This blade is not old, nor is it renowned. It means alot to the one that bears it, however, and can be very deadly if used properly.
GalwaEnchena is the name for the ultimate weapon, the weapon said to be able to slay even a God, if the wielder is willing. This weapon appears to be a finely crafted broadsword. It is so much more. Forged by Corvus the Great, for Alyen the Wise, known as Alyen the Bloody, King of Western Marches, it is a weapon so terrible that it brought peace to the land. Note: GalwaEnchena in the old tongue means “End of Conflict/ End of War”
Normal small knives modified to give fast attacks. Enchanted versions are even more deadly.
The Grand Sword of the Warlord is a weapon of destiny. It has been wielded by most of the greatest warrior leaders in History. It is their compaion. It is also, unknown to most, a legacy of Corvus the Mad.
A pilgrim’s protection, an assassin’s friend, a weapon of no great power.
A weapon of surprise.
Long lost beneath the raging seas, the Sword holds the pure power that nobody could ever contain.
A magical warhammer with an electrical history.
Nobody knows how many were made or who the creator was. It is only known that in need, the blades always appear to those that are worthy. They lift those they choose into places of power and use that influence to rage a millennium old war.
This sword was forged in the ancient past at the request of a soldier who had to destroy an evil magician who had gained immortality.
A weapon with multiple personalities. Always a chance you can get the one you want, always a chance you won’t. Once drawn will you be able to wield it? Will you be able to use the powers and knowledge or will you be swept away by the needs and wants of this intelligent item?
A well worn ornamental axe that has been used beyond its intended ritual uses. Reason being that it has an aura around it that negates all magic.
The weapon to all appearences will appear to be a +5 sword until in battle when a qualified person swings the suddenly heavily unbalanced sword.
Plain looking dagger. However, when the dagger is seen in the light of an open flame Jamil’s hand print is on the hilt from where he gripped it in his death.
The accepted mode of getting otherwise unobtainable information is to go visit the cranky old hermit living in the mountains. It's just the sensible thing to do. So, naturally, everyone takes their monthly excursion to the hermit's hovel to consult him on everything, from lock-jaw to lovesickness, necromancers to nasal viruses.
Now, if everyone's always visiting the poor old hermit, there's going to be an enormous queue... "Wellcome to the Hermitt's Hovele, Please Take Ye a Number and Have Ye a Seate" reads the sign outside the packed dwelling.
Imagine the poor hermit, having retreated into the mountains to escape this precise situation...