It was a normal day at Pwen's shop, he forged swords in the back peacefully, gave out his weapons to the guards who dulled their blades dulling practice and then melted down the old metal and made cheaper ones for the lads to practice with, over all a normal dull day for the dwarf, he was getting along in the years just over his third century and hadn't seen battle in decades, truthfully he was hoping for a fight just to shake the dust off. Too his dismay he was going to get his excitement from something he kept locked away in the back of his store.
A large sword mirroring one he created for a reckless boy years ago hung by chains in the back of his storage the weapon itself even wrapped in chains that were marked with runes that now glowed a dull red coloring. It was a evil sword the boy originally wield and it held monstrous powers that tainted the boy for life, to the dwarf's dismay the angel copy he made was not even to give the boy back his pure appearance and in the end he had to give the boy over to a priest who wiped his mind of everything about his wings and the wicked weapon.
But now unknown to the dwarf the dormant soul of the weapon awakened and slowly darkness spilled from its blade and ate away at it's binds, it wished to go to its masters side now that he had fallen to despair, it wished for him to use it again in battle instead of that wretched blade of light.
The dwarf was passing the room when suddenly he heard something heavy hit the ground, grumbling quietly to himself he kicked open the door nearly knocking it off its hinges and looked around, "Boys if ya back here I swear your in for a hurtin, " growled the dwarf though as he looked around the room his eyes fell onto the broken chains that once bound the weapon and then his eyes went wide when he realized what was bound was now missing, ".. Gods help him.."