, eh? How so?" I didn't quite like the sound of this. being lucky is all fine and good in my opinion, but people don't usually mention it unless you avoided something nasty, or unless something very good happened to you. I figured if I'm unconscious, the first was more likely, and if memory serves, just because you avoided it once doesn't mean it won't turn around and hit you while your guard is down.

"You see, it's been three days since you got here, today is Thursday. That means you have time to leave before you get cursed."

"Hmm. I don't know about leaving town. I never could get the hang of Thursdays... Thank you for your time."

Not terribly interested in wandering about a place where the sick and injured reside, I left. I really didn't want to talk about what happened before I got there, or even think about it. Though, the window exit from the third floor of a building probably isn't considered an acceptable exit. Then again, I never really did care for how acceptable an exit is. It was the closest thing, and I didn't really feel like running into people. Last time I checked, rooftops didn't have to many people on them. I needed to take my mind off what happened, so I wandered around, and found some odd jobs I could do. It kept me busy and got me some money for a room at a nearby inn and food. I don't recall the name... There have been so many inns In my life the names just start melding together. It was a nice strong wooden building, and the smell of home-cooked food filled it. They made good meals, I remember that much. If I had the smell, I'd bet money I could find the place again.

I decided to stay awhile, peculiar though the place may be, as it was the most intriguing location I had ever been to. I had no issues with the people, and they had no quarrel with me. When I wasn't doing jobs or wandering about, I was hanging around one of the gates. Supposedly it was the one that Nasoj guy hit with the animal morph spell. It was fun to watch people passing through, and there were a fair number of people indeed. Merchants, guards, people going out on patrol, and lots of interesting folk. Some of the more interesting people I saw were a young boy with the oddest green hat heading out of town, a pair of jugglers good enough to keep the objects they juggled between them as they walked and chatted, and a man carrying more swords than was really appropriate, or even possibly wieldable. He probably broken them often to have so many, which meant his swords were of little personal value and not of high quality. Those jugglers probably made a killing off their act, though! They juggled all sorts of things of all sorts of colors, and it was quite amusing. One of the best performances I've ever seen, and I've been all over the place. Though not the very best performance I've witnessed. That goes to four bards who were rumored to live in a sort of yellow ship that can go underwater without the people on board needing to breathe underwater themselves. It's amazing what magic can do when people with a fair bit of imagination get to using it.

One day, I decided to explore the Keep, and what I had found was amazing. Twisting halls and random rooms, all changing! In time I found something equally amazing: a library, an unbelieveable library the likes of which I had never seen before! In it I spent time reading all manner of books that caught my eye and seemed interesting. Nobody bothered me, and I spent hours pouring over the books in there. There was so much to read! I knew it would take ages to read all the books, even with a large team of scholars, each working on a project to have all the books in the library read. Days could have gone by without my noticing, if I had allowed myself to remain.

When I woke one day, I sensed the odd presence that was all about the valley, with incredible strength all around me. I began to see feel on my body changing, and my senses began to grow in strength. The smell of all the people living near filled my nose, and I could hear the shouts of merchants in the streets trying to sell their wares, though I was nowhere near them.  Slowly the curse took hold, and I watched the changes with interest. My bones were molded as though made of clay, my fingernails slid down to the tips of my fingers, followed by my toenails. The feet came next; the heels moving up of of the ground and making a slant, forming digitigrade feet, and began changing into paws. The fingers of my hands shortened and the thumbs moved up closer to the other digits. The under my feet I felt the forming of pads, and looked at my palms where the same was occurring. The head was the oddest feeling of all the changes; my face stretched outwards as though being pulled and pinched, ending at a point, becoming a muzzle. My ears climbed up the side of my head, elongating to a pair of points themselves. The pinching, pulling feeling came again, this time pulling out my spine and forming into a tail. Finally, after all the remolding of my form, I felt the fur growing in. A wave of grey starting at the tips of my fingers and toes, and flowing onward out of my skin and up my limbs, covering my body until it had met and nearly covered my entire body. I remembered a large mirror inside the bathroom-something I could use to see what I had become. It hit me the instant I saw my reflection: wolf. The pure irony of it made my burst out laughing for some time. Shortly after I calmed down I got a good look at myself. My 'headfur' as I had heard it called, was still the same,wild and untamed in any way, though it had changed from brown to gray. My eyes remained the green-gray they had been for a long time. After satisfactorily determining my new appearance, I took to the modifications of my clothes. My pants needed a new hole in them for my tail, and my shoes were now useless as footwear-for me, anyway. I put them in my sack of things that I no longer needed or wanted.

