As it was with most days, a deep gloom was hanging over the crumbling remains of the ancient city. The skies were heavily overcast, allowing much less light to make it to the ground. Dust hung in the air, making it somewhat harder for one to breathe. There was something else, a certain dark aura, that made for a depressing and foreboding atmosphere. This place reeked of evil.
In one of its abandoned cobbled streets, half buried under rubble, lay an old sword. Despite its age, it still shone with the same silver sheen it had when it was forged. A shining auburn gem adorned the hilt, just below its curved blade. The energy that emanated off it was great. It did not take a mage to see that there was great magic in this weapon, although the source of such power was a mystery.
It was simply laying there under weathered stone and debris, with no owner to wield it any longer. The one who had previously owned it was long dead, and any remains that were left had long faded to time. It had been dormant for an age, awaiting the day someone new would find it. And by chance, it seemed that this was that day.