((OOC is here )) The legends have come down to us over time, of how the first sword mages, their names long forgotten, defended the world from the energy burst released by warring gods. Since then, whispers and rumors of the incarnations of the sword wielders and their magic swords have echoed throughout time, but nothing has been heard of them for two centuries. Now, something has caused the wielders’ present incarnations to awaken, to seek their blades, disguised as insectoid talismans, and to search for the others. There is trouble in the air, but none know where it might be found. The usual overt threat is missing. Still, the call must be answered, and you have only old legends and the urgings of your blades to go by... Adra leaned against the crumbling stone wall, absently stroking the scarab charm that hung from her necklace. It was the same story: another town and still no sign of the lava sword’s master, or any other wielder for that matter. The uncertainty must be driving them by now, causing the masters to seek for one another out or to at least start to research. But although she’d searched in libraries, in farming communities, in witchdoctor’s huts and in pubs, she’d found no one. The wielder of the sword of plasma made a disgusted face. If there truly was something dangerous, they were losing time. And they would not have been called if there was not some lurking menace or imminent trouble. That’s what all the legends whispered. They had to have some idea! She couldn’t be the only one searching. And somewhere out there, someone had the lava sword, whose nature was searching and who had the capacity to ferret out the rest of the swords and their masters. Giving up for the moment, Adra pushed off the wall and started to stalk through the busy town of Kinrashi. Maybe she could at least find a place to get a bite to eat.