“I believe this is the biggest sword I’ve ever had to forge,” Donrich, your chapter’s sword smith, told you with a grin.
“I’m…sorry?” You answered hesitantly, not sure what kind of answer Donrich was expecting from you.
“I’m not,” Donrich answered with a grin.”I’ve been looking forward to this day, ever since you were a foundling.”
Two decades ago, you were abandoned as a baby at a chapter house of practitioners of The Way of the Sword. A number of men and women of different races have come to this and other chapter houses of your order to learn The Way, but you are probably the first plains giant to do so.
Your first name comes from the only word you could say when you were found. It is the Plains Giant word meaning “rock.” Your clan name of “Strongarm” designates you as someone who, for one reason or another, is unclaimed by any Plains Giant clan.
Donrich, a human sword smith, is making you your final sword, one specifically crafted to your fighting style and physique. The blade of the sword, made of pattern welded crucible steel, is narrow, single edged and slightly curved. It has a long hilt to accommodate a two handed grip. The overall length of your sword is five foot eight inches long.
The fact that Donrich is making your final sword indicates you can now claim the title of Swordwalker (albeit a novice one). It also means you are ready to begin your first quest
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