King's Thorn

Legend has it that during the Mad War, there was a man who proved himself a thorn in the side of Phoenix King Meiliketh the Mad. Though his accomplishments were not as well-remembered as some orchestrated by certain human generals in that war torn era, Vael the Clever was not without pride from the praise he received as an enduring name on the lips of Daeyaran’s elite. Known for his resourcefulness in an age where it was lacking, he fought alongside Prince Amaury’s Glory-Seekers, proving himself as one of the young prince’s wisest counsels. Yet aside from his keen mind, Vael was a good friend and became known for having a set of eyes Amaury himself spoke of as ‘rivalling that of nelri scout, keen as a mean hawk and no braver than one’.

It was because of his friendship to the prince that Vael eventually was bestowed from his royal armourer a blade he quickly put to work and earned him enough dread on the battlefield to warrant caution among those who faced him. All this and more helped him find his noble place in the world, and it was from him that House Noirvyne was born.

Yet despite Vael’s noble efforts in that age, his bloodline would not find the same kind of promise. While his blade was passed down his line of successors in honour of their right as Count of Noirvyne, his descendant, Vael the VI, was nothing like him and an utter disappointment to his given name. Where his forefathers wielded the blade honourably, he had it stored away in the family armoury; pretending it never existed. Some say it was because Vael VI was a pacifist, yet more knew he saw himself as a disgrace of a nobleman in more ways than one and did not want to corrupt the blade with his touch. A belief some were relieved by, hoping that his heir would prove a better, more noble ruler to wield it without dishonour... even if it turned out to be his only daughter. Such was not to be.

When Isabel became the ruling countess of House Noirvyne, when she was asked about her stance on the blade being a keepsake of her family’s symbol of power, she simply waved it away and ordered for it to be smelted down into something more ‘useful’ for her touch. To this end, the fate of the blade was a miserable one, yet rumour has it that it never got that far and has since disappeared into the hands of those who still believe an honourable ruler will take up the Noirvyne name and with it earn the blade as part of its namesake. Yet how this will come about is a greater mystery in itself.

(I may rework on some of this blade's details later on, but for now I don't mind how it is. Comments and such welcome as always!)

Artwork // Lore - © Kristopher P. Love