[Arthur and Macbeth explain how they survived through the centuries while drinking coffee owned by Nightstone Unlimited]
AArthur
Mortally wounded in 542. So they shipped me off to some magic hill... And put me to sleep for a thousand, four hundred, fifty-three years.
Sounds lovely.
AArthur
And you?
Deal with a demon in 1040. Officially died in 1057... Been sleep-walking for nine hundred, thirty-nine years.
AArthur
... Guess I got the better bargain.
Ach, I try not to dwell these days... So here's to the immortals. [Both of them bang their cups against each others] There aren't many like us.
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