I’ve lived as a mercenary for over twenty years now and this sword here was by my side almost all this time. My closest companion, so to speak. I just know that if I take care of it – clean, oil and sharpen it on a regular basis – it will never let me down.
Truth be told, I find it hard to put my sword down. It is a part of me, something I need to live – using it comes to me as easily as breathing or eating. Whenever I put it away, I feel restless. Incomplete. I've asked my fellow swordsmen about this and many of them seemed to feel the same. It's not just a weapon. It’s what makes us who we are.