THE MOMENT
"HAHAHAHA!!" Sir Randolph laughed heartily at the Dark Lord's messenger. She was an old hag with her face mostly obscured by a dark hood and a large nose. The chosen knight was on his way home after a full day of training when they crossed paths. She approached him as an old beggar; but, dropped the act to curse him once she was close enough. "Anything that can be considered a weapon, eh?"
Sir Randolph was destined to be a hero and wasn't about to let a half-vague curse stand in his way. As if to prove his determination he drew his own sword and when he gripped the pommel he took time to laugh at her some more.
"Clearly your magic is no match for a destiny written in the stars," he said.
"I am quite old and frail," the hag nodded. "It's a big curse, it takes a little time," she cackled as she turned to leave.
"Of course," Sir Randolph continued to laugh; but then, his sword slipped out of his hand. He was surprised, then again as the rest of his armor somehow slid down his body and to the ground.
"Hoping to embarrass me?" he laughed unashamed of his now naked form.
"Not at all," the hag answered without bothering to turn around. She was old and slow, but kept walking away. "Maybe you never thought of your armor as a weapon; but, it can certainly be considered as such," she cackled some more.
Sir Randolph thought about chasing her down, but he was still feeling confident in his abilities, and he was curious. He reached down for the sword and his hand went right through it. He tried for his armor and encountered the same result, he was unable to touch any of them.
"Huh." He took his eyes off the hag for a moment because she was moving so slowly; but, after his experiments, he looked back up and she was gone. Without an immediate plan, he resumed the journey to his home leaving his armor and weapons there.
On the way home he decided to get magical help after a meal. He'd worked up an appetite training, and he didn't think his condition would necessarily get worse. That was until he reached for the door handle and his hand slipped through it. The unexpected loss of balance shuffled him forward a few steps through the door. It was a surprise; but, now that he knew the secret, he could imagine the knob and door as dangerous weapons with little effort.
"It's gonna take some getting used to...," Sir Randolph sighed. He was alone in his own home, and so he felt comfortable letting his true feelings out. He was starting to get worried; but, he wouldn't give up. "...it just means I'll have to get a little creative in standing against the forces of evil..," he reaffirmed his commitment first, then entered the kitchen. He was starving and reached for the first thing he saw, a half loaf of three-day old bread; except, his hand went through it.
"HOW IS THAT A WEAPON!?" he grumbled. He was immediately thrown into a tizzy reaching for anything and everything he could grasp; and yet, nothing was solid to him.
"Water!" he ran through the door and out to the well. He was relieved to see the water bucket full and up; he wasn't sure if he'd be able to push the bucket in or raise the rope. But, his hand passed through the water and bucket just the same. It was at that moment that he finally grasped the true power of the curse. He sighed as he made the revelation, unsure of what he would do next. "...anything that could be considered a weapon...," he shook his head. "...a person desperate enough would weaponize anything."