@Dark Light I'll come up with an introduction for you, where do you imagine the Sword That Has Yet To Be Named to be resting? A tomb? In the grip of a dead past wielder?
Not too phased. Surprise me.
Once upon a time it was probably left impaling a corpse, but then animals dragged it to their lair. The bones that surrounded it slowly crumbling over the ages becoming lost in the dirt. Tunnelling brought it back to the surface where it was eaten and discarded. Then found and lost, stolen and sold. Once again forgotten at the bottom of a ravine along with another corpse in a long line of temporary owners. After that he went silent for a time. Taking the form of a dagger. He felt years pass. Ownership pass. Long bouts of still silence passed. Until now.
A firm grip awoke him. Who was this new master? Would they last? Could they help him? Would they be kind or malicious?
Just place it near someone who would like some more interaction.