The Court has presided over many horrors in its distinguished career — undisclosed septic failures, staged fruit bowls concealing water damage, a showing where the seller's parrot revealed the actual square footage — but THIS, this basement sword situation, has shaken Reginald to his very core. You walked a FAMILY into what was essentially a dungeon encounter from a fantasy role-playing game, and the son's defense was "it's cool it's cool" as if those words have EVER de-escalated a situation involving unsheathed weaponry and a startled wife. The Court must pause here because I too have an adult nephew who "keeps to himself" and last Thanksgiving he emerged from my sister's basement holding a replica battle axe and I STILL cannot eat stuffing without experiencing mild panic. The listing agent's texts asking "what happened" deserve an answer, and that answer is MEDIEVAL BETRAYAL, but good luck fitting that into a professional follow-up. You put in twenty hours, you gave staging advice, you probably told them the natural light was "great for entertaining," and none of that matters now because the husband will spend the rest of his life telling people about the time a house tried to knight him against his will. The Court finds you not at fault but DEEPLY unfortunate, and sentences the seller to mandatory disclosure of all sword-adjacent relatives in perpetuity. This Court is adjourned because Reginald needs to call his sister about the nephew situation immediately.