He was just a lad in the height of his youth, trying to survive the harshness of his life. They hid it well, hoping that it would be lost to the world of man forever.Īnd so it was until the day when a young man happened upon it.īorn to a peasant mother who was known to despise and resent him, he was nothing remarkable. For years it lay fallow in the heart of the darkest forest of Britannia, unseen and unknown, and protected by a spell that would allow only one person of special birth to draw it forth from its resting place. Fearful of who would one day command its magic, its owner sent it out into the world with a sole guardian who imbedded it deep into a boulder. Those who sought to destroy this sword, only to learn that nothing forged by the fey could be destroyed by mere mortal hands. Nor could it be defeated.īut as with all things of great power, there were those who feared it.
So long as a man wore it strapped to his hips, he would never bleed. Even the scabbard that protected the sword was special. Imbued with their power and nurtured by the soul of the goddess Britannia, the sword was said to grant immortality and superhuman strength to any who wielded it. Long ago in a land that was lost in anarchy, there was an enchanted sword that had been forged by the hands of the fey.
