Ah, Uviga. It is good to see you, old friend. We have not yet had a chance to speak heart-to-heart. It seems like no sooner had I seen you I was plunged into danger, with no time for pleasantries or reunions.
No, friend. You were right to hurry. We can hardly allow this opportunity to slip through our fingers. I would still be in the tomb, were circumstances different. As it is, I was forced to return because of my injury.
Quite a sight, is it not? I assure you, before my companions worked their healing magic upon me, it was far more gruesome. As it is, the green and purple putrescence which surrounds it turns my stomach. Surely, the abomination which gave me this wound passed to me some horrifying disease, which must needs be cared for before I may venture once more into the crypt. But I am getting ahead of myself. I came here to ask you something.
This blade; Do you recognize it?
Indeed, I thought as much. If it is — as we suspect — the sword of one of Sarenrae’s Sunguard, then you are doubtless correct in believing this is the tomb we seek, for only in that tomb were the knights of Sarenrae ever buried.
Alas, I found it in the bony grasp of one of Urgathoa’s skeletal champions. I fear that all the bodies of the Sunguard have been corrupted in this manner. It frightens me, for I heard the monster speak. It’s voice is dry, like crumbling parchment or the grating of sand. Its words were vile, dripping with hatred for all that lived. Whatever virtue those noble warriors once possessed has been turned against the forces of good.
Yet there is still some virtue and holiness in the sword. I felt it. Once the corpse was slain, I was drawn to this blade, inspired to pick it up for reasons beyond my ken. When the ghoul that gave me this wound struck me, I was frozen by some demonic force, and I swear it was this blade which freed me. It woke something deep within me, which gave me the strength to finish the fight.
Yes. My companions said so as well… but I do not believe something needs be magical for it to be sanctified. It is the idea — not the item — which is sacred and powerful. The dream in which I saw Qadim showed me many spears, not just the one I bear now. In that dream I saw that the physical shell of Qadim may break or be cast away or even sold in times of need, but the holy vision of Qadim which Sarenrae instilled within in me can never be shattered. So it is with this sword. I can feel it in my heart. You may scoff if you must, Uviga, but I do sense something special and holy about this sword. It rests in my hands as if it were Qadim’s brother. These two weapons were meant to be together, my skeptical friend, and I will always bear the spirits of both these weapons in my core.
You still do not believe me? Then observe, for I will show you that my faith in Sarenrae has once again been rewarded. See how this wound upon my hand festers? A shambling assemblage of rotting flesh gave it to me. When I returned from my expedition, I wished to seek a healer to tend to it, but a little voice in my soul stopped me. If I am truly a chosen conduit for Sarenrae’s love, then my faith in Her shall knit this fragile flesh together.
… By the sun and sand… Did you see that Uviga? Do you not now believe? I asked for Sarenrae’s mercy, and her song swelled up within me. Did you see that Uviga? I asked for her light to be with me, and it came and rested on my hand! You cannot doubt any longer; This sword is a holy thing, given to me by the goddess herself.
Yes, such a fine weapon does deserve a name, and name it I shall. From henceforth, it will be called Khalid, or eternal. For no matter if it and it’s sister-spear are lost or destroyed, their spirits shall be forever in my heart.