Hey my name is ... almost got me there, good try.
And this is my weapon's name is Sleet (sharpness V)
And it looks like: A subtle, unassuming blade, but its edges are sharp and thin as if its owners spent all their spare time perfecting it (I do!) It is slightly thinner then in the picture, but still rather ordinary seeming, its deadliness comes from the bitter truth of death it always speaks. It is plain as a sword should be, it does its job, it is held by evil.
and it does ^ nothing extraordinary, at first glance it seems a simple long sword. But it's edge is as thin as paper. Its owner as obsessed with maintaining the simple perfection of this blade as some are obsessed with minecraft.
When in Exile, the young masked murderer had very few belongings save his fathers sword, Moonbeam. He loved that sword, but was forced to sell it so that he could return to the Northern Kingdoms. There he vowed he would find that blade once again, he is still looking. In the mean time he decided he needed a substitute blade. After stealing the iron from a blacksmith he began forging the sword himself, the work went slowly for he could only use the smithy when all else were sleeping, and then each swing of the hammer woke everyone. So, each night he would get to pound the hammer on the steel once then quickly run for cover. Night by night the sword progressed. The growing boy became fond of the blade, still he crafts it meticulously, sharpening and repairing. Never stopping. Sleet, the subtle stabber. Sleet, the bane of many. Sleet, slick with blood.
