Orcrist

Stolen long ago, recovered with its mate from the trolls’ hoard, it sits now in the last hand ever imagined—a dwarf's.  Although his blood is royal and his cause noble, “Goblin-cleaver” is an elven sword and cared little for its new master.  Strapped to his belt, beard brushing the scabbard, the blade threatens to catch the ground when he bows.  Ridiculous, amusing, infuriating, it is only when it tastes goblin-blood again that it truly belongs in his hand.  And when he falls in battle, it mourns. Shining white in warning, the blade lies now forever on his tomb