serthica: war & peace

[groundrules]

Clockwork Serthica’s arrival event stretches til around 3 September. You’re welcome to hit up this log or make your own entries. Characters not assigned to a region can still access it, as long as they’re discreet.

Please share cool plot clues via network — and have fun!

WAR & PEACE

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SUMMARY: The Merchant assigns the group to determine if the dead lurk within Serthica’s adversarial halves. Eidris and Minaras hold a summit to normalise trade within Serthica’s elusive Neutral Zone — while a resistance movements attempts to capture Minaras lead figure Arabella. In Eidris, locals must calm a maddened dragon and her cohort and retrieve her hatching eggs. Minaras hosts its eerie civic indoctrination that seeks to extirpate physical and moral decay.


FAIR FORTUNE | SWITZERLAND | EIDRIS: THERE BE DRAGONS | MINARAS: EYES ON YOU

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FAIR FORTUNE

The party at sea is smuggled into Serthica with help from false passport papers secured by their Mouse House companions. The two groups meet at Serthica’s port customs, in time for the Merchant’s private transmission:

”Good afternoon. I salute and thank the efforts of our recent additions. You performed exceptionally.

You will hear Serthica is sundered by war, sickness and irreconcilable differences. In truth, she is likely divided by the interests of those who weaponise fear and manipulate opportunity.

In Eidris, they claim Minaraians are not human. In Minaras, they speak the same of Eidris. Disgust, dismay and paranoia have created a… system of profound physical avoidance. If this is mere fearmongering, it is distasteful, but inconsequential. However… if one of the citadel’s halves has succumbed to the dead, who now know to feign they yet live… this marks a dire escalation. You must study this.

Your transportation beacon sleeps in the holy grounds of Vassarizhia. It will light within months, when the Heart’s clock quiets for its annual winding. You may visit the grounds during the upcoming trade summit.

While in Serthica, your only objectives are to survive until the beacon’s eye opens, and to discover the dead present. I pray but question you will prevail.”

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SWITZERLAND

After a lengthy inspection of their passport papers, the party is steered towards the Sanctuary of Serthica’s Neutral Zone — a vast institute near Serthica’s great clock tower. Here, representatives of Eidris and Minaras assemble at midday for peaceful negotiations to improve distant trade relations.

■ The Merchant recommends mingling to broaden your investigation into Serthica’s dead. Even Minaras leading figurehead Arabella will attend.

■ For peace-keeping, entrants to the Sanctuary must surrender their weapons or allow them to be sealed, if they want to carry them in. Weapons are released on departure. Physical enhancements that characters cannot remove (ex: vampire fangs) are excepted.

■ Those who are unwilling to give up or seal their weapons can head on to Eidris and Minaras.

■ Summit attendants receive badges reflecting their Serthica identities, or can divert the greeting droid and liberate the insignia of a delayed delegation. Higher-ranking badges earns you more lenient treatment and higher security clearance.

■ Eidris attendants receive golden armbands or scarves, those of Minaras dark blue.

■ In bustling halls, officials negotiate grain exchanges, new train railways, the currency exchange rate and the saddening conditions of Mouse House exiles. Alas, if only someone (not them) could help.

■ Those drafted into the talks are toasted with a green, mint-like potion — an unadvertised truth serum intended to keep negotiations honest. The potion’s effects last two to four hours, compelling truth but not speech. But do talk: candour wins answers.

■ Artisans display their finest novelty items in the main reception hall. Aggressively enthusiastic traders seek testers and investors for their wares — potent opiates, goggles that show you the world in 10 years’ time, even detailed plans for luxury teahouses offering droid companionship. Extricate yourself with as much coin and dignity as possible.

SLEEP, CHILD, SLEEP

■ The great clock of the Neutral Zone strikes 18:00, triggering a light three-minute earthquake and the rise of nocturnal Minaras.

■ The Sanctuary loses all electric power. As servants rush for candles, you might notice some native summit delegates behave peculiarly: their eyes look glassy, faces trapped in an expression of comical, exaggerated dismay. Many are frozen in tense positions. Others move in sluggish, uncoordinated and jerky spasms. One might catch your wrist and attempt to speak in staggered, guttural croaks.

■ Lights return once the earthquake finishes. Locals resume regularly and do not seem to have noticed any erratic behaviour.