Looking out upon the keep and knew exactly what this meant for me as a wanderer.

My travels were over.

I had a home.

[Fen]

And the Third! hooray! *confetti*

The Word Weaver

A Metamor Keep Story
By Fenrs Wolf

October 22, CR 706
"Curse them. Curse them, I say!" I sighed... I had to, but I didn't like it. The people in charge of patrols had found out that I hadn't been doing anything in defence of the keep. Well, they were right- I never did any sort of military service, not for these people. But they were determined to make me start. I was led to a place where they told me what I would be doing. I was to patrol the outer area of the keep, around some forests. Report anything I found, come back alive, kill a couple of dangerous critters if I got the chance, that sort of thing. They gave me a map of the area I was to patrol, marked in red. This was my first time, so I hadn't gotten any equipment assigned yet.

Upon approaching a desk that seemed to be where the registry was, I was suddenly thrust into the outfitting system.

"Name."

"Fenrs..."

It was a mule-morph. He seemed to be in charge of the Armory. There were a few people sitting around, sharpening weapons, taking invantory. There were weapons everywhere...

"Alright, lets see. What kind of armor will you be using, then, Fenrs?"

"Just some leather, nothing heavy. No metal."

"Lightweight, eh? Don't come after me once you've got a dagger in you some metal would'a stopped." A woman in a full suit of armor went into a back room after I had gotten measurements and produced a set of light leather armor, and handed it to me.
The mule jotted down some notes, probably the measurements and what I was wearing, and looked back up after he was done and squinted at me.

"Aight then, what kind of weapon?"

Oh Hells. I forgot they would want to give me a weapon. I didn't want to explain this to them. It wasn't something I wanted anyone to know.
But...it was inevitable. All I could do was try to prolong it.

"Just... nothing. No weapons, thanks for offering, though."

"No weapon, eh?" The look he gave me said enough. He thought either I was stupid or going to die. Maybe both.

"No. None."

"Not even a dagger?"

"No daggers."

Then someone did something unexpected. The woman got up out of her seat next to me and shoved a standard-looking longsword into my hand, saying "Just use this, you bloody fool." before I had a chance to react.

My whole world was suddenly on fire. It was only three seconds, but in that short time it felt like years of agonizing pain, as though I were being shoved into a white-hot furnace, plunged into the fire, and burned alive for decades.

My vision disappeared, I couldn't see, all the senses became blotted out by the pain. Everything was gone... I screamed. I could hear the voices of the people in the room, shouts, panicing, someone yelling for a healer. They seemed so far away in the blackness, and yet I knew they were right there. Suddenly, light, the room, the people. I blinked. The sword was in the wall across the room, forced into the surface by the force of my throw enough to drive it down to the hilt of the sword, with cracks forming around the it.

Everyone in the room looked at me, kneeling down on the ground with my hand smoking where it had touched the sword.

"I said... no.... weapons..."

Everything went dark again. This time, I reached out. Images, floating in the darkness, lighting up the void. I touched the one nearest, and it expanded to take up Everything.

July 25th, 250 CR.

It was a forest of emerald on a mountain. A time when I was most foolish. I waved my sword, a katana, about, practicing my still-in-progress style of fighting. It was from a faraway place from the land I was in now. It was a blade I had in my posession since I was a small child, though I did not learn to use it until I had grown considerably. It had also had the name carved into the handle: Shining Fang.  Light reflected from it like no other blade, and the beams of the sun would dance upon the blade. It was of an unknown metal, and no swordsmith in all the lands I visted could identify what it had been made of. The entire sword was made of the same metal, save for the wooden hilt, which was made of what could only be described as clear wood, as though it were made of glass, but to the touch it was most assuredly from a tree. It astounded people everywhere, and many times I defended my life from those who would attempt to take it, and not once had it ever shown any sign of damage. As I practiced with this sword, something abnormal happened. Words appeared in my mind. They had no voice, but I was shaken by their presence.

