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What is a weapon to you when your playing a video game, what does that cool magic sword you got really mean to you? Nothing. Do you think about the spear's feelings when you slaughter tens of goblins with them. Nope not a bit. Do you think of the armor that dropped after dying in a rogue like losing it forever. You might be sad that you lost some really valuable equipment but that's all there is too it. After all their inanimate objects, tools even at that. Tools with the purpose of giving you strength. But what if perchance that inanimate wasn't so lacking of sentience. Now you've come across a living sword or so and talked with it as a person. But, what if the sword couldn't talk, what if it still wasn't a person. All it could do is urge you on like the ring of Sauron or sometimes not even that. As the item sits there for thousands of years, changing hands throughout the ages observing the world. What would they care about, would they care about anything. Sometimes not. Not only the items reaction itself though, but what about the world around it. How will the world change in accordance to this powerful item as it passes from person to person. But even immortal things will eventually fall and be trapped forever. One day the day will come to pass when the item sitting in some buried cave deep under the earth will no longer find a Keeper at the end of their long wait, as the darkness stays eternal.
The Creation:
My creation is an unimpressive tale, I was forged by a human. He had been contacted by a demon and was tempted to help with their great goal of bringing about a demonic incursion from the nether world. He dedicated his life to creating a weapon capable to ripping through the fabric of reality for the demons.
He'd spend a year on each piece working tirelessly melting down and remaking these weapons time after time to make a the blade that will achieve this great goal. For 87 years he did this, the great broadsword I originally was, shrinking slowly, losing my martial capabilities as the time passed but growing in magical power. Till he finally passed away at the forge but a hammer away from finishing my new blade. I laid there in the heat but a mere dagger.
My black blade and crude spikes covering my body. Bloody tear drop shaped rubies in my hilt and a small blade in my handle to stab into anyone who would try wielding me. But more than anything, my eye my portal like eye that lays in my blade.
He didn't even test me yet, I needed to know. Did he succeed finally with his dying breath. All my other 86 forms were failures but surely with his death this was a sign that I finally succeeded I was finally a success. I could open the rift and end the human race as it's known. I just needed someone to use me. Someone must find me please wield me and use me, activate my great ability. So I waited. I waited for my first keeper to find me.
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