SLEEP, CHILD, SLEEP
CONTENT WARNING: TERROR ATTACK

■ Starting her speech, Arabella of Minaras calls a tribute for those lost to the great Culling sickness that struck Serthica mere years before. The vigil is interrupted by a fusillade of rifle shots fired from outside, through the Sanctuary’s wall-long windows.

■ The bullets exclusively target Minaras delegates and do not contain gunpowder, but a thickened, pale liquid. Once shot, those wounded experience a hysterical, incontrollable terror and the certainty that their greatest fear is hunting them. Many of the shot delegates develop an instant flight response and seek to claw their way out of the Sanctuary, with no care for whom they trample in their path. This terror lasts 30-60 minutes. Please content warn if you graphically describe your character’s greatest fear.

■ As rifle gunshots die down, a voice from outside introduces the Remembrance coalition, pledging safety if the summit surrenders Arabella.

■ The Sanctuary activates emergency measures: protective magical wards start to slowly reinforce, while attendants risk their lives to return characters’ weapons.

■ You could team up and help Arabella’s few remaining guards to escort her to safety in Minaras. Drop a line if you take this route.

■ Outside, you find the Sanctuary’s grounds have been drenched in a thick fog that barely allows you to see steps ahead. Your senses dull, and you are gradually prone to sleep — while masked men close in with rifles and vicious droid hunting hounds.

■ Help Sanctuary guards take out the assailants — and submit your character for a RNG draw to interrogate a lone captive.

■ Characters who later investigate the Sanctuary can find some of its windows have been very carefully pricked, fissured or even minutely holed, easing the way for attack.

Crawl back to your home base in Eidris or Minaras — you need the beauty sleep.

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EIDRIS | THERE BE DRAGONS

Eidris’s relaxed atmosphere might balm your rattled nerves after the Sanctuary’s disasters. Startled citizens gather to offer you help settling in, while dragons seek you out to curl up and nuzzle.

Eidris is governed by natural order and harmony, achieved through firm etiquette, consideration and reminders to slow down. You can hole up in a room in one of the many abandoned and repurposed villas, or group up to take a whole house. Local technology is a blend of mechanical gears and magic that substitutes fuels. Sorcerers are frequent, boastful and admired.

Dig deeper, and you’ll find the people of Eidris are unwilling to linger on negative experiences and gradually lose memory of them. If queried, many natives have normalised intermittent amnesia, with some using their link to their dragons to stay anchored in the present.

■ Acclimate to your roles in Eidris and enjoy the sweet welcome of neighbourly gifted meals and knitwear and a personal, signed letter of support from king Thivar.

■ Eidris prepares for the rare hatching of dragon eggs, lain by the beautiful fire-breathing Aiva — one of the fewer martial dragons used by Eidris’ military. Two weeks into your stay (around 25 August, forward date at will), word spreads that Aiva’s mate has been deeply injured by a Minaras scouting ship during the 6:00-7:00 overlap period when the two citadel halves are both overground.

■ A panicked, distrustful Aiva collects her silver-shelled eggs from the formal nest quarters, hiding them on the rooftops or in the balconies of tall, dangerous buildings. Several other martial dragons assist Aiva by guarding these hideaways until the young dragons can hatch.

■ Eidris calls back most transport dragons to avoid altercation with their fire-breathing, paranoid brethren. This might strand some riders on the nearest decrepit rooftop, while testy dragons fly by. They don’t initiate attack, but are more prone to warning tail sweeps or light charring, if you come close.

■ Dragon lord Cain d’Ubiq urges riders that can reconnect with their dragons to help retrieve the 1m, 50-kg eggs and deliver them back to the dragon grounds nest before they hatch by sundown — terrorising the baby dragons that wake alone and ripping into local architecture. Other riders are needed to spread a trail of deep incense smoke in the air that can soothe dragons from their outburst. Lend a hand!

■ Characters who enlisted for dragon riding on arrival could be middling riders by this point.

■ Aiva’s children hatch moments before the clock ticks 18:00 and Minaras also surges overground. Characters linked to a dragon feel the birth: first as an overwhelming exuberance, then as an all-consuming and irrational dread that briefly reduces them to inexplicable tears.

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MINARAS | EYES ON YOU

A sharp departure from Eidris’ laissez-faire is watchful Minaras, where citizens obsess with schedules, orderliness and time — as if every second is both borrowed and wasted.

