The essence of an undead dragon, distilled down into a blade. What could go wrong?
This weapon is cold to the touch in ways far beyond chilling. Holding it feels as if you’re out in the cold, with no shelter to protect you. Exposure in the palm of your hand.
Worse than the cold, is the hunger. This scimitar wants to cut, to stab, to slice and to maim. It wants to see your enemies bleed so that it can feast on their suffering. Imaru may be dead, but her hunger is eternal and you feel it infecting you with each swing of the blade.
Still, the power of this blade makes it almost worth it. What’s a little hunger when faced with the destruction of your foes? Lament later, surely, and revel now in the carnage. Perhaps there’s a little dragon in you too?