Kurwin's squire inserted the the old brass key into the lock of the large ancient oak door and twisted it slowly. The lock protested the intrusion with a loud bitter clank. Kurwin and his squire exchanged a brief glance before he gave the door a firm but cautious shove. The door complained with a harsh creak as it swung slowly open. The two men peered inside the dimly lit room where a small stand, illuminated by the filtered light of the waning day stood as though it had been waiting for their arrival for centuries. Dust motes wafted in rays of light scattering away from the two men as they entered the the small chamber.
Resting on the stand was a wooden box covered in a thin blanket of dust. Kurwin waved his hand across its surface to reveal carvings of strange creatures, fairies, angels and beings of another ilk that he had never seen before. He placed his hands gingerly on either side of the box and slowly raised the lid, almost fearfully. Light poured from the container spreading across the room almost blinding the two adventurers. Kurwin looked at his squire the expression on the face of his companion betrayed what his mind was thinking, he knew what the object was that was casting its glorious radiance from inside its resting place.
"What is it?" Kurwin said.
"It is a Free Lancer".
As if by command words began pouring out of the box turning and darting, spinning and flying about the room. Changing form, taking shape becoming magical beasts, strange creatures, men on horseback spears in hand, wizards glowering over crystal balls. Ideas and memmories filled Kurwin's mind, thoughts and recolections of things past and future, adventures old and new. It was now Kurwin's face that betrayed his thoughts as he slammed the lid shut. This box, this thing of wonder was now his to keep and hold forever. It was his and his alone. Kurwin drew his sword and turned slowly toward his faithful squire.
'His and his alone'.