Newcomers can choose between one-person 2.5x2.5m ‘sleep units’ in packed industrial homes, or pool funds to rent small refurbished alcoves that once served as hospital or science halls. Space is a luxury, silence a myth: helper droids constantly fuss after their masters, steam engines cough outside, and the gentle thrum on the streets betrays the current-shifting omnipresence of large Watch ships.

Civic sound systems periodically bleat reminders for citizens to STAY HALE, STAY WHOLE, alongside tips for basic droid care, the latest in scientific discoveries, paid ads and reminders not to park your robotic carriage near hydrants.

■ Quickly learn the ropes of your assumed identity, as Minaraians have a duty to report peculiar behaviours.

■ Watch ships prevent lawbreaking while Minaras is overground. Crime rates spike rapidly when Minaras falls underground.

■ More than violence, Minaraians appear to fear their pocket watch times being wrong, filth and sickness. The smallest cough earns a stern glance and a wide berth.

■ As part of Minaras’ periodic social indoctrination, you are robotically escorted alongside your peers and other unrelated Minaraians to a civic integration centre. Here, you take turns before a mechanical droid sphinx labelled ASCLEPIOS that asks, ”What rots you? and compels an honest answer (this can be emotional, mental or physical sickness, minor or severe).

■ A painless tattoo appears on the back of your hand, listing your Decay (ex: ‘malnourishment,’ ‘a choleric temper’). Others in the indoctrination centre must help you mend through acts of care (ex: cooking you a meal, helping you meditate). The tattoo fades after 72 hours, or once sufficient acts of care have ‘cured’ you.

■ After one week (around 20 August, but feel free to forward date), a transmission from Arabella informs watch, aerial, military and health units that Minaras is changing the daily schedule of its scout ships. The last scouts will now be deployed at 4:15am and return to base by 5:00am.

QUESTIONS

Comments

[thedreamer]

Oh, many people haven't. Don't worry! Now you have, and you've met one.

[ He doesn't really get around to explaining any further than that, whoops. He's distracted, just more interested in his new friend's story than anything else. At the mention of Water Master, Wind Master, and Earth Master, he can't help, briefly, thinking of his old nemesis and even older friend, simply called the Master. Gone now, like the other Time Lords. Not something he likes to speak of often, of course, not like he did in his previous life. ]

800, still young! Oh, I remember being 800. I was so much nimbler, less aches and pains. [ He's joking, though it would be hard to tell from his tone, this is just how he always is. ]

Heavenly Emperor. Oh, now there's a new one for me. Why did you ask for your second banishment? It felt like something you deserved?

[somebadnews]

That line of thinking earns a strange look from him. Sure, he made the first comparison, but it's not where he'd think her priorities would be. Never mind his opinions on 'good' people.

Five has to remind himself that his relationship with Mom was different. He disappeared before he was old enough to do anything about her abuse, but they left her there for seventeen more years. He still remembers how his siblings seemed to care more about finding out she was deteriorating than they did a looming apocalypse.

"What will you do if they aren't?" He might not have paid attention to the particulars of his own job. The most he might do is use it as a cover if he doesn't have time to blink away. "The whole thing is supposed to be for show. Just a way to look like we belong here, we're not actually joining them."

[soloritur]

[ Sometimes paranoia is warranted. Especially here. Marcos has been going along a little too easily with the whole thing, but once he found out about struggling orphans he got sidetracked.

They're near his place now, and he looks both ways before approaching his door and waving him over. ]

What happens if you get sick?

[scrapgege]

I guess I have, yes!

[He's completely ready to take this in stride. As for the second banishment...]

It came at a time when I had just done some... rather terrible things. I was technically pardoned because I helped defeat a Ghost Calamity who was provoking a lot of incidents, but I asked the heavenly Emperor of the time to let me go back to the mortal world instead. I needed... I needed to be away, and to think about what I had done.

To restore my faith in the world that I had almost lost.

[winscenario]

[ Just when he thinks Bones can't possibly surprise him anymore, he catches him off-guard once again. This time he sucks in a slightly more audible breath, not turning it into a gasp by sheer force of will. ]

Well— [ He wets his lips, nudging his leg between Bones's knees, closer to him. ] What's stopping you?

[bravelyrunsaway]

( Not at all winded, just looking invigorated, he quirks a brow at his taller companion. )

Now can we compare swords?

