As if on que, the bashing and crashing of all the commotion dislodged an elegant ornamentle saber from its plaque, positioned hi up on the tavern wall. 
The sturdy sword came plummeting down, ringging out with a tinging thud as it stabbed itself into the wooden floorboards mere feet from Niccola. It stood up right, wobbling back and forth, calling for attention to its swaying handle. Just begging to be used.

Coincidence, luck, or a gift from the tavern itself...
[@Redcovey]