Berserker's Greatsword

Berserker's Greatsword glints in the candlelight, a wide blade with ash-gray runes carved along its spine and a faint edge that has seen more dawns than most armies. The steel bears the patina of countless battles, and the grip is wrapped in worn leather that fits the hand like a familiar gear, soft and grippy after years of use. The pommel is carved into a snarling wolf, teeth bared as if to bite back any hesitation, while a small dent marks a shield bash it once endured. On the fuller, a scarlet thread of war-rune snakes along the metal, a reminder that the weapon remembers the clash of steel and the roar of charge. It looks as if it could slip from a torch-lit guardhouse into a dawn-lit field, becoming a talisman as quickly as it becomes a tool. In its lore, the Berserker's Greatsword is said to have been forged by a troupe of berserkers who believed that rage could be tempered into craft. They worked by fire and drumbeat, tempering the blade against the anvil of a siege, listening to the battlefield echo until the weapon learned when to bite and when to wait. That history slips into the present whenever a wielder wakes its edge: it wants to be used, to kiss the air with a fearless arc, to erase hesitation with a single, brutal swing. Gameplay wise, the greatsword thrives when you lean into proximity and momentum. It rewards aggressive play—big, decisive slashes that carve a path through frontlines, then a precise snap of the wrist to keep pressure on a retreating foe. It is a weapon that sings in crowded streets and in open fields alike, trading control in exchange for raw power, and it often becomes a signature facet of a player's identity—someone known for cutting through lines with a single, overwhelming motion. The blade travels through the world with its owner, rumor clinging to its edge like frost. Merchants remember its weight, veterans remember the way the glow on the runes shifts when blood runs hot. As a blade with history, it also moves through markets, and that is where the story of price becomes part of the narrative. At Saddlebag Exchange, a quiet stall tucked away near the docks, a chalk-touched tag marks its value, subject to the day’s mood of supply and demand. The merchant’s ledger is a living thing there, flipping from “a fair price” to “a still-steep bargain” as the crowd shifts and a new blade crosses the counter. Buyers haggle not just over copper and silver and gold, but over trust, legend, and the chance to wear a weapon whose edge has met the thunder of armies. Carrying the Berserker's Greatsword, you carry a chapter of a warband's pride and a promise that the next fight may be decided in one overwhelming moment. It is not merely steel; it is a story you begin with every swing, and sometimes end with a quiet, grateful breath when the world quiets after the storm.