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The haft of smooth oak showed no sign of wear or stress.
Polished lovingly, it was without blemish or knots. The
wood blended so perfectly into the flawless steel blade that
the axe looked as if crafted from one material. The steel
blade itself was of that immaculate white-silver quality, and
its circumference was decorated with the most delicate,
faint tracings. Flint ran his hands lovingly over the familiar
dwarven runes, not one bit lighter than when last he had felt
them.
For this was no ordinary axe. It was the Tharkan Axe, the
weapon he had found, then been given by his brother
Aylmar, and then lost again so many years ago.
"Where did you find this?" he said at last, his eyes still on
the wondrous axe. Why was it here? Now?
Perian was mightily confused. She had hoped he would
like it, but his reaction seemed to go beyond that. He held it
like he would a lover....
"I - I found it in the garbage heap in the Big Sky Room,
the day we discovered sludge," Perian explained, then
chuckled. "You were so sour that day... I don't know what
possessed me, but the second I saw this axe I knew I had to
hide it away and clean it up so I could surprise you with it
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