Xerisp, The Spear Of Mhirriah

A Labor of Love

Mhirrah woke in a strange land. She opened her eyes to see the blue sky, and felt clean , lush, grass brush against the skin on her back as she shifted. She stood up and found herself on the green plains of Mhirriah, though she didn't know it. She looked and saw Mhirria's Spear lying on the ground in front of her.
Why wasn't it glowing? She though. She heard the clash of metal in the distance, picked up the spear and began to walk. The land was beautiful, quite different from the Island of Ozlith. She came upon a holl, and when she climbed to the top, she witnessed a massive battle. The tribes of the provinces all practicing war to hone their skills for the demonic tide. She stood there a moment, unsure of what to do. It was the first moment of hesitation she'd felt since she received her first vision.
"Goddess... Mhirriah... preserve me and grant me your strength." She spoke her prayer aloud, mastering the courage to proceed. The spear was not responding to her, that would be a problem... but not one that she would let stop her. She decended onto the battlefield calmly, as the tyrants taught her. She surveyed every combatant that crossed her eyes as the Matriarchs taught her. Some of the fighters below noticed her, and ceased their fight to watch her as she moved. Some even walked to meet her. She took in the smell of blood and the sounds of warfare and smiled as the butchers and painters taught her, and then she noticed a group of hooded figures, men and women she later found out were druids. She remained silent, doing what she could to intimidate any who would attack her as the widowers taught her. She promised herself she wouldn't shed a drop of blood outside of self defense as the angels taught her. More and more ceased their fight and rushed to surround her. They marveled at the spear she held, some shedding tears at what the moment meant. Some named her messiah, others screamed the word heretic. She didn't understand either statement. When enough had gathered she pointed the spear out, turning in a circle to show that her gesture addressed all. She performed for them, gave then a spectacle to write in the legends that surely would be written of her glory as the leviathin taught her.
"I am Mhirrah, Chosen of Mhirriah, and I have come to take you home."

The spear of Mhirriah is an artifact kept by the matriarchy of The Mhirrian Faith. They have secured it in the ice spire, where the body of their goddess is held.
The spear is made of Ozolithian Mold, with a black head and wooden pole. A white spike is placed at the base of the spear.

The spear was built by the gods of ozlith and given to Mhirriah on the eve of her coronation. It was a gift she valued more than anything else and it gave her many abilities.

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Mhirriah was quite fond of spears even in her youth. She was never seen them battle without one firmly gripped in her hands. Bard's have regaled crowds the world over on her grace and unique methods of using the weapon. It makes sense on how she is considered the Goddess of Spears. On her 21st birthday, the seven gods of Ozlith came to one of the very few agreements they had ever come to in their entire time of worship. Each God came together and fashioned single piece of a weapon, and a matching piece of armor to go with it. The armor was easy enough as they simply took a single item often worn by their respective Centurions. This armor will come to mark the young goddess and became a symbol that the foretold Messiah must also wear as proof of their station.
The spear was another matter entirely. For what gift would best fit such a queen. Each of the seven gods have their own preferences on the weapon that should be wielded, and the individual pieces that would make up the finished product.
It was The Red Maiden who spoke on the empresses behalf, and proclaimed with authority that a spear would be the ideal Choice as it is the weapon she has the most passion for.
The gods were in agreement as they could not argue with their sisters professional opinion and each went to work on their respective piece.


The Matriarch created the handle using leather cured by her own hand. She also felt that the empress would need a weapon besides spear. On the leather strips that would wrap the handle, she marked in enchantment it would transform the spear into a Gladius, the weapon often used by the Centurion Legions. She gifted her the battle skirt worn by The Matriarchs Legion as a symbol of their allegiance.
The tyrant had a similar idea. He was responsible for the procurement, shaping, and finishing of the wood that would best serve as a handle. Unaware of the matriarchs addition, he Enchanted the handle to turn into a Gladius resembling that to the his own Legion used. He would also gift her the gauntlets worn by The Tyrant's Legion.
Gehova, being a God of Justice and peace, refuse to take part in the creation of the weapon instead chose to create the means with which the weapon would be put away.
Using the preserved flesh of Ozolithian Mold, he created a harness and sheath that would cradle the spear when not in use. The the alabaster flesh would keep the tip Sharp and prevent any degradation from affecting the weapon. Additionally he granted her the sash worn around the waist of a centurian in The Alabaster Legion who had fallen in battle as a token of their allegiance.

