The Night Knight
The greatsword shone red in the sun rise as though still fresh from battles long past. The grip, hilt and crossbar were lain with smooth dragon scales, and a moonstone the size of an egg for the pommel in the likeness of a skull.
‘It is for you.’
Nenia tore tear rimmed eyes away from this greatest of gifts to Goridar.
‘I cannot take this.’ She whispered.
‘You can,’ he told her, ’and you must. Too long has my fair blade been confined to a cage. You can restore her glory again. Wield her proudly, and true, and forever keep the one who gifted her to you in your heart.’
And Nenia swore she would.