Mr Sword held up the obsidian sword in front of his face. The blade was perfectly polished reflecting the dwarf’s face. Mr Sword squinted into his reflection through the spectacles he was wearing. He adjused his fake moustache.
“Yes, this is good” Mr Sword brushed his hair and replaced his hat. “No one will ever see though my cunning disguise.”
The blademaster turned the corner and admired the building that stood before him. It was constructed of pale sandstone from the great quarry of Namburg. Above the wide door was a sign “Namburg Sword Museum”. Yes, Mr Sword had come to the right place.
“What can I do for you sir?” the museum clerk asked from accross the counter.
“Admission for one” Mr Sword replied grimly.
“Concession or full price?”
“Full price” Mr Sword slid a gold piece accross the counter. Earlier that day he murdered a merchant and took his gold. Mr Sword’s purse was now pleasantly full.
“Certainly” the clerk handed the dwarf a ticket and a map.
Mr Sword gazed on the slip of paper in his hand. It said “Namburg Sword Museum. Entry for 1”. He was finally here. It was a long road to get there. Mr Sword’s memory was hazy after he fell from the airship during the battle of Hellhest. He woke up on the abandoned battlefield with a grunt. He remembered searching in vain for Shitgoz, Vernodal, Maz, and Frokk. But it was in vain – Mr Sword knew in his heart that they were all dead. The dwarf did not mourn. No, Mr Sword was a creature of murder and not of mouring. Mr Sword began plotting his revenge against Sub Optima. He walked along the road for days until he came across a group of mercenaries. He asked them where Sub Optima was. They told him that many years had passed since the Battle of Hellhest, and that the members of Sub Optima were scattered around Vaul. Why did Mr Sword wake up so many years after the battle? He didn’t know, or care. He murdered the mercenaries with his bare hands, obtaining five new swords as well as a horse. From then, things became easier.
Mr Sword looked at the map in his hand “Namburg Sword Museum. Designed by Swordmaster Camelot”. Yes, Mr Sword was finally there. His revenge was there in front of him. All that was left was to reach out and take it.
Mr Sword stared at the map trying to orient himself. Suddenly a cry sounded behind him.
“I’m Swordmaster Camemot!” a shrill voice yelled.
“Camelot!” Mr Sword spun around into a combat pose.
“Look at me dad, I’m Swordmaster Camemot!” a little human kid pranced around his father waving a wooden sword.
“Sorry about my son” the father apologised, ruffling the boys hair. “Come on Cupcake, let’s go see the swords.”
“Yaaaay Swords!”
Mr Sword stared at their backs as they departed. “I could kill them both with one strike right now” he mused. “No. Patience Mr Sword. It would alert Camelot if I kill them now. Patience Mr Sword – keep the element of surprise. There’ll be time to slice them up later.”
The first room had no swords in it. It just had a portrait of that bastard Camelot, as well as some text.
“I am Swordmaster Camelot. I am old now. You have probably heard a lot about me. I was the first dwarf to see the sun in a thousand years. I traveled with Sub Optima. I killed at least three gods. I lead Clan Skarsnik for many years (now in the capable hands of Drek, grandson of Gritgoz).
This museum will perhaps be the last thing that I’ll be remembered for. And yet it is something that I have wanted since childhood. It is a museum of swords. The Namburg Dictionary defines a sword as ‘a weapon with a long metal blade and a hilt with a hand guard’. And yet, to me, a sword has always been more than that. As you walk and look at my swords, I hope that you also see a slice of my life.
~ Swordmaster Camelot”
Mr Sword spat on Camelot’s engraved name.
The annoying kid was still in the room. It didn’t even seem like he was looking at any of the exhibits. He just waved his wooden sword around yelling inane shit like “I am Swordmaster Camelot”, “Dad, pretend to be Mr Sword and I’ll hit you”, and “Eeeeekskalibur”.
He didn’t even wield his wooden weapon properly. Whenever he struck his father, he used the flat of the sword rather than the edge. In real combat such a move would be entirely ineffective. Mr Sword was about to show the kid the folly of his ways (by slicing his father in half using a real sword), but then remembered that he needed to be discreet for now.
Stepping into the second room, Mr Sword’s heart skipped a beat. There was a single pedestal here containing a single sword. The sword was sleek and black. Familiar astral forces arced back and forth along its blade like waves on a seashore.
It was “Astral Wave” – Mr Sword’s old sword. The one Camelot had stolen from him as they dueled upon the airship. It took all of the dwarf’s self control to stop himself breaking the glass and reclaiming his posession. He read the plaque to calm himself.
