the blade is mangled, and he picks it up slowly,
"THis blade was made from iron older than most civilizations now..... Iron taken from one of the tanks rolled up on one of the great battles of inception."
he hefts it one handed, startlingly spry for his old age as soma goes to the body, poking his innards.
"Magled to all hell..... More of a hunk of metal than a sword."
he holds it out to alexander.
"YOu swing it....even in this harsh state its deadlier than the blade you carry..Ill reforge it at our next base."