"Hello, Child of the Wolf. What brings You to My Mountain?" I barely payed attention to th actual sentance. The shock had overridden the words themselves.

"I am a mere traveller, and am practicing my swordmanship on my way through these lands."

The words flowed into my head, with no reasoning behind them, no sight to identify them with, no voice to match them to.

"You have come Here, to this Place, and I have an Offer for You. Would you accept It? There is, as with all deals, a Price."

"What is it your offer, whatever you are? What is your name? Where are you?

"I have no Name. I have no Voice, no Body, and no Movement. These things are not mine, but they will be in Time. I am Here and I am Now, and I Offer to keep you from the Sands of Time."

"...What?"

"I will make it so that Time has no hold over you. You will never age and the Keepers of Time will be unable to claim your Death."

"So what is the price if I agree?"

"That is for you to Decide. If it is reasonable, I will accept your price. But most likely I will have to add more to make it worthwhile."

"Alright, how about my weapon?"

"Not Enough."

"What?" I hadn't thought of that. It was so bizzare! "Not enough"? What kind of person takes an offer like that and says "Not enough"?!? I was the one taken off guard at that. Whoever this mind-talker was, a sword like mine simply had to have been intreguing! Many people had asked me if they could merely see it. Some would try to steal it, kill me for it, even scam it off of me! And yet something I never encountered before. Someone who wasn't interested. I knew I had other weapons, though not as interesting. Just ordinary things in case of emergencies.

"How about all my weapons then?"

"No. If you are intent on the price of weaponry, however, then That is the price. but that is not all. You shall be my eyes and ears."

"What? That doesn't make any sense! And what do you mean by weaponry being the price, do I have to go and get more or something?"

"I have no body. I cannot see, I cannot feel, I cannot hear. Your voice reaches me only by my own power. You Will show me the world in your travels as part of your price. And for the rest of the price..."

"Yes, the weaponry bit?" This was getting ridiculous. It wasn't even funny. However, I was determined to expose this person for who they were.

"No tools of war shall you ever touch again. They will be your bane, and it will bring great pain to touch them. Keep this in mind, for I do not speak lightly of this."

"Fine, I agree. Can I see you now?"

"Child, I said before. I have no body. You cannot see me."

"Hey now, I am no child! I've been walking about this world for over twenty years, and this game is getting tiresome!"

"There are no games here..." Suddenly my sword flew out of my hand, and floated in the air towards a gigantic dull gray-brown boulder that appeared in the middle of the clearing. the sword rammed into the top, point-down, and was buired as far as the hilt in the stone. "The Sword will never be removed from this place. Trials such as this have been passed before, and will be passed in the future, but none will take this Sword. You have been granted My side of the deal, having given your Payment, and I now See through You."
Then I felt a pain behind my eyes, and it.. the thing, the word-weaver, entered into me. I felt it in the corners of my mind.

"What... No! My Sword!" I ran to it and grasped the hilt, but it would not budge. All my attempts were met with no result. the sword would not be moved. I tried for days on end to move it, but eventually I had to leave. The pain subsided, and eventually I could only feel a tingling sensation behind my eyes, and I knew the word-weaver was watching though me the whole time. I tried to get a new sword so that I would have a wepon, and each time I tried to hold one, It burned my hands, even the slightest touch, no matter if I had a barrier of leather, cloth, or wood between me and it. With all manner of weapons I tried, axes, polearms, daggers, the results repeated. Unlike the sword that had once belonged to me, I could touch nothing of its kind. Then I brushed upon the metal plate of a mercenary, and it burned the same. I realised what the words meant. I could never touch another weapon ever again. I was defenceless. The best armor I could have was leather, and weapons of any sort were unusable. Only the sword I had left inside the boulder at the clearing had not burned. I was robbed Many times, and almost always injured in the process. I had been inches from death at the hands of muggers and highwaymen more times than I cared to count. More and more time was spent in beds, and less doing the traveling I loved.