“This is Astral Wave. It was not my first sword, nor the last, nor the most powerful, nor the most useful. But it does hold a special place in my heart. It is the one place where I want to start this tour.
This blade previously belonged to one who was called ‘Mister Sword’. He was an enigmatic figure hailing from the astral plane. He travelled with Shitgoz, Clank, Vernodal, Maz, and Frokk. Some would call him evil, and perhaps he was. He tried to kill me on two separate occasions (and would have succeeded if not for the rest of Sub Optima). And yet — despite these things — I believe that he was perhaps the only one to truly understand me. A kindred spirit. The only one to truly understand what a sword is and what it can mean to a man. So, in some sense, this whole museum is for you, Mister Sword.
~ Swordmaster Camelot”
Mr Sword shook as he read these words. The bastard Camelot dared to mock him! Not only did the fucker steal Astral Wave from him, he also dared to put it up on display for everyone to see. And, to add insult to injury, he writes some sappy bullshit about love and kindred spirits or whatever-the-fuck.
“Be still my raging heart” Mr Sword whispered. “I could break the glass now and reclaim Astral Wave. Go on a rampage through this museum, kill everyone. Find that bastard Camelot, kill him too. Claim Excalubur as my own.” Mr Sword’s hand curled into a fist and aimed for the glass. He sighed and relaxed “Not yet. Patience, Mr Sword, patience. We have the element of surprise. Without it, this whole plan fails. No one is a match for Excalibur in open combat, not even Mr Sword. Be still my raging heart. Soon.”
There were two exits from this room. One to the left going to room 3 and one to the right going to room 16.
“Dada, I wanna go to Eekskalibur room!” the kid yelled.
“Now now cupcake. We have to go through all the rooms in order” his father ruffled his hair. “See we’re in room 2 now. What comes after room 2?”
“Eekskalibur?” Mr Sword was ready to kill the kid just for mispronouncing the sword’s name like that. The father shook his head.
“What comes after room 2?”
“This feels like school, dada.”
“What comes after room 2, cupcake?”
“You said this would be a holiday.”
“But cupcake, what comes after room 2?”
“Room 3” the kid answered reluctantly.
“Very good cupcake. And which one is room 3?”
“That one” the kid pointed.
“Very good. And that’s where we’re going, cupcake.” Mr Sword waited for them to depart and walked through the opposite door to room 16.
Room 16 contained two display cases. One of them contained a nice greatsword, while the other a suit of golden armor. Mr Sword recognised the armor from his last battle with Camelot. He approached it, wondering if that meant that his opponent would be de-armored when they meet soon. The plaque read:
“This is the only non-sword exhibit in the entire museum. It is a suit of golden leaf armor from the Feywild. Let me tell you how I aquired this armor:
We were being hunted in the Feywild. Things were grim — the gang had just rescued me from the Black Fort — but we escaped without first retrieving my swords! So imagine that — being the prey of the Lord of the Hunt without a single sword to defend yourself with? So anyway, we found ourselves in the Fey Court. And there something happened — Clink made a deal with the River King to obtain this armour the sword Trasna na d’Tonnta (see exhibit B).While Clink gave me this armour, it is Mesmerelda that I associate it with most. She spent many evenings gazing intently into my polished metal ass. As far as I know, this had something to do with a magic spell she cast for which she needed a shiny polished object. But frankly I am no magician, and am left with many unanswered questions. Would it have been so hard to buy a nice mirror? We weren’t exactly poor. Or else that shield Clink had was pretty shiny — it would probably have worked for the spell. But still Mes always opted to use my polished metal ass? Perhaps there was something about my polished metal ass that enhanced her magics? Or some other reason? I do not know, I am no magician. I suppose that it will be one of these ‘mysteries’ that are left open in this museum.
~ Swordmaster Camelot”
“Hah” Mr Sword thought. “In our group, Maz was always the shiny, polished one. How ironic.”
He walked to the second display case to check out the sword. The display case was actually a little basin, collecting water which was constantly dripping from the sword.
“This is Trasna na d’Tonnta. It is the sister sword of Astral Wave (Mister Sword’s sword in room 1). A fine blade — light, sharp, and able to control the rivers and seas. Without it, Sub Optima would surely have perished in the Korwyn’s lair. But there’s more to this blade than being able to bend waters and summon crabs. As mentioned in exhibit A, this sword was acquired through a deal between the River King and Clink.
