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You begin to raise your sword the very moment the specter of your youth meets your gaze. They have already begun to charge and no sooner than the last breath before their blade comes arcing down do you manage to square your footing and brace to resist. In your once-eye you catch a glimpse of a hardness whose softening was hard-fought, the glint of edges long since worn away.

The struggle takes on a forceful, thrumming rhythm, the landscape parts around you as you retreat across open plain. In the near distance you see a towering stone stair and at the top of the stair stands a lone roomless door. Once you are backed into its weight, though, you find the door yielding. You tumble back through a portal powerfully enchanted to disorient and disarm.

Thus stripped of weapons you make with yourself an as yet still anxious truce. Only now that peace is reached are the hooded figures again revealed.

They offer you an armory to choose from for the new quest they bestow upon you.

Ask Your Own Sword Be Returned

What will you do?

Choose Another