Such a bloodied claymore has history way back through lines of father and son. In fact only one place near the handle still holds a metal tone, because of a magical barrier, and it has ingraved in it words that forever speak out to the swords bearer. Those words, like a guilty memory, can never be forgot.
“Thou who shall kill a sons father, shall then be killed by a fathers son.”
Far to the north amidst the endless ice-flows it is rumored that a dwarven Walrus Totem clan exists. These rumors have been unsubstantiated to date, unless the dwarven sage Glurt Goblinguts is to be believed. He claims to once having encountered a troupe of huge dwarves, each standing a beard’s length higher than the tallest known dwarf. These dwarven “giants”, their hairy chins crusted with frozen shards of ice and dirt, hauled gargantuan yellowed horns or tusks upon their wide shoulders, and their helms, likewise, sported massive, down-ward pointing tusk-horns. Glurt Goblinguts later speculated that the impressive size of these dwarves was most likely due to their arctic diets, almost exclusively fat-based.