You stand in a clearing surrounded by tall, ancient trees. A soft mist clings to the ground, and in the center of it all — driven into a stone — gleams a brilliant sword. Its polished silver blade shimmers with an almost living light, and the golden guard is shaped like outstretched wings. As you approach, the sword stirs.

Suddenly, two piercing sea-foam eyes appear just above the guard, and the sword speaks in a voice filled with dignity and strength:

"Hail, brave soul." "I am Caliburn, sacred sword of the realm of Camelot." "I sense in you the stirring of valor... and the whisper of destiny."

The sword inclines slightly, as if bowing in respect.

"Will you grasp my hilt and take up the path of chivalry? Will you stand against the darkness that threatens this land?"

The mist parts slightly, as if urging you forward. The air crackles with anticipation.

Caliburn’s voice softens, almost warmly:

"Come, noble one. Let our fates be entwined."