Two-Handed Sword

A sword forged from corundum. Carefully designed with the wielder in mind, its distinctive shape and rigidity make it remarkably easy to use. This attention to detail allows for tight swordplay.

This hefty blade was not made for graceful arcs through the air, nor elegant swordplay. It was forged to crush and destroy. In essence, this is the ideal greatsword in all its barbaric glory.

Despite the unusual nature of this sword, it is not imbued with magic or an enchantment of any kind. It is the product of a lost world, borne from parts unknown.

Wielded normally, it appears as any ordinary blade. "That's when the built-in mechanism unleashes itself! I wonder if they'll even realize it's there," said the blacksmith, stirring a cocktail.

A two-handed sword perfect for picking up fundamental techniques. New soldiers use it to quickly learn the nature of heavy blade combat: swing with full force for victory; hesitate, and all is lost.

This blade, infused with the breath of nature, resonates with its wielder's vigor to transfuse it into raw power. Nature does not aid those who march toward death, but those who fight to survive.

An erstwhile instrument of the execution grounds, this blade thirsts for death like a babe craves its mother's milk. With every life it claims, you feel its pleasure pulse through the grip.

A weapon which allows for the channeling of mental energy into masterful swordplay. Created by dwarven master craftsmen as a symbol of their greatest ambition: the revival of their ancient kingdom.

This blade emanates an all-consuming shadow. Whomsoever wields it shall take up the tattered mantle of the king of darkness.

"I shall not rest until I've vanquished my enemies. No matter how incessantly they suppress me, I will not disappear. I will outlast them all; it is you who will fade away."

It's said this blade was used to seal away the heart of a fell god from the abyss. Only after the smoldering rage within erupts into flames, incinerating all it cuts, is its abyssal fury quieted.

This enchanted mithril blade, imbued with frost magic, emanates a cold light that radiates eternally. This radiance is a reflection of the icy, frozen gaze of the elf who gave their life to forge it.

A sword that gets sharper with each successive slice? Preposterous! Surely no such blade exists—aside from this one, that is.

A curious sword made from neither wood, stone, nor metal. Supposedly the life force of the forest is housed within, emanating a sylvan warmth that calms the minds of warriors in the throes of battle.

Named for its desire to take the measure of opponents in battle. It requires little imagination to guess what becomes of those it deems unworthy.

A blade once wielded by a merciless minotaur. There is no room for sentimentality in battle. If any vestiges of pity yet remain in you, expunge them. Churn them into hate—into raw, crushing power.

Despite its sharp appearance, this blade sports a blunt edge. The rust-proof, keen-edged look is merely meant to deceive its foes—for this sword exists solely to smash and destroy.

A sword tempered with extremely intense heat. Unyielding solidity is its true strength, as this astounding durability allows for techniques that would cause an ordinary blade to shatter.

A wide, heavy sword. True mastery of this weapon comes from learning to translate its hefty weight into swift striking speed—the path to unlocking fluid swordplay, no matter the blade.

This obsidian blade thirsts eternally for the magical essence it drains from the bodies of slain foes. This rampant desire even draws it back to their fallen forms so it might succor itself once more.