Artifacts & Weapons of The Herod

Chapter 2: The Nectar

 

"The Nectar was cold in her veins and quickly rushed through her system as her brain's activity decreased, releasing its endorphins in the belief that she was dying. “Zauxlia,” she whispered as her body went limp."

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Chapter 10: The Purist Guilt:

 

The photo showed an intricately carved winged serpent swirled in the shape of the letter ‘S’ at the center of a square token.

Chapter 11: Signed in Blood and Strife:

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 "He pushed passed his fear and grabbed the sword in its scabbard, unhooking it from Reaver’s belt, fascinated at the unique painting of one of the Horseman of the Apocalypse, War, striding away from a burning planet Earth, the image of the purple sword, Strife, raised high in the horseman’s hand. The handle of the sword was smooth, blackened human bone wrapped in grey strands of hematite in an interlacing figure eight pattern."

 

"The hematite fed into etched hair that crowned the head of an elderly version of the horseman on the sword’s hilt. Parted in the center, the hair twisted into the left and right laterals that were shaped into human hands of the sword’s hilt that ended with mother-of-pearl egg-shaped orbs. The dark forehead led to eye-sockets which held two purple translucent stones that swirled with dark purple clouds inside them."

 

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Chapter 21: Everyone Dies:

 

“...he unsheathed a red-bladed Egyptian kris dagger. The blade hilt was inlaid with carvings of the birth and terror-reign of the Egyptian lion goddess, Sekhmet."

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"She is encrusted with highly radioactive uranium wrapped around a large, sharpened, carbonized ruby. The lining of the scabbard protects us from the radioactivity but when I pull it and use it… deadly."

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Chapter 38: Paladin's Promise:

 

"The swirling galaxies in his irises and the golden rims around his pupils reminded Paladin of stories about a mystic deity from pre-humanity, the god Ptah-Amun, whom he had become fascinated with during his Jesuit studies of antiquity."

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Chapter 38: Paladin's Promise:

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“That’s him!” Creek yelled, pointing at the chrome motorcycle, still looking at the large priest with a crossbow aimed at his forehead.

 

     Paladin rolled down his window dangling his golden, automatic, pistol-sized crossbow, Xenobia, “You need to move, my son. My brothers and I mean you no harm.”

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