( Which is a jest, even as it's a commentary on how stupid this situation and city is, and how they're in an alley where everything itches under his skin and machines are as populous as living peoples. )

[valeas]

( The muscles of her throat work around a swallow. Emilia doesn't want to think of how close Pride was to owning her soul. How desperate she had been, both in the pursuit of her justice and in her desire to protect the mortal realm once the gates weakened. The only thing separating the realm from the underworld.

Red can see it, though, her soul. She is still the master of it, and she is assuaged. )

That does explain it. I would not have held it against you if you'd run.

( They are strangers, for all that they sense something familiar in each other. )

You do not remind me of somebody else. But you do remind me of some other place.

[thedreamer]

[ He understands better than he lets on right now. Terrible things. Yes. Very familiar. ]

When you live to be 800, it's almost unavoidable, doing terrible things. What's important is understanding what you've done, knowing it was terrible, and doing everything you can to change and do better.

Was your faith restored or is it a work in progress?

[chosenbylight]

Anduin offers his companion the soft twist of a smile, at that. That despite whatever misunderstanding might have just occurred, he knows that Wrathion does not offer idle reassurances. Nor, he supposes in hindsight, would he share quite as much as he has with anyone else but Anduin himself.

He doesn't suppose, knowing Wrathion, that even offering this much of himself is natural. For so much of his life, Wrathion has had very few people he could trust. Or, for that matter, who have trusted him. Anduin supposes that such things do take some time to adjust to. After all, for all that it has felt like an eternity since Ke-Waihu, it has likely only been several turnings of the moon.

"No," he agrees, softly, moving to squeeze Wrathion's hand in return one final time. "It is not."

He forces himself to take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, along with whatever tension he is holding onto.

"Do you know," Anduin says, with a wry twist of humor, "I have been counseled to be more patient on more than a few occasions, by any number of wise advisors and friends. One would suppose I'd have learned to listen, by now."

[blackscales]

He hums in acceptance, thumb rubbing absently at Anduin's shoulder.

"I've never considered you impatient by nature."

Not in most things. Although, admittedly, Anduin has lately had a certain... restless energy about him. Wrathion slips his hand to rub gloved fingers over the back of Anduin's neck instead, trying to ease any tension left there. Inaction is, of course, a difficulty. Anduin struggles to see people suffer when something can be done. Yet in more personal matters, is he truly always this way? He'd been patient enough in Pandaria, tolerating Wrathion's... personal quirks.

"However, tenacity is considered a virtue by the Church of Light -- is it not? You certainly are tenacious."

Like a dog with a bone, Anduin simply will not let go when he latches onto something.

[fushichou]

[Kanesada just looks at the man for a few seconds, then shakes his head with a little laugh.]

Man, you're insistent. At least tell me your name first.

[Because even though it probably isn't for humans, this feels awfully intimate for Kanesada. His sword is him, after all!]

[inferus]

Wrath grows quiet as he listens, and Five does speak on many subjects that he does not understand though he does recognize the potential dangers of using a briefcase in a world without them. He takes a long drink from the glass in his hand until he has finished it, allowing the human alcohol to settle in his stomach though he does not feel its effects.

He fills another glass, appreciating the explanation even if some of it is beyond his understanding.

"I would assume you have also accounted for the fact this world may react differently to your briefcase than your own would, especially given the magic within it and its abilities already to cross between dimensions."

There is a great deal of potential for much to go wrong. He would hope he did not have to tell Five that, however.

He is also aware the beacons alone have not been the answer to returning them all to where they have come from. Nothing is gained without risk, but Wrath has concerns about Five's focus on using a non-magical item with time in a world where magic is so infused, where curses lie around every corner.

[bravelyrunsaway]

( He grins in turn, unrepentant and outwardly seeming somewhat relaxed--just as likely visible that he's still on guard, given those who are fighters are not those who prematurely decide they're safe simply for having managed one running evasion.

He takes a step back, sweeping into a bow with a hand pressed over the center of his chest, a leg planted with bent knee that could in turn lead to action taken immediately as needed, and the leaving of his other hand at his hip, in attendance to his sword. His eyes stay on his current companion's face as he says, with a bit of a wry drawl: )

Licyn Mansbane, love. Well met, and better dodged.

[chosenbylight]

Anduin leans back unconsciously into the touch of Wrathion's hand on his skin. Even gloved, the touch is still warm and gentle and it is doing wonders to ease his tension -- and his mind.

