Teddy Clemson, now a graduate of the London Academy of Engineering, has secured a job at one of the largest shipyards in London thanks to his impeccable grades, if not his social graces. Practically all he had to do was show up with the certificate and not be an utter idiot. They asked him if he'd be willing to do heavy lifting (yes), showed him a few technical drawings and asked questions about them, had him complete one, and that was that.
Now he needs to find a new place to live, closer to the yard than his old long-term room. After asking around he finds a young couple whose grandfather recently died and whose father was lost in a war, inheriting his large townhouse. They have several upper rooms unused and being polite and quiet and well-dressed was enough, again, sufficient to arrange something with the first advance on his pay. They give him the third-floor room and the attic, saying to use or dispose of whatever's left up there as he wishes, they've already gone through it for sentimentals and valuables.
It's not like he has a busy social calendar to keep up with. Might as well get to clearing it out right away. Dispose of ratty - literally - old blankets, crates of long-rotted straw holding terribly tasteless tableware whose wood is holding together from sheer inertia, indecipherably decayed old journals and correspondence, a whole crate of flaky candles, ossified tins of MALROE SALT BEANS...
...There's a sword up here. Why is there a sword up here?