The Deep was unsure of just what it could add to the weapon. It was a god of the sea, and found it difficult to imagine the use of such a weapon on the waves. He took a shell from the deepest part of the ocean and tied it with twine from a fallen vessel. He didn't search the ocean for many weeks, hoping to find the most menacing predator of his domain. He lamented at the fact that the most fierce Beast had already been slain. The Legion of the Deep killed the leviathin and so The Deep traveled back home. Rummaging through the ocean floor he found a tooth Left Behind from long ago when the Leviathan was slain. He's shaped it just right adding an enchantment that would change the spear into a trident should it be needed. This tooth would be fastened to the bottom tip of the spear.

The Widow spun a web created from the very fabric of life and death itself. She knew that such a bond between Polar Opposites could never be broken, and use this web to create the thread that would hold everything together on the spear. As a token of her Legions loyalty, she gave the chest plate of a fallen widower.
The Mad God was next. He shaped the head of the spear from a core of Ozolithian Mold, knowing it would cut through almost any substance and would never shatter. Along with the enchantment to transform the spear into a jagged blade, he also did something no one expected. He traveled the world and search of a dead soul, one that have been forgotten and left behind in the world. He found many about their minds were gone and he felt they may have been dishonest. Eventually he came across the soul of a dead goddess. The goddess was far from where she should be and he offered her freedom and safety. Whatever bargain they struck seal the sole of the Goddess into the head of the spear, giving the spear consciousness that could the empress's hand. It was then that he decided the name of the spear would be that of the Goddess within it. As a symbol of his Legions loyalty, he granted the empress with boots worn by a butcher.

The red Maiden looked at the spear and found she had little to add. As with many things, she was the last to make her addition. She held Us in her hands and found the balance was perfect, the entire spear was built with an expert precision. She held it to the Sun and saw the soul of the Goddess Flash and cast its light upon her. It was then that she shed a tear. What a cold and heartless weapon we have created, she thought. She was afraid that the empress wouldn't like it. There was no love in this weapon and while it certainly came from the hearts of everyone involved in making it, it was nothing but a tool for her to use and was made purely out of ceremony rather than the love they had for her.
She thought about what she would do while sitting on the ground with the spear laid across her lap. She heard the goddess has a voice in her head but paid it no mind at first. When it became far too difficult to think she finally addressed it.
Can I help u? You want to convey your love for the young empress.
Perhaps if you show me the passion you represent I may very well be able to convey it.
Thread Maiden stood and parted the tender fold between space and time. They entered her domain and the maiden through the spear with Mighty Force into the red oceans of blood that surrounded her black sand shores.
The spear sank Deeper and deeper. It drank of the blood and found that the blood drank of it in kind. The spear felt itself being called back to shore it was unable to resist the maiden's hand. When it flew from the viscous waves, it had transformed. Spear was solid and it's wood bearing a faint red hue. The goddess within was ravaged and the Maiden held her. They shared a moment, as sisters... as kin...
The maiden was overjoyed. Sigils etched in blood Staind the tip of the spear. This was to be the maidens gift, passion itself. The empress will be able to wander the battlefield and feel the life and death all around her. She would call forth the blood of her enemies and set them against their countrymen as a punishment for raising a hand against her.
She would call for the blood of her allies whi fell in battle to give them a chance to serve once more seeking Vengeance against those who took them from her.
A mighty gift indeed she said.
The other gods left it to the maiden to bring the spear to the empress and she did so in Theatrical fashion. In the Royal Bath's on the eve of her birthday the water's turned red with blood. The empress tried to flee unaware of what was happening. She was Pulled Under by some invisible force flipped around until she was unaware of which direction was up. she spun around and found herself rising from the sheets that Grace the bed of the maiden herself. She felt her passions and felt the God's love.

She was paralyzed wrapped in the hair of the maid and she clutched the spearing her hand. With what she could only assume was a smile from the maiden towering above her, she was reminded that she couldn't breathe. She plunged back down into the sheets and was again submerged in blood. She shot up from the surface, once again in her own private bath. The spear jutted from the water and the maidens hand rested on the hand of the empress who gripped the spear firmly and begin to pull.
There was resistance as if the spear didn't want to go. For every fraction of an inch that the spear Rose from the water do to her struggle, the blood turn to water from the outside of the bath moving in. The condensed directly at the tip of the spear and when the tip broke the surface she was again in the calming Waters of the bath.
I am Xerisp. It is a pleasure to meet you.