I was being pushed into a cellar brutally by the guards. The shackles that suppressed me was still on on. I calmly found a corner and huddled there.
After one day, as expected Ralph came bumbling in.
"Look what I have here. If you still have hope that your master will save you, it's better to drop it now," Ralph boasted while showing off the sword he held with his gloved hand.
The appearance of the Sword of Fate had been recorded down in details. There were even several drawings of the Sword. It's not an extravagant sword, with not a single jewel decorating the pommel or the sheath, as some people might expect. It looked even like a practice wood sword, plain in every direction with not one gem adorning it. The special thing about the sword was that the grip of the sword and the sheath were made from a five hundred year old tree.
