Examining the sword sends shivers down your spine. It is a big, but elegant
weapon, lighter than it looks, and the blade is sharp, even after all these
centuries. The hilt is decorated with precious ornaments, probably depicting
Python, the Summoned One. Indeed, it is 'Northdoom', the sword which was
lost due to the Traitor. Now it is found once more.

What did Ian, the temple servant, say? Anybody who wields 'Northdoom' gets
cursed? This is probably just a legend---but a part of you is unsure. And
then you think about the possibilities. 'Northdoom' is the mightiest weapon
ever created! If the damnable Traitor hadn't stolen it, man would've won the
war against the Drekh'Nar. Perhaps mankind could be redeemed not by the Book
of Stars, but by a second war, led by this sword? The old glory could---

Suddenly you hear a disembodied voice, interrupting your thoughts:

"I am Ares, the god of peace and war, and I tell you: You may try to
wield 'Northdoom' and seek revenge for mankind's fate. But you may also
throw the sword into the lava, deep down in the caves, thereby ensuring that
nobody can ever abuse Northdoom's power. The decision---is yours!"

Then it is quiet. Only the wind creates a distant noise. You're alone.
