The Blade of Holy Judgement

[Gryphon the Pure]

The rustling of papers invaded Stiltzkin's dreams. It had been a long while since he himself had taken a weapon to the field of battle, and ever since then, his life was filled with papers. He was distracted so much by his imagined rustlings that he could not distinguish the sound of his briefcase sliding off the table and scattering his maps across the floor. His dreams continued as they were then gathered up again, packed silently away, and sent out the half-high door on a hanger.It must have been some strange twist of fate that he only thought to secure the cabinet after his latest encounter with the Mog heir, for had he left it unlocked, he would have awakened the next morning with none the wiser as to the perpetrator of his midnight burglary. In fact, he had locked the cabinet several times over, but any rogue worth half his salt could pick any lock you could buy. It was the last defense which roused the aged warrior from his sleep, for he had welded the hinges on the glass case so they would not budge for any. The burglar's only resource was to shatter it.It's amazing how quickly one can recall his training when given proper incentive. Stiltzkin slid out of bed with expert grace, wrapping himself in his night-gray bedsheet and tip-toeing toward the office door. Lucky he had left it slightly ajar, for the noise from the latch would surely have betrayed his awareness. He still needed a weapon, and it was a shame he hadn't thought to keep one by his bed. He noticed a pair of nails in the wall by the door, used to hang a towel or robe. With a flap of his wings and a light kick of his feet, they were in his hands. He fell silently and scooted to the edge of the doorway to listen for an opening. The cabinet was on the same wall as the door, albeit on the other corner, so unless his attack was instantaneous, he would be immediately sighted and neutralized.The sound of breaking glass was gone now; the thief had cleared enough away to take the weapon. Stiltzkin heard the scrape of clean metal on polished wood and knew in a moment that this would be his only chance. A rogue would be prepared to be noticed, and would have weapons to quickly stun or kill anyone in his way, but the halberd would be too unwieldy for only one hand, even with most of its pole removed. Moguo, who undoubtedly was behind this, would have made it clear that none were to touch or use the Halberd but him. In order to attack, the thief would first have to drop the weapon; in other words, the reaction time so terribly necessary for the theif's counter-attack would be severely hindered.The grinding stopped; the halberd was now in the thief's hands. Stiltzkin kicked the door open and in one smooth motion somersaulted through the door and let fly the first nail straight toward the Moogle's heart. As he spun to face his victim and loose the second nail, he realized his mistake.Time froze.The nail had not penetrated the soft fur and thick skin of a moogle; rather, in the same place were a pair of slender limbs. Either Moguo had stepped outside racelines for his hirelings, or it was not the Mog heir at all who wanted this most precious of weapons. As the blade of Holy Judgement sped toward him, he made his decision. The second nail flew and the world went dark....Some strange twist of fate indeed. Scion of the Mog Kaiser