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"Oh, a Map of Karnstagg," Karsten said in a tired voice. "Would you like a Sword of Karnstagg to go with it?"
"But I have the Sword of Karnstagg!" Bert protested. "No you haven't," Karsten explained impatiently. "Not THE Sword of Karnstagg, only A Sword of Karnstagg. Don't you read chapter headings?" "How many Swords of Karnstagg are there?" Fred inquired brilliantly. Well, pretty brilliant for him anyway. Karsten gestured towards a wall rack holding several strangely familiar swords. "Forty-two in this shop alone. You see, Karnstagg was a powerful warlord, or perhaps a warlock - people of that time were terrible at spelling. His sword held great power that could not be neutralized, so when he died, his enemies took his sword and made six hundred and eighty one thousand four hundred and thirty-seven copies of it. Some say this was just to make it easier to hide the real sword, some say that the power of the original sword was distributed between the copies, so that each one of them would not have enough magic to kill a fly. I don't know which is true, but none of the Swords of Karnstagg I have ever handled, has had any traceable power." "But if the latter is true, would not destroying a sword make the others stronger?" Fred asked. He was on a roll here. "Certainly, that's why noone does it. Nobody knows the owners of all the swords, and noone would risk putting great power into the wrong hands." After pondering this strange tale, reading the paper and getting a bite to eat, Fred decided to...
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8/13/2005 6:01:11 AM
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