Gearwulf - Ancient Blade and Apollo Arlox's trademark weapon
Apollo seethed with anger following the recent mission with the traitorous Shenwa soldiers. The lack of justice exacted by the King only fueled the rage that burned inside. Those bastards should be wiped off from the face of existence and, instead, they’re only going to receive a mild talking to due to the top-secret nature of the mission. He had to blow off steam before he blew up at a superior…again.
The Armory of Ashforge was a decent walk away from the barracks but Apollo made it there in no time, hIs mind focused on one thing. Find yet another sword, another shield, another set of armor and hit something…hard. He was aggravated not only by the injustice that had taken place but also that he had been stripped of all his armor twice in the last few weeks by something related to those cowardly excuses for a house. He arrived to the double doors of the armory and thumbed the holopad release. The door hissed open and the over-head lights turned on automatically. Some were dim, others didn’t turn on at all, but there was enough light to find his way around. After [[Hildebrandt Database Entry 280: The Fall of Galdera | Hildebrandt Database Entry 280: The Fall of Galdera]] all the scavenged ashblades, armor, and miscellaneous weaponry was transferred here. The walls were lined with plasteel containers and crates full of Hildebrandt gear. Apollo wasted no time in re-outfitting himself with a replica of what was taken.
After latching the clasp of his shield to his arm he began to make his way to the crates containing the ashblades. The floor creaked under his weight. He marveled at the ancient carpentry. His whole life he had walked on either solid ground or metal decks of ships and and castles. A wooden floor was foreign to him and he felt as though he was hundreds of years in the past. One of the boards shifted under his weight. He looked at the board and noticed some of the fastening screws weren’t in place. Kneeling down next to it for further examination, Apollo discovered the board to be removable. He wedged his fingers between the fine edges and pried upwards loosening the board from the floor. Beneath was a long thin box laying on a bed of straw. Roughly a meter and a half long.
The box was old, he could tell, as the paint on the sides had almost completely flaked off. There was gold symbols embedded into its design to accent the golden facets on each corner of the box. Whoever had hidden this here must have been of wealth or importance. He attempted to undo the latch on the horizontal separation of the two halves. Locked. He forced the latch and, without much effort, the ancient wood gave way to his immortal strength and the latch broke inward into the confines of the container. He opened the box, though, slower than normal as if to savor the moment of his discovery. The over-head lights flickered as he completed his process revealing a pristine relic. A timeless work of art.
The sword’s hilt was mixture of plasteel silver and gold artistry. On one side of the hilt an engraving of a female’s face. No doubt a previous lord or noble of House Hildebrandt. On the other a wolf with a spear in its jaws. The scabbard was painted a bright white with only two gold accents. One halfway down the scabbard and another reinforcement at the tip. Down the length of the scabbard he made out the letters G E A R W U L F. His time with the keepers in his youth allowed him the meaning of the historic dialect. The name roughly translated to “Spear Wolf” or “The Wolf’s Spear”.
He grasped the hilt and slowly unsheathed the blade admiring the beautiful engravings down its length. Fully unsheathed the blade let off a satisfying ring that echoed through the room for what seemed like forever. It sang to him and to Apollo it was better than any song a symphony could re-create. Its weight was light, lighter than he expected, at least, for a weapon with a fixed edge. He gave it a swing to test its balance. The blade glowed white hot as it passed through the air. As its momentum stopped so did the bright white glow. He swung it again and again it lit up the room with its white glow.
Apollo figured that someone of knowledge may want to see this blade. He quickly sheathed it and began to stride out of the armory, the doors hissing closed behind him. Perhaps Markavious or Barrus would know more about this weapon. If not them then surely Atlas would have at least seen it at some point. Regardless he aimed to keep the weapon. It seemed to speak to him on some degree. He felt destined to wield it.
His enemies would know the wrath of Gearwulf.
“Once the wolf has found its prey, the god of death is close behind.”
-Unknown Hildebrandt Keeper