A weapon in the making:

runes engraved by elven queen,

a name to strike terror into the hearts of rat creatures(and indeed, it glows in the dark to warn it's bearer of their loathsome presence-you rock, Michael!)

Thus a blade worthy of a king is created.

For a gallant young elven prince to wield mightily.

With much HIIIIIAAAAAHHHHing! And SSSHHHHIIIIINNGGGing(as it leaves it's currently only imaginary, scabbard.

Ratcrist suffered it's first battle scar within moments of the forging... On the way home we were set upon by a rabid, evil garage-the tipmost tip broke off in the gutwound(at least, I think that was it's gut), slaying the fearsome beast instantly.

Ah... so the legend grows. The sword that was broken shall be reforged, another adventure-strewn day when we return at last to the Great Hall of Making and offer up our plea to the Lord Michael, for the defense of our beloved northwest lands.