The mystic insights delivered to the Wyrmslayers when they first held the sword Mergil
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Surya: felt tendrils of foreign thought touching his mind. Without quite knowing how, he was sure that they came from the sword Mergil itself. In an instant he felt it empathise with him as a warrior, resonating that deep bond that exists only between warriors and swords. But underlying this were two other sensations, undercurrents of emotion coming from the weapon. First is a sense that Surya, while a swordsman, was in some way "wrong" from the sword's point of view; second was a massive antipathy towards the Sword of the Dead Legions. This was unmistakable; Mergil was quite aware of the Necromancer's blade and hated it.
Sack: Distantly, in the back of his mind, he heard drums and trumpets, playing a triumphant march. All at once, a vision enveloped him; he himself, bearing the sword Mergil and armoured in magnificence, leading a vast army (it wasn't quite clear of whom) to victory in battle after battle. Always at the front, invulnerable and indefeasible, he hacked his way into a vast underground throne-hall, where a grizzled Orc king awaited, armed with a dour mace. In an epic duel, Sack threw him down and wrested his bloodstained crown from his twitching body before seating himself on his throne to the adulation of his subjects. Lifting his eyes from his soldiers, he looked across to the back of the hall, where the three Orc elders of his earlier vision smiled, and bowed slightly in grave approval.
Dimly, as this unfolded, he was aware of another set of images trying to make themselves seen to him, but he couldn't make them out with any clarity.
After these had ended, Sack released and re-lifted the sword, and received - as they all did - a less intense version of the same thing. This time, he made a mental effort to deny the heroic images, and reach through to the others; he gained a vague impression of mountains, trees and seashores, which may or may not have been the ones Kobort had seen.
Kobort: He found he was looking at a city from a distance of some miles; somehow, he knew it was the Elven port-fortress of Belegond. It was, however, intact as it was in his day, rather than the ruin it was in this time. Suddenly, he realized his point of view was moving, as if he were flying. Quickly, he passed over Belegond towards the sea; as he did, it transformed itself into a heap of rubble, as it must now be. Accelerating, he hurtled over the ocean, and soon an island came into view. Green and pleasant, it was clearly inhabited; plains to the north were dotted with strong fortresses, the hills in the centre had mines and towers, and the thick forests ringing the hills contained large but graceful cities. Swift ships like white gulls plied the nearby waters. Finally, on a peninsula, he saw a great complex of forgeworks and smithys, clearly the abode of a master craftsman.
Hildraft: He felt a kinship grow between himself and the sword, a shared objective. A vision of a dragon, vast beyond belief - Varkar Barduric, certainly - passed briefly before his eyes, together with a mighty hoard of powerful magic weapons, racks and racks of them. An insight grew, and suddenly he knew why the Dragon collected these things. He believed that if he releases the power enchanted into them - all of them - at once, he will have enough power to make the leap to Divinity. Aside from his own feelings about this, the part of him that was linked to Kord knew that not only did he abhor this possibility, but so too did all the Gods, or at least all the ones Kord was on good terms with. Moreover, Mergil itself was extremely unwilling that this should come to pass, not least because it was well aware that it, Mergil, embodied enough power to enable the Dragon to embark on this plan Right Now.