What is a deal? The Namburg Dictionary defines it as ‘an agreement entered into by two or more parties for their mutual benefit, especially in a business or political context’. Many deals were made during the travels of Sub Optima. Most of them involved Clink. Most of them resulted in us being in Clink’s debt. Debt and money are tricky things. I’ve definitely made some poor financial decisions (see short sword of fireballs in room 8). I spent much of my travels trying to atone for these decisions, and trying to pay back Clink.
But Clink’s deal with the River King stands apart from other deals for me: He never asked for me to repay him for Trasna na d’Tonnta. This seems contrary to the Namburg Dictionary definition (where is this ‘mutual benefit’ if he just gives me a sword). It definitely made me see things in a new context — I was penniless and swordless, and Clink just gives me a new sword (and a mighty-fine sword too!). So, even though I spend much of our remaining travels trying to pay back other debts to Clink, Trasna na d’Tonnta always reminded me that our relationship was something other than a simple debtor-creditor relationship.
~ Swordmaster Camelot.”
“Huh, reminds me of Clank” Mr Sword remenisced. Clank had obtained ‘Astral Wave’ for Mr Sword via a complex bargain with an extra-planar entity.
“Of course Clank wanted me to pay him back. Clank was super practical, ho ho.” Mr Sword grunted, remembering. He cringed remembering the lengths he went to raise enough money to cover the interest from month to month.
“Good thing the old fool is dead!” Mr Sword laughed. “Killing Clank was probably the one good thing that Sub Optima did. Good riddence Clanky, ho ho.”
The next room actually had a bunch of swords. They were all just thrown onto a pedestal with no logic whatsoever. Coming closer, Mr Sword muttered “Oh wow, these swords are all really shit. One of them is literally made of wood. Camelot must be losing it in his old age”. He read the plaque.
“This exhibit is a collaboration between myself and Gritgoz, the former Hellhest minister of culture. In Gritgoz’s words ‘Cammy, I was the minister of culture, we should make this one really arty’.
So here it is — the only complex exhibition of the entire museum! In the center you see a wooden sword. It was gifted to me by my father, Forgemaster Camelot, and is the only reminder I have of the old dwarf. The wooden sword represents my people — the dwarves — so few in number after the Battle of Hellhest. Arranged around it, you see five scimitars. These are goblin scimitars from Clan Skarsnik. They represent Gritgoz’s people — the goblins — so few in number after the Battle of Hellhest.
The complex arrangement of the swords represent the mixing of our peoples after the Battle of Hellhest. We joined together into a united clan. Under my just rulership, Clan Skarskik overcame many difficulties. We established an uneasy truce with Salt in Wounds. We handled the stampeding deephoofs. We build an entire underground city. Notably absent from this exhibit is the ancestoral sword of Clan Skarsnik. It has been passed on to Drek, grandson of Gritgoz.
In the corner you can see a pint glass. It represents that time Gritgoz and I got drunk and then he asked me about each of my swords and gave me a hug. Probably the best night of my life.”~Swordmaster Camelot
This kind of reminded Mr Sword of Shitgoz. Shitgoz was the leader of their little group back in the day. He was a pretty good leader – always knew what to do. He was good at giving orders “Mr Sword do this”, “Mr Sword kill him”, “Mr Sword stab that”. Those were simpler times for sure. Mr Sword mused at the difficult times after the deaths of Shitgoz, Clank, Maz, Vernodal, and Frokk. After waking up (years after the battle of Hellhest), Mr Sword had to learn to fend for himself. He had to decide who to kill himself without the sage guidance of Shitgoz. Life was tricky.
Mr Sword checked the map. He was in room 19 out of 20. This meant that his goal was at hand. He admired the sword in room 19. It has another huge greatsword with a pulsing gem at the hilt. The dwarf could feel evil energies emitted from it. He read the inscription.
“This is Relentless, the sword once belonging to the Herald, St Etrich. It is one of the most powerful swords in this museum, charged with the energy of one thousand demons. Demons — in one sense the story of Sub Optima was a story of demons. We met many in our travels. I think St Etrich himself was inhabited by one — one of his arms was an eldrich tentacle. How did he get this demonic tentacle? I do not know — I only known about the demons that travelled with us.
