[ The answer she gets seems unsatisfactory in some way, like the man is holding something back. That's not for her to consider at the moment though. There are much more pressing matters. ]

Call me Saber.

[ A pause as she considers the rest of his answer. That answer's no good, but it's not his fault then, is it? ]

We must be in the same situation, then. Brought here by some sort of unknown magic.

[ Arturia is trying to focus on her plan of action, but is finding it aggravatingly difficult to focus. Her head feels full of cotton balls or wool and the gears of her mind seem to be turning much slower than she'd like. She blinks as the man with a shield asks about her sword. Asking if she's supposed to have it is like asking her if she's supposed to have two hands and two feet. ]

It's not an antique, it's Excalibur. And of course I'm supposed to be carrying it around. Why else would I have it?