Then words came into my mind again. "It would seem my price has left you unable to defend youself. A pity." "I will teach you, then, maigc to help you survive throughout your journey."

"What do you care? You're inside my head and you make me feel hurt when I touch anything to do with fighting. You have brought me nothing but misery and loss."

"You can be of no use to me dead. I require you so that I may see the world. In time, you will thank me for my gift."

Over the next few months, the Word-Weaver taught me the most bizzare magic. It was unlike any I had seen before. It could move things, take you to an empty world where things could be stored, open up holes in one spot that lead to another somewhere else, though those worlds. It taught me this magic, and it was my only defence. But I worked the magic, improved it. I made it my own.

I woke up. I was back in the armory. Standing, I looked down at my hand. No sign of the pain was there, though it had been mere moments since the blade scorched me. That's how it always was...

"Right then, Fenrs... no weapons..."

I went out the door, readied myself for the patrol, and did as I had been instructed.

Nobody asked me to explain the pain I had so obviously felt at the touch of the sword. Each time I arrived, I was given my leather armor. The ones who asked why I took no weapons with me were merely shown the wall and sword, the cracks from the impact, and told: "That is why he doesn't have any weapons. It pains him to the extent where the desire for it to end gives him strength to break stone."

Each time I went on patrol, I went alone. I made sure that nobody saw that magic the Word Weaver had shown me. The last time a military force found out what I could do, they forced me to be a weapon in a war.

On one such patrol, The words came again.

"Stop- to your right. That Tree, that stands alone, apart from the nearby forest."

Upon examination, the tree seemed ordinary, so I went up for a closer look. It was a simple tree, and it looked just like every other tree in the area. The only odd thing about it that I could see was the total lack of other vegetation other than grass within at least a twenty foot radius.

"This Tree is Special. It is Different, like you, it posesses an abnormally large amount of presence for it's kind. It has been touched by the Universe, similar to how the Universe has touched you. Now, though, you will take it and form it into something Else."

"Alright then..."

Then, useing what I call Yiranri, I set to cutting the tree. Rather than using a sharp edge to cut something, as I had none, it would apply immense amounts of pressure to a very small space of my choosing, creating a cutting effect. The rough translation is just that: Pressure Slicing. Eventually, the tree was cut down and stripped of bark and brances, lying in front of me.

"Alright then... now what?"

"Use what I taught you to form it into something New. Something you can Use."

"Such as...?"

"It is up to you. Let all the universe guide your hands, without interference from your mind. That is the best way."

"Alright, then."

The Word Weaver had taught me much, and a major part of it was reaching out and touching the Universe, letting my mind leave. No tought would enter my head and all would be silent. Using this technique, I reached out, and rather than take control myself, as I had done before, I let Everything take control. I don't know exactly what happened after that. I awoke to find myself sitting up, with a staff on my lap. It felt good, when I held it. No, not just good. it felt right, as though I should have always had it. It was beautifully carved, with impossible deatils. And as I inspected it, the carvings changed before my eyes. moving from one impossible set of carvings to another, it was almost constantly changing. Then the Word Weaver wrote in my mind:

"It is a good Tool. It will never break, rot, or burn, and none will be able to use it properly other than you, for it is you the Universe has made it for."

"Thank you for guiding me here, Word Weaver. I think I shall call it Rahkunganos."

"It was neccessary. You need not thank me for it. But you are welcome."

Grinning, I set off back towards Metamor, hand clasped onto Rahkunganos.

[Geary]

Awesome! What does the staff's name mean?

[Fen]

The staff's name means Everchange, named as such because it refuses to keep the same details for very long.

[Virmir]

Ooooh, I like the third one with the no-weapons curse/trade off.  That's a twist I wasn't expecting.  The staff though seems like a contradiction to this, especially since it's called a "weapon".  I would remove that word to avoid confusion.

Anyway, looking good and looking forward to reading your next tale.

[Kiba]

That was really epic <3

[Fen]

ah, I hadn't noticed that, Virmir. Thanks for pointing it out.
also, I'm glad you guys liked it!