Fang walked in the tunnel completely bored. She didn't find not one gembound that spoke the language she did. As she walked she stumbled across something that almost made her trip. She looked, and was shocked. It was a slightly curved sword, in a sheath with weird markings on it. Something about this sword, felt right. She stared, as if a piece of her heritage was missing. She removed the sheath, to find a rusty silver sword inside. No way. It looked awesome.
Xevir walked along the tunnel, when her eyes saw a small dog marveling at a sword. She greeted the dog, saying her name. "Hi! My name is Xevir. Who are you and what are looking at?" Xevir could see it was a slightly curved sword. She lowered her head, and put her nose to the sword. She intended to use hindsight on it. To see into this object's past. She was still listening to the dog, but also focused on the sword. Why did the dog find it so cool?
A cloaked figure stood their ground against two other gembounds, grasping an elegant, silver sword tightly in their claws. The rust was gone and its curved blade, now sharp, was wet with blood. The figure wielded it with the grace of a mastered swordsman, even as they trembled from fatigue. Around them, where the bodies of others, slain by the weapon. The last remaining two, a purple, six-legged, panther-creature, and a black, alien theropod, circled the figure like wolves around a campfire, waiting for the moment to strike; only held at bay the sword.
The figure's visage was hidden in the shadow of their hood, but their four, glowing, orange eyes peered out, glaring intensely. Bared teeth glinted in the light. Blood soaked through their tattered cloak from a grievous wound.
Neither were backing down.
Suddenly, the two gembounds lunged. A hiss, a rush of claws, a flash of teeth, sharp sliver. Blood splattered on the wall. Throat slashed, the theropod collasped. Then, the figure spun around and caught the leaping panther-creature on their sword, driving it through its chest. A gargled screech filled the air. They slung its body to the side with a sickening thud.
Battle, hard-fought, there was no one left standing but them.
Panting, they dropped their arms. The sword clattered on the ground.
The cloaked figure clutched their wound, and dropped to their knees. Then, they collapsed. Blood pooled out from beneath them. They would never get back up.
@Xevir