The Destiny of Kord
Paths to Glory
Bearers of the Blade.
24th Flamerule 472KR, Hall of the Sunset, Kordova.
Lando Calraesa, late of Westgate City on the Dragonmere (and oddly now ensconced in the Hall of the Sunset, Westgate District in Kordova) pushed open the door of his upstairs room with weary arms and made his way somewhat unsteadily inside. Kicking aside the remains of a plate of food and more than one empty clay jug he sank onto his pallet bed, lethargy, and several too many cups of rich, fruity red wine rapidly catching up with him. His scuffed boots, meant more for the cobbles than for rough hardened lava, followed the mess into the corner, as did his sweat stained shirt and other accouterments.
Only when he went to un-clip his worn leather sword belt and sheath did he bother to display any care regarding his nightly routine. He half drew Falcon, smiling somewhat foolishly to himself, and admired the blade in what seemed to him now as an almost ritualistic fashion. He knew every curve, every embellishment, every inch of Falcon's delicate razor sharp form, the rapier as familiar to him as the contours of his own hand.