The Swordsman, 1979

As the last of Masquerade’s henchpersons fled the burning wreckage of her Kabutomech, her vows of bloody vengeance still ringing in the air, the Swordsman posed dramatically in front of the still-mostly-standing City Hall. A young man in a backwards baseball cap approached, glittering eyes clearly drawn to the fantastical weapon clutched in the Swordsman’s gauntleted fist.

“Ooh, what’s that?”
“This is the Metablade”
“Is that like a magic sword?”
“Indeed. More to the point it is any and every magic sword.”
“You mean like Excalibur?”
“Quite. Excalibur, Joyeuse, Stormbringer, Gram… any weapon ever raised by a hero’s hand.”
The blade flickered in his hand, assuming each shape as he spoke its name.
“COOL! Can it be a lightsaber?”
“Hm. What’s a lightsaber?”
*swoosh*
“Oh.”
“AWESOME!”
Hm, thought the Swordsman. This has potential.

~ by oberonthefool on February 27, 2012.

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