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Pick an island, any island
Jaxen earned the day of sleep after the three days of work. Well, not that he called it work, but three days with barely a nap and he crashed as soon as he was home. But not before taking the moment to smirk at the pile of Oriena's discarded clothes. He even picked up the leather pants and held them up to himself in front of the mirror. The tapered legs were too skinny to fit much more than his calf, and despite a tight, narrow ass on himself, there was no way he was going to fit in them. Not that he wanted to, but now he thought about it, he hadn't purchased a new pair of leather pants in ages. Would need to remedy that soon.

Tossing them aside, he crashed in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what happened to the Narwahl tusk that his father's goons confiscated. There was nothing in the news about its return to the Museum, so he assumed it had been sold on the black market. Jaxen wasn't the only eccentric rich kid in the world. Whoever had Maximilian's sword was a lucky bastard too.

That only meant he needed new treasures to replace what he'd lost. Nuada's sword of light was something he needed. A lick your lips, fingers rubbing frantically, tap your chin with nefarious intent kind of need. He fell asleep imagining a glass sword glowing bright in his hands. And as dreams tended to do, he was a bloody master when he raised it against his enemies, laughing all the while at the power it gave him.

When he woke, the sword was first on his fresher mind. He began the internet searches while in the shower, but found nothing useful but folklore and myth. First he had to figure out who the hell Nuada was.

Nuada Airgetlám was the first king of the Tuatha de Danann in Ireland. When he arrived, he led the rebellion against the leader of the natives that inhabited there, but in battle lost a hand, one that was replaced with a magical silver prosthetic. The remnants of the defeated natives fled to Greece and the Tuatha de took up rule of the island. Nuada was eventually killed in battle against the Fomorian king, the Tuatha De's primary enemy, but was avenged by the great knight of his court. It was his great sword that Jaxen coveted, and he drank in every myth and legend that mentioned it. But there was little information on its destiny, other than it was buried in a safe place along with the other three treasures of the Tuatha de Danann.

Other than seeking where it was put to rest, perhaps the best trail was to seek its origins. The four treasures came each from four separate islands bearing great cities: Murias, Falias, Gorias and Findias. A book called "The Four Jewels" supposedly described the location of these origins: The Yellow Book of Lecan (Leabhar Buidhe Leacáin). Written on vellum, it was housed in Trinity College in Dublin. It would be easy enough to visit, and Jaxen made note to search the college's history next. in it, the four islands were described as being in the "great northern sea," which conjured images of ice, narwhal tusks, and warm mead in Jaxen. Each island was also home to separate branch of druids, teaching knowledge, prophecy, and magic. Well, Jaxen certainly believed that. Perhaps there were more treasures besides weapons to find on these islands.

The sword of Light originated on Findias, where ever the hell that was.

"Looks like I'm going to Dublin."

Now. Who to take along for the ride? Oriena? Manix? He'd have to think on it. Needed to be someone fun, that was for sure.

Edited by Jaxen Marveet, Feb 3 2018, 09:56 PM.
"So?" said Loki impatiently.  "This isn't the first time the world has come to an end, and it won't be the last either."
Jaxen +
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