Long ago, before kingdoms were carved in stone and before men walked proudly upon the earth, there was a living weapon known as the Creature Blade. It was not forged by mortal hands, but born from the stormfire of the heavens when lightning struck the bones of the world.

Its form was jagged and sharp, like a claw of the gods themselves. Legends say the Blade was alive, drinking in the blood of warriors and growing stronger with every battle. It did not belong to any one man or tribe. Instead, it appeared to those whose hearts burned with vengeance, whispering promises of victory—yet demanding a terrible price.

The Creature Blade could cut through iron as though it were silk, but its true power lay in the shadows it cast. Wherever the weapon struck, the spirit of the fallen would not return to the earth. Instead, their souls were trapped within the Blade, their cries echoing forever in its black steel. Those who carried it felt the weight of a thousand voices urging them to fight, to kill, to never rest.

One ancient warrior, Kael the Stonebreaker, was said to have wielded it during the War of Ten Tribes. With the Blade in his grasp, Kael carved down armies as though they were reeds before a flood. Yet when the war was over, he found no peace. The voices of the slain grew louder each night, driving him mad. In desperation, Kael hurled the Creature Blade into the Sea of Black Waves, where it sank beyond mortal reach.

But the old seers warn: weapons born of stormfire cannot be drowned. When the world is again torn by endless war, the Creature Blade will rise, seeking a new hand to carry it—and to feed it once more.