"I used to have a sword so good that it could fight for itself," Freyr replied, picking up an old music box and turning it over in his hands. "I gave it away, though. I am not one for weapons, if I am honest. I make love, not war." He put the music box back and looked at a jewellery stand. One necklace of onyx caught his eye, and he picked it up. "What's this one's story?"