3/30 Blade

There was nothing magnificent about the sword. It rusted at the handle and was tarnished and chipped along its length, displaying the amateur craftsmanship that originally birthed it from flame. It wasn't well cared for in the years after its forging and was hung clumsily from wall to wall in the small dwelling of its creator.
It wasn't ready for war, it was never meant for war, but when the fires burned the dust was disturbed as the weapon was ripped from its perch. It killed none but one, and its final resting place was buried in an invaders skull.