ENTRY 006: SILENCE IS GOLDEN

Dear Diary,

I’m starting to understand why so many swords are found at the bottom of lakes. It’s only been a few hours since I first saw the Blade of Eternal Valor, and I’ve never wanted to hurl a sword into the nearest river more.

Usually, when someone walks into the shop looking too eager to part with something, I know I’m in for trouble. Today, trouble came wrapped in cloth and carried by a sweaty adventurer who looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

The man practically threw the item onto my counter, a long bundle wrapped in what appeared to be an old bedsheet. “Sword,” he grunted. “Magic. Rare. Take it. Now.”

That was a tempting sales pitch. Naturally, I was suspicious. “What’s wrong with it?” I asked, eyeing the bundle. The man insisted nothing was wrong but refused to look me in the eye.

Curiosity got the better of me. The runes etched into the handle peeked through the cloth, and although I failed my Rune Reading classes back at the academy, I knew enough to recognize a high level of magic. Against my better judgment, I paid the man twenty gold. He snatched the coins and bolted before I could even unwrap the thing.

The moment he was out the door, I removed the cloth. That’s when the sword started talking.

“Ah, finally! FREEDOM from that dreadful, muffling prison! I am BLADE OF ETERNAL VALOR, destined to smite EVIL, inspire GREATNESS, and speak WISDOM to those worthy of wielding me!”

I dropped the sword, startled, and it landed on the counter with a clatter. “Gently, please!” it protested in a dramatic tone, like it was all a poorly-acted play. “Now, let’s discuss how you’re going to display me. I’d recommend something elegant. Perhaps with a velvet backdrop?”

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The sword wasted no time launching into endless speeches about honor, destiny, and what have you. It didn’t care that I wasn’t paying attention; it kept going.

I tried wrapping the cloth back around the hilt to muffle the noise. “You cannot silence justice!” the sword declared.

For hours, it refused to stop talking. It commented on my inventory (“This goblet is beneath your dignity”), insulted the broom (“A servant, but without honor”), and even tried to rally a disorganized pile of items into some sort of militia.

And the sad thing is, this sword wasn't even a good weapon. I gave it an old college try, and it kept giving me unwanted tips ("Hold your arm higher! Aim at the center of mass! Let me hear your warcry!").

By midday, I was thoroughly exhausted. The shop was empty—no one wanted to stick around with a sword yelling about valor—and my ears felt like they’d been through a battle of their own.

I bundled it back into its cloth cocoon and put up a hastily done sign outside my shop: “BARGAIN SALE! Enchanted Sword That Inspires Courage. Only 10 Gold.”

Not fifteen minutes later, a fresh-faced adventurer came in, the kind with more optimism than sense. He spotted the bundle, read the sign, and his eyes lit up like a festival bonfire.

“Ten gold, that's it?” he asked, barely able to contain his excitement.

“Special deal,” I said smoothly. “Perfect for someone embarking on a heroic journey. Trust me, it’s… very motivational.” Thankfully, Korgath was there to play along and he told the lad that this was indeed the sword that defeated him.

Before the talking blade could say anything to betray me, the adventurer handed over the coins, slung the bundle onto his back, and marched out.

As the door jingled shut, I allowed myself a loud sigh. Sure, I might’ve passed the problem onto someone else, but isn’t that what pawn shops are for?

Here’s hoping the poor lad doesn’t open the bundle until he’s halfway through his quest.

Yours in profit,

Garren