The sword was silent. What seemed like an eternity in the darkest moments of the morning was only seconds. Yes. The answer resounded in Kalindriel's head. An elf who had moments before slipped into the makeshift room quietly approached after Kali nodded, indicating the sword's consent. Once more she...

He was weak or he would not have died. I can only guide his hand so much. It is never enjoyable to be in the hand of a weakling. Certainly not as enjoyable as being buried to the hilt in the back of a priest, to sup upon their fading strength. She quipped, "All your masters were weak then, els...

VAL - KHAN! The sword hissed back with a seething rage that would make a Flametongue envious. I was made to slay the high priest of the pathetic ValKhan! A shield is useless against a quick strike from behind. A blade worthy of the finest of assassins so they could dispatch the hated dwarves with e...

An inferior metal, regardless of origin, kept for weak sentimentalities. I am forged of adamantine! Folded with passion, molded by spite, sharpened by hate. Use the stick as it deserves--naught but kindling. You should wield a real weapon. Together we could destroy the priests of the weak dwarf lor...

It had been interminably long before she returned. Though covered, the sword could feel the elves as they passed nearby. Their purity nearly unbearable. How it wanted to bathe in their sanguine humors. Kalndriel carried the bundle to the prepared spot. She would not respond to its pleadings beyond s...

This had gone all wrong. Now she twists the thoughts of a Glabrezu. Forces it to do her bidding. Convinces it to strike directly at the neck. What kind of demon-childe is she? Moments ago she wanted to slay it, now she encourages it to bring everything worked for down. This cannot stand. I can feel ...

She approaches the Djinn of Water and flatters it. Inside she cringes but it offers power without cost. What a fool! Taken in by the Warlock's silver tongue. She utters the words that change everything: "I would wish for my mixed parentage to no longer limit my current or potential abilities.&q...

There is something off about this one. I cannot place my pommel on it yet. She has a love of darkness, a biting tongue, and a devious heart, this much I have discerned. She continues to rebuff me. I tell her the glory that awaits should she join the dark ones and she ignores me, pretends not to hear...

They slew my master and let me lie for a time, somehow unaware of my power. A raucous bunch, these humanoids. One seems to have some blood of my master's people in her, but even she is tainted and the remainder are lesser races barely worthy of polishing my blade with their sanguine bile. The shifte...

The story of the blade, Vhashik, forged by the elves of the Dark Wood.