I, Ad Dakhla, scribe and chronicler to the court of the Sultan of the City of Bronze, do here set down the tale of the Sword of Bronze, one of the city’s great heirlooms and jewels. Unlike most of the blades I have written on, it has been my pleasure to inspect the Sword of Brass with the Sultan’s permission, and I can report it to be a fine spatula of pre-Køs manufacture.

Bronze swords were, of course, common before the invention of steel, though few have survived. But the Sword of Bronze has, and it is all the more unique for another property it demonstrates: whether by some alloying unknown to those who yet live or a supernatural process, the polished surface of the sword is always a mirror shine and is never marked or dulled. I could not cause so much as a fingerprint to appear upon it, and neither chalk nor charcoal could make headway.

I was unable to confirm this fact, but the Sultan informs me that the one and only thing that can stain the Sword of Bronze is blood.

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