"I am glad that you see things that way. Tenacious does sound much better than stubborn," Anduin replies, turning to flash his companion a smile over his shoulder.

"It is tradition for priests' to name our mounts after qualities that we admire," he says, after a moment of thought. "Tenacity did not occur to me at the time. Though I suppose I might have doomed myself to -- difficulties, if I had."

[fushichou]

[Of course they should still be on guard; this is a new location woth dangers as yet unknown. But that's no excuse to be entirely without manners, even if Kanesada isn't known for being the most proper.

In return of the quite fancy bow he receives, Kanesada simply puts his hands on his waist and bends slightly, not very deeply but enough to observe etiquette.]

You can call me Izumi.

[Which totally sounds suspicious, but he has his reasons for keeping his full name hidden, okay!

But with another glance toward the street, Kanesada backs further into the alley and finally draws his blade, slowly and carefully, so as not to hurt Licyn or draw attention to the two of them. He holds his left arm out and then rests the flat of the blade on his arm before angling himself for Licyn to get a better look.]

Here. I know the light's not great, but you can see the curve for yourself, since you already guessed it.

[blackscales]

Wrathion lets out a low chuckle at that, hand slipping down to squeeze at Anduin's shoulder again.

"Perhaps," he admits, and lets go -- moves around to slip back into his chair and pick up his glass of wine to sip once more.

"Still, if you are upholding the tenets of the Light then surely any difficulties would be worthwhile?"

He sets the glass aside, breaks off a piece of his bread to chew on slowly. In the end, is it not all worthwhile if they achieve their goals?

[bravelyrunsaway]

( "You can call me," is an earmark of its own, and if he felt a need to be bothered over strangers in a strange land having identity screens, he might, possibly, press. Licyn however does not feel so compelled, and in fact simply hums thoughtfully. )

Izumi.

( He says, drawing out the sounds of it: thankfully capturing the right sounds. )

Mm, my eyes are better than you think. ( Lifting a hand, he pauses, quirking a brow. ) May I?

( It's uncertain if he's asking for the blade (in this case, he isn't), or asking to touch down with his fingernail, for the sound and feel and, if he were masochistic in the moment, the cut of it. (He isn't.) )

[chosenbylight]

"As a testament to my faith?" Anduin wonders aloud. He raises his eyebrows slightly, as if to question the thought, before shaking his head, reaching forward for his own glass of wine as well. Realizing he has barely touched it, just yet -- well that will never do.

"Tenacity, Respect, and Compassion," Anduin recites. "Those are the three tenets, the Three Virtues, as you say, of the Church of the Holy Light. It is taught that acting on these teachings is what shall make the world a better place. One of honor, and justice."

He swirls his drink in his cup, glancing up across the table at Wrathion.

"Honor and justice can both be admirable goals," he continues. "But subjective too, given the wrong motivations."

[snowcleave]

"Not if you use that hand," she tilts her chin toward the one in Lethe's mouth before holding out the flask, giving it a little shake.

"Take it. The last of what I brought from home." Fei doubts she's going to find anything as strong and delicious as green plum wine in this place. "Drink it slowly," advice she had been given and not heeded during her first encounter with the liquor, advice she's not sure if Wei Wuxian will bother listening to either, but, at least she can't say she didn't warn him.

[fushichou]

[Licyn doesn't question his name choice, thankfully, which is nice. Less to explain when he doesn't know how much he can trust him.

Even if he's a fellow swordsman, and one who seems to really respect the weapon at his side, he is still a stranger. So when the request comes, Kanesada hesitates for a moment. He could be trustworthy. He could be someone Kanesada would allow to touch him without fear of damage or I'll intent.

But he can't be sure and his true form is too precious to hand over on uncertainty.

His hand tightens on the hilt of his blade and be pulls back a tiny bit.]

Sorry. I'm really protective. You can keep looking, though.

[weifinder]

"I don't know when I'm getting that one back," he says, leaving his free hand available to accept the wine handed over in its flask. He breathes in the scent first, appreciating not just the familiarity of a burn, but the scents of whatever else is in this wine.

Still hard to say, but he wonders... takes a smaller mouthful, more mindful that this is the last of what she has than he is cautious for the drinking. Swallows with the same immediate piety of a man kneeling before his ancestors shows in his bows, and smiles, beams, holds up the jar and declares:

"A very fine wine!" Because comparing it to the ones he aches for most in all these months is no help at all, and it is, indeed and in fact, a very fine wine.

