"Are you even listening to me, elf?" Artur rounded on him, holding the elf's sword comfortably in his hand. "I don't know what sorts of Guardians you've been meeting before now, but I would be appalled if anybody belonging to the Order would so much as hurt you unless they saw you causing violence to someone else. We don't strike preemptively." His voice had gotten away from him, rising to a girl's high, soft tones. He came up to the elf and towered over him again.

"Now answer the question, elf. [i]Where did you get this sword?[/i]" Because Artur, suspected, but couldn't make himself believe, was that he knew precisely where it came from, and that there was a Guardian's body rotting somewhere in the wilderness.