Ernodal had such demons. Tarnik, Sovereign, Navigator — they all lived with Ernodal. Some would have called Ernodal a monster because of this. And perhaps he was on some level — but aren’t we all? I once cut off both arms of Nespip shortly before sentencing him to torture. I once pushed Mister Sword off an airship to his death. Are these not the sort of things a monster would do? Ernodal never did these things. Let me tell you the thing that Ernodal did: Ernodal invaded the literal hells in order to let his familiar Tarnik become ruler of it. When has a warlock done something like that for his familiar? And then while we were invading hell, I died. That’s right, Swordmaster Camelot died. And what does Ernie do? He doesn’t ask for riches, he doesn’t ask for the best starter in the world. He asks for me to live again. That’s what Ernodal did.
So here I am – alive again. Changed in some ways – I now have tentacles like St Etrich. But a monster? No, a monster wouldn’t be worthy of Excalibur, and I have wielded that sword. So perhaps none of them were really monsters? Ernie certainly wasn’t.”~ Swordmaster Camelot
“Excalibur” Mr Sword thought “I think it must be in the next room.” He checked his map. Yes, the next room was the one. He gazed at the doorway. It had “Room 20: Excalibur” engraved above it in golden letters. As he was about to enter, he heard a shrill voice.
“Dada I am Godbutcher. Look at me dada, I have an Esoc!”
“You’d make a fine Godbutcher, cupcake” the father ushered the kid into the room where the dwarf stood. “Look, there’s ‘Relentless’, St Etrich’s sword.”
“What the hell!” cursed Mr Sword. “How did they even get through all the other rooms in 5 minutes. Dumb kid must’ve sprinted the whole way without appreciating the exhibits. I bet he didn’t even read any of the plaques”
Using the remainder of his self-control, Mr Sword moved his feet towards the final room. He made a mental decision that (once wielding Excalibur) he would kill that father and kid first. The only thing left to decide was which order to kill them in.
Mr Sword walked under the golden letters spelling “Excalibur”. He stepped onto the ornate Kossovian rug flowing into the room. The rug stopped at a rough stone altar. The altar had some dwarven glyphs carved into it. The dwarf didn’t even bother reading them, instead looking up on the top of the altar. Upon the altar, Mr Sword gazed at… nothing. The pedestal was empty. No sword – no scabbard – nothing.
“Mon Dieu!” Mr Sword exclaimed. “Excalibur! Where is it?”
“Oh ho ho! Not so loud sir. You gave me a fright” a voice came from the side of the room. Mr Sword turned to see an old halfling in the corner. The halfling held a broom and dustpan.
“There is supposed to be a sword in this room” The only reason Mr Sword didn’t murder the janitor was that he needed information.
“Oh ho ho. So you don’t known?” the halfling wandered over. “This happens approximately once a month. Some tourist comes along hoping to gaze at ‘the great Excalibur’ without first reading up on the history of our museum.”
“What do you mean?” Mr Sword made a mental note to make the janitor’s death extra painful for using the word ‘tourist’.
“Well it’s the darnest thing” the janitor scratched his head. “So you know that this museum was created by Swordmaster Camelot, right? The famous swordsman, member of Sub Optima, leader of Clan Skarsnik?”
“Camelot… Yes, I know Camelot.”
“Right, well this was the last room that Camelot made in the entire museum. And unlike the others he did everything in this one himself. Picked out the rug, pasted on the wallpaper. The lad even carried this stone block all the way from the quarry. Fella was strong for his age.”
“And?”
“Well, the last thing he did was carve the inscription into this pedestal on which Excalibur would rest. He insisted on carving it in dwarvish, with a common translation here to the side.”
“I can read dwarvish.”
“I suppose you can, sir. I was actually in the room when he carved it. Was rather epic. He didn’t use a hammer and chisel to make it. No, he used a sword. He used Excalibur itself. It was the first time any of us saw the sword actually. And holy shit – what a sword! I can still picture it. Camelot strode into the room for the ceremonial carving of the inscription. He drew the sword from his back in one motion – as if preparing for battle. He stood still for a few moments, letting us marvel on the sleek silver blade protruding from his arms. Then he drew the inscription one letter at a time. It was something to behold! One would never imagine that granite could be carved like that. The motions were smooth – as if he was writing with a fountain pen or something. Excalibur just glided through the granite like it was butter.”
“Like butter?” Mr Sword grunted. In his mind he said “my blade will glide through your flesh like butter.”
“Exactly! Like you know when you spread butter on some toast? It was exactly like that but with granite.”
“But where is the sword!?”
