Titan stared at his forge. The great metal beast had lied dormant for quite a time. But this new challenge... Titan could feel that the reward was something that could be dangerous. And so, he couldn't let it fall into other hands. It was time to awaken his beast. He pressed a button, and the forge roared to life, spitting fire as hot as a star. Titan carefully gathered his materials, shifting a stack almost as tall as he was between his hands as he staggered from one area to another. At one space he began forging a beskar piece, then moved on to working with his limited supply of Deep Metal from a previous escapade as it cooled. Hammering the metals, he folded them into plates ever thinner, going to the thickness of a flower petal before carefully grafting another sheet into it. Tirelessly he worked, heedless of the time passing. He forged and forged, twisting pieces of metal together over and over, the sound of his hammer a constant bass line accompanying the melody of the fire. He drew inspiration from it, letting the music flow into the weapon, the rhythm echoing through the metal's very soul. It writhed under his hammer, welcoming its new shape, the music flowing within it. Finally, Titan stopped. He lifted the blade before him, then set it to the side, the forge's fire glinting off of the metal. But his work was far from over. For what good is a blade without a hilt to wield it? Turning back to the forge, he gathered the metal that had been cast aside, deemed too stubborn to create a good blade, and began creating the hilt. He coaxed it into a simple shape, the same twisting metal swirl the blade had. He slowly placed the two together and began the final process. Titan's red aura flashed into existence, the smell of rain filling the air. The two pieces slowly began to fit together, merging seamlessly into a single weapon. Titan wove spells around the blade, sharpening its edge even further while strengthening it to prevent shattering or chipping. He wove a few spells of protection around it, allowing it to create a shield dome around the wielder. He sharpened the edge in another way with a powerful spell, allowing the wielder to shred a small area within the sword's reach in their current dimension. And with a final touch, he placed a spell of flame on the sword, lighting it on fire when wielded. He stood over it, searching for a name before one found him. He smiled as he wove the name into the fabric of the sword. "Welcome to this world Branndød." He pulled a simple leather sheath out from his workbench and bonded it to the sword, then set out to place it in the competition. [spoiler]So, quick recap. Branndød is a one and a half handed sword made of molded beskar and Deep Metal. It will never chip, dull, or shatter. When stabbed into the ground it creates a shield dome with a radius of 10 feet centered on it. It can shred an area in a cone up to 4 feet at the longest point in front of the user in the user's current dimension. And it can light on fire[/spoiler]