“You know what we need Record Keeper?”
“Indeed my Lord Akoroth. A sound economy, modern military and a corruption-free government…”
“What we need is a magical sword…”
“One of those massive magic swords soaked in the blood of ages and hung over our hearth…”
“We have no hearth, but blood-soaked weapons can be arranged my Lord. I am sure the butcher can help…”
“Err no, not the pigs’ blood one. I mean a real cursed sword, handed down from the eons, oozing darkness in our court.”
“All the black paint is not sufficient?”
“It is not causing a feeling of dread to spread through the castle Record Keeper. What is a castle without such feelings?”
“And why would a magical sword have that affect my Lord?”
“Well Record Keeper, the sword does nothing much. It’s mostly the imagination which allows for a series of wonderful pictures to float through one’s head when they see it…”
“I have always found that a bit strange my Lord. I wonder why an ancient sword is creepy. At least you know where the evil is…”
“Your point is?”
“Take this knife my Lord.
What has this knife been doing?
Has it been cutting vegetables?
Or murdering children and skinning them to make pink carpets?
It would never tell what sins it has been party to.
Maybe the handle was replaced once. Maybe the blade was changed once. Is it still the same knife?
Does the horror pass on?
As all marks fade in time, we will never know what evil happened here or what evil MIGHT happen here.
The vast possibilities that such a prospect presents is infinitely creepier than some old, moldy, rusted sword hanging over a throne. ”
“Anyway my Lord such swords are fictional. But we have some real weapons and they should cause dread enough…”
“Yes my Lord?”
“Put the knife down.”
“Yes my Lord.”
“GUARDS! GAURDS! GET IN HERE! GUARDS!”