“Well that’s the thing.” the halfling scratched his head. “Once the swordmaster carved out the last letter he vanished. Both Camelot and Excalibur simply disappeared into thin air. Don’t look at me like that sir. There were a dozen of us in the room. He just disappeared without a flash. We talked about it for months afterwards. Initially we presumed that it was some sort of theatrics for the opening of the museum. That Camelot would return for the grand opening and drive Excalibur into the pedestal or something. But the grand opening came and there was no sign of the old dwarf. We got in touch with Clan Skarsnik, but they had no contact with him either. We had a wizard check out this room for residual magic, signs of any maleficence (Camelot did have enemies). The wizard said that there were traces of some very high level spell being cast, but couldn’t determine what it was exactly. So there you have it, sir. The mystery of the Namburg Sword Museum. We actually thought about putting a plaque up explaining all this at the entrance, but there were express orders from Camelot that the museum should always remain exactly as he designed it. So I suppose… enjoy the empty pedestal, sir.”
The old halfling hobbled into the corner of the room and resumed sweeping. Mr Sword decided to read the inscription on the pedestal before killing him.
“Well traveler, you have made it to the final exhibit. I hope that you have learned something during your visit. It is a museum of swords, so hopefully you learned something about swords. Perhaps you learned that there can be more to a blade than weight, balance, and sharpness. It is also a museum of people, so maybe you learned that there can be more to a person than greed, demons, or revenge.
Now, onto the last exhibit: Before you lies Excalibur in all its might and glory! The greatest sword ever forged, retrieved from the third moon itself. The blade that cut off the head of the god, Mario. In some ways, this sword is the pinnacle of my life. It is a symbol of everything Sub Optima achieved.
Excalibur is a fine sword. More light and accurate than any sword every forged. Able to call down fire from the heavens. It let’s you fly. It can even grant wishes. Truly a fine sword. All that I have ever wanted from childhood.So – there you have it – my life is complete now. The one thing I ever desired lies before you. Since gaining it, much has happened. Clan Skarsnik went through triumph and tribulations. But ultimately, my life was complete the moment I drew Excalibur for the first time.
There is only really one thing left that I want. Just one regret that Swordmaster Camelot has. Just one thing that I had never been able to fix. It concerns Mister Sword — the one other who truly understood the sword (the owner of Astral Wave in room 1). My regret is that he never had the opportunity to see Excalibur for himself. He is the only one, other than me, who could truly appreciate the sword. I wish that Mister Sword was alive to come to this museum.”
Aeschylus (aka Excalibur)
legendary lunar artefact
Excalibur is the sword above all other swords, the ultimate melee weapon, and in the right hands , the slayer of gods. Each swing as unstoppable as the flow of time, its driving point as inevitable as death and its edge as keen and bright as the birth of a new star. Impossible to find a decent scabbard for.Melee Weapon (Martial, Sword) – Greatsword
- Category: Items
- Damage: 2d6
- Damage Type: Slashing
- Item Rarity: Unique
- Properties: Heavy, Two-Handed, thrown,
- Weight: ??
Immovable
The sword is unwilling to be wielded by any other than a true master. The sword functions as an immovable rod and is unusable for any but the most legendary swordsman.
The first sword.
Forged by the faceless smith Gobha, the first strike of his hammer on the endless anvil gave exploded in the first supernova, creating all the matter in the material universe, and thus all the other swords. Excalibur is a +5 magic weapon.
Apocalypse
All damage dice with Excalibur are maximised
PerfectionThe wielder can forgo any attacks during a turn to increase their AC by 30.
Inevitable
The first time a character is reduced to 0 HP while wielding excalibur, they instead remain at 1 hp. This can only be used once per long rest.
Winged blade
The wielder of Excalibur can cast fly up to 3 times per day.
Cosmic Blast
On a critical hit, A vertical column of divine fire roars down from the heavens on the target. Each creature in a 10-foot-radius, 40-foot-high cylinder centered on a point within range must make a Dexterity saving throw DC 20 or take 4d6 Radiant Damage.
The End
The wielder can choose to cast wish a single time. This will destroy Excalibur, and the wielder will instantly be consumed by the spell , their body and soul fusing with the sword permanently which is instantly transported to a different time and plane to be discovered in a different Era by a different legend in a different campaign with a different DM, tic tacs no backs.
They may then add an additional bonus feature to the sword.
Wisdom of Camelot
The spirit of Swordmaster Camelot aids and advises the bearer of Excalibur. The wielder gets +5 on all non-combat ability checks and saves, as long as they involve a sword in some sensible way (e.g. identifying a sword, stealing a sword, intimidating someone with a sword, forging a sword, throwing a sword as a makeshift grappling hook).