"What's it called?"

Another sip, still careful, seeing as he lets not spill past the corners of his lips and Lethe snorts, eventually spitting his hand out and huffing, before turning to nibble at a scale near the saddle.

[weifinder]

Wei Wuxian's lips twitch up at the you are perceived, finding it amusing for no particular reason he can pin down.

"This or that," he says, companionably enough, "But to start, do you know of any spirits haunting Serthica's rising city itself?"

This banter now with Red's help looking like a gaunt, pale, handsome enough fellow in dark robes of a steampunk variety (it's the accessories, he was amused, and they were presented) talking with a young woman with hair brighter than anything else in these tunnels.

The spirit, blinking slow and laboriously, doesn't answer at first. Then lifts a finger, twitches three, cants its head, continues canting, looks as if it intends to half turn sideways before it comes to a sudden, total stop.

..... No......................... idea. I................................ I. I am!

The train of thought it had appeared to drive on without words, before the spirit trembles, as if stirred back into motion.

Here! Dead, dead, murdered, rude, here. Just....................... here.

[blackscales]

"A problem the Horde has had all too frequently, as I understand it. The definition of honour, and when it does and does not apply."

He lounges back in his chair more comfortably, considering Anduin.

"The Alliance has similar debates over justice, I believe."

Both sides do, he's sure, but the Alliance as a whole is more concerned with justice specifically. With bringing people to justice. With what that should mean -- a trial? Execution? Both?

"Justice and honour can be destructive when not balanced by compassion and respect, so I'd say the church has the right idea there."

[bravelyrunsaway]

( Another silent quirk of his brow, but to each their own sensibility, and so he keeps his touch from landing on the blade, small as that step away becomes. Still, it's his fingers that trace over the steel with that hairsbreadth of distance between even as his eyes follow along. )

Such a beautiful wave pattern... was that part of the process in folding steel, or something in the tempering? Then the white colouration, that's lovely, isn't it?

( tracing back down, toward the tip, head tilting as he does so, dark eyes intense upon the metal. he's listening to anything beyond them, finding the division of attention appreciably simple, all things considered.

after all, one of them already has their sword drawn. The drag of his attention upward again is languorous, involved; he blinks, slow and thoughtful, lips parted, considering what a single bladed sword strike from something of this length, with this curve, means in any given fight. How, in a sense, to deflect it, and the craft that makes a weapon into something beautiful, and not simply something practical.

Though it is, he notes to satisfaction, not bedecked in something as useless as jewels. )

Ah, then this line to the tip, for that final curve... this blade is meant for cutting, on this one honed edged. Two hander?

( He steps closer, aware of where Izumi stands, his tension, any movement that turns this from show to demonstration. Breathes in deeply, catching scent of whatever oil, and was that dry... a powder, or some kind? Last used on the blade, and the hint of what would be hand oils, something different. Not touching still, and tracing upward, to the hilt in his parlance, little more than a decoration just large enough to prevent a blade's easy rush up along the cutting edge of the curved sword, and he hums a pleased note, eyes lingering, appreciating the length. )

No land creature used in that wrapping, but what it is, I can't say. Two handed for certain, look at the length you have for holding. Sharp, fast strikes, is that the way of it? Ah, and here... what manner of creature is this?

[fushichou]

[Licyn doesn't touch, for which Kanesada is grateful, but his fingers are still so close that he can feel the hair stand on the back of his neck. But the questions are interesting questions and ones that he can't help but want to answer, though he tilts his head at the detailed inquiries.]

Your eyes really are good.

[A soft, proud smile graces his lips.]

That wavy pattern is the hamon. It's formed by placing clay on the blade during the hardening process, which affects the strength of the cutting edge, as well as gives it that design.

Yeah, these types of blades are better at cutting. They can still stab, of course, that tip isn't just for show, but you can tell with the curve. When the wielder cuts through an opponent, the momentum and arc of the swing help the blade slide on through and out and not necessarily get stuck. And it's a two-handed sword, though you can use it with one. It just won't be as easy or effective.

[Licyn steps closer and Kanesada breathes in, raising his eyes to watch the other man, to really see just how much he's enjoying this.]

It's skin from a stingray. See how it's bumpy under there? It makes it easier to grip, even under the cloth.

[But he glances down at this blade.]

Hm? Which creature?