The Third Age. Year 198. The Andronath banner fluttered freely like a butterfly in the distance. The riders were bound for Valhansen, their stronghold. Many had perished, nonetheless, they were victorious against Blavcon. Many were weary, tired, but nonetheless, they were high in their spirits. They were passing Seldrif, the famous piles of boulders where Hagon had once slain the Prince of Darkness and legend has it that Hagon's sword could be found here. "My lord! …showed first 75 words of 212 total…

…showed last 75 words of 212 total…to waste much strength. Then, the prince announced to his men," This is the flamberge of Hagon the Second. It has been lost for many centuries, only rising from the ground to the rock every once two years. But..." Before Lional could even finish completing his sentence, he was interrupted by a bellowing voice. "I claim what is mine. Hagon was slain by me, fool." The Andromathis turned and saw what they could not believe...