Longing for kitcreates
Dirge had been away from battle for too long. Her blade hadn't seen so much as a skirmish in over a month, and it was beginning to make her irritable. She'd been asked to accompany an old friend to a convening of the merchants council as his body guard, and she'd accepted. He hadn't known how long the meet was going to last, but Dirge had never expected something like this to go longer than a fortnight. She'd been wrong, very wrong, and now she was stuck waiting until a bunch of stubborn business men finished quarreling. She'd managed to get this far by reminding herself that she was getting paid by the day, and that once this was all over she'd be receiving a rather tidy sum of gold, but even that trick was starting to wear thin in the face of her battle lust.
As a Bladesinger, battle was everything to Dirge. It was her way of worshiping her god Corellon with her body, mind, and soul. He was the god of art and of warfare, and Bladesingers were the embodiment of both aspects. The clash of battle had always been an irresistible song that thrummed through Dirge's veins. When she was young, she'd watched her brothers spar, and the music of it had called to her, asking for her to sing, to dance along, and she'd eventually succumbed. It had started with the humming Dirge was now known for, and all too soon she joined with her brothers in their mock warfare, turning even their grace against them with her feel for the rhythm of battle. Becoming a Bladesinger had been the most natural choice she'd ever made.
Now though, having been more than a month away from the song, the longing she felt was nearly a tangible ache in her bones. Her khopesh hung at her side at all times, and her fingers tapped rhythms along it's hilt so as not to lose their familiarity with its touch. The blade was not just an extension of her arm, but of her soul, and she felt out of sorts for having gone so long without using it to cleave through anything but air. She needed to dance through battlefields, painting the earth with blood, filling the air with the sound of her death songs. It was why she'd become an adventurer in the absence of war, and this job had her praying that something happened before she went mad.
