Now, we all know how Roy felt when he went through a certain trap in Xykon's first dungeon. But have we considered how his ancestral blade felt?
Perhaps this requires a small explanation. Everyone knows that the sword of the Greenhilts had magical properties, especially when it was reforged with a starmetal augment. But what a very small number of people know is that the sword has its own conciousness. And that consciousness is… erratic, to say the very least. To provide an example, it actually took pleasure in the lich shattering its blade. It really likes when it hits other creatures, and not merely in a "battle satisfaction" kind of way.
However, to the Greenhilt sword, nothing quite compared to when Roy stepped through that trap. All those types of damage, all those Fortitude saves… it was staggering and exciting. So much so that the sword (what was left of it, anyway,) felt something of a sense of loss when that dungeon was blown up by that dumb bard.
For the longest time, the sword tried to tell Roy to build another of those magnificient traps, but to no avail, due to it only being a hilt at the time, as well as the fact that Roy was mourning the loss of his sword more than that of his father. When it was reforged, however, and with the bonus of starmetal, it could finally make its thoughts known. Now, it began projecting its thoughts into Roy's brain. It started simple: "Roy."*
The response was rather predictable, if nonverbal. "What the… Who… Where…"
"I've been with you all these years, and it's NOW that you notice me?"
"Wait. You're my sword?"
"That took considerable brainpower to deduce, didn't it?" Before Roy could respond, the sword continued. "I have a request for you."
"Umm… sure. Fire away."
"Remember that trap in Xykon's castle? The one that poisoned you seventeen times?"
"Ugh, how could I forget?"
"I want you to build another one."
"Are you serious? Did you enjoy watching me get mauled?"
"Besides, I don't even know how to make a trap!"
"Then ask your rogue, or something. I don't care what methods you use, just get that trap built."
Well, it took a lot of bargaining, a few instances of tasteless jokes, and three promises of an increased share of loot, but Roy eventually convinced Haley to construct the same trap, to the best of her knowledge and ability. After a few days, the blade's request was fulfilled and Roy now stood in front of an armed doorway, set to go off once an object passed through.
"Toss me through," his sword said in his head.
"You're joking, right?"
"Just do it."
"Whatever." Roy unslung his sword and tossed it through the doorway. As the trap sprung, he had horrible flashbacks.
He decided it would be best to leave when he heard his sword mentally crying out in ecstasy.