The Hundred: Khorduniak

It is hard to say what differentiates this weapon from any of the other broadswords in a well-stocked armoury. But there are those who are attuned by nature to the odd aura that it radiates; to those who are so attuned, this blade is discomfiting indeed. Out of the corner of your attuned eye, you will see a battleaxe — a traditional labrys, double-bladed, four feet from edge to edge, with superb finishing in blue and green steel. Yet, it is obviously a broadsword.

The blade Khorduniak is the crafted dream of Khairin, the Swordhand of Ystrond. Not one for traditional crafts, this dwarven master was said to have indulged in swordcraft, oenophilia, and balladry. In her early years, Khairin was sought by the Silver Elves for her exquisite and extremely lethal mechanisms. (Sadly for those most suicide-prone of immortals, they were never lethal enough, although some went close.)

Khairin was also a master alchemist and a panoptikon, in the parlance of the Metapsychic Guild. As only a dwarven craftsman could, she wove these peculiar skills into the making of her life's work. Khorduniak seeks out the five most potent dooms of the mind it faces, and then it attacks in five correlated ways through physical as well as psychic reality, taking on a form appropriate for each attack.

Somehow, it always appears to be a beautiful axe when not looked at directly, but dwarves will never see it as such no matter how they suspect it to be one. The rest of the time, it is obviously a sword, and it works hard to remain that way. Khairin too had to work hard to be a dwarf — for at heart, she was an elf.

The Hundred: Zeist

There is always the faintest whisper, the final thin gleam of reflected light, which betrays the nearly perfect ambush. With Zeist, there is nothing. For Zeist is treachery made into a tool of death. It often manifests as a thin blade, perhaps a modern foil, or a broadsword of mysterious aspect, or a sabre built for a halfling. Sometimes, it is another weapon from another age; it can be arquebus or bolas, blowpipe or crossbow. In all aspects, it is silent and difficult to see; I have seen it as an icepick before.

In the great myth-cycles, the hero is betrayed by the weapon more powerful or more corrupt than he; sometimes, the hero is corrupted by the power given to him by it. There is none of that here. Zeist works only for those with only the slimmest chance of salvation, or for those who by its use will stand to lose such chances. It is a tool that corrupts the corrupt, and helps the evil along their road to a deserved doom.

Zeist is sentient; it has a peculiar empathy which arouses the worst and most craven impulses of the impromptu murderer. Whether a replacement killer or a substitute assassin, the weapon works to ease the path towards the breaking of contracts and the bending of words. The success of the slayer depends on the degree of deceit he has used, urged gently upon him by the quiet empathy of the instrument in his hands. The wielder will talk to Zeist more and more; while it will never be 'my Precious' to him, it will be 'my Friend' or 'my Companion-in-Adversity'.

The fate of the one who handles it is terrible indeed; slowly, he will come to fear betrayal. He will come to sense treachery in every act and a traitor in every situation. And when Treachery has come to the end of its working relationship with the man, it will take his life when he least expects it – perhaps on the day that he essays to shave with a naked sword.

The Hundred: Virakhene

This is a well-polished sword, perhaps a ceremonial blade to the untrained eye. But the Marshal of the East, by virtue of his office, must wield Virakhene because of its history. For Virakhene, 'Fearbringer' to the Chaos hordes, is the ritual weapon of the law, of the sun, and of the terror that strikes by day.

What are its powers? The Fearbringer is a Maker's tool, made to serve the worthy and disdain the craven. It makes obvious the appearance of courage in the holy and brave; it makes obvious the sensation of fear in those who fear such. Its touch fixes the quality of randomness in the things of this world; its radiance burns against evil like a silver flame. In battle, it blinds the undead and suppresses the most lethal fires of chaotic evocation. In peace, it demands fairness in negotiation and the disposition of spoils.

With such gifts, it is tempting to say that Virakhene is not a chivalrous weapon, or to wonder why it is given only to paladins to bear. But the fact is that its greatest gifts preserve the justice of the trial of battle; evil magic fails against its wielder and the undead have no power over him by charm or curse. His bravery is not enhanced, but it becomes clear to others; his fear is not diminished, but it becomes equally obvious to those who watch him. If these properties should shift the tides of war, it is not because it changes the one who bears the sword.

And that is the nature of the Maker's tools: they do not change the balance of the world, but they make it easier to perceive and to bear.

The Hundred: Zunamondin

From afar, this weapon is an ill-crafted object of wrought iron, perhaps a blank pallet of crude steel or something cheaper. It is only when you come closer