Once the greatest swordmaker in all the world was commissioned by the Six-Fingered Man to make the perfect sword. He set to work, obsessed with his task and when it was done, there was indeed no blade to equal it. The Six-Fingered Man returned to claim the sword. Yet the villain did not wish to pay what he had offered. The Swordmaker refused to be parted from his masterpiece for less than the promised price, and so the Six-Fingered Man murdered him.
But the Swordmaker had a son, and that was Saint Inigo.
Saint Inigo devoted himself to the study of fencing. He learned from the best fencing masters and fighters and began to hunt for the Six-Fingered Man. But he could not find his father’s killer, and so poor Saint Inigo fell to drink and mercenary pursuits. For twenty years, he traveled the world and fought and searched and struggled.
His journey was long, and sometimes ignoble, but when at last he came face to face with the Six-Fingered Man, this is what he said:
“Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.”
And whether the Six-Fingered Man heeded that advice, we cannot say. With mercy, we hop he did.