Scout stared idly at the sword, noting the reflection of the light. He briefly allowed his mind to wonder at how pointless the thing was behind glass, rather than in someone's hand, hacking away at someone else. He was frowning slightly at himself when a voice piped up behind him. - He hadn't even heard footsteps, he'd been so preoccupied with stupid, quasi-philosophical musings about an ancient piece of sharp metal.
Quizzically, one eyebrow raised, he turned just enough to glimpse the intruder. He was prepared to wonder aloud why someone would bother sharing such information when he realized the person behind him was a very pretty woman. He turned back toward the sword and pretended to eye it thoughtfully. "Nah," he said dismissively, shaking his head. "I mean, the shit was magical and all, but Arthur was a practical, if overly noble, kind of guy. You think he'd want something so flashy? We're not talking Lancelot here."