SWORD, MURAMASA BLADE

MuramasaBlade.png

Weight: 1,421 grams

Blade Length: 80 cm.

Material: tamahagane, leather, honoki, soul

Place of Origin: the Hell Forge

Maker: Muramasa -- swordsman, swordsmith, madman

Secret History: One day, when Muramasa was just a boy, he pretended a stick into a sword. He slashed and feinted and stabbed as he worked his way along a rice paddy and through a forest. A windblown clump of maiden grass was an attacking samurai, clouds were looming dragons. When a flash of green rose up before him, he swatted at it on instinct and felled a bird known as mejiro, a Japanese white-eye. He stood over its fluttering body until it went still. A bubble of blood emerged from its open beak and burst. He cupped its still-warm body in his hands and wept. He apologized for the life he had stolen. And then something escaped its carcass. A mist-like essence. A soul. It hung in the air, as if waiting for him. He waved a hand through it and felt a cold pulse as it gloved his skin, clinging to him. Because it belonged to him. When he picked up the stick again, the soul soaked from his grip into the wood, hardening it with a creak and moan. It was alive, he understood. Inhabited. Strengthened. And when he swung the stick again and brought it down upon a nearby boulder, the stone shattered.

The Forging: When Muramasa makes any weapon -- whether a katana or a shuriken, a war fan or armor -- he does so with the care of an artist. But in some cases -- some very special cases -- he elevates his art to the level of sorcery by investing a soul into the metal. This welding of steel and soul is a folding and smelting of the earthen and spiritual planes, an elemental merger, a key. A key between worlds. And it is also a deal made with death. A soul, or a portion thereof, has been harvested. And nothing hungers for and aims to spite the living like the dead. His blade wounds like no other.

Hell: The realms of the dead have been slighted by Muramasa. He is a thief many times over as a keeper of souls. The devils gnash their teeth and click their claws, because he owes them an immortal debt. And there is one -- the Beast -- who wants this debt repaid in servitude.

#mysticism