Exton

The blade Tannr offers Ob is exquisite. The Gargoyle examines the wide blade and swings it one handed, gauging its balance. Ob bows to Addley, then asks Tannr to hold it for a few moments.

Removing the band from his hair, Ob tugs his T-shirt over his head and shakes out his multihued locks. Tori folds his shirt and steps back as Ob begins to sing. The words are almost intelligible, yet somehow not. The tune dances up and down the scale, each note smoothly blending into the next. Heads turn to watch as the scar on his chest begins to glow. The light lifts from his chest, pulsing in time to the music. His large hands seem to wrap around the light and he pulls outward. The song continues, now punctuated by short breaks for breath. The glow intensifies and Ob sweeps his arms out in a wide arc. The song ends and he stands, head bowed, covered in a sheen of sweat. The light fades slowly, coalescing into the curved blade of a scimitar. Ob raises the blade to his lips. He kisses the blade's surface and lays it in Tannr's arms with the panga.

He again bows to Addley. "Allah's Light welcomes the company of your dark bladed machete. May they dance sweetly and sing in harmony."

Turning to his sister, Ob kicks off his sneakers and slides out of his jeans. At the sight of a few raised eyebrows, Ob gives a rakish grin and murmurs, "You should see my brother's sword. It's much bigger."

Tori rolls her eyes and folds his jeans as Ob concentrates on changing into another form. He kneels under the pain of a forced change but the Gargoyle is damned if he is going to be caught in flesh as he crosses the Veil. When he stretches out, his body is covered in glistening scales. Dragon wings snap out from his back and his wild mane has twisted and curled into multi-hued horns.

Moments later the Dragon Gargoyle has lost the vibrant coloring as his body continues to fade into the earthen tones of stone. Hands of gray and brown reach out and lift the blades from Tannr's arms. Ob concentrates, focusing on his form, and scaled loops shift to hold the blades. Scimitar and Machete secured, Ob relaxes as the others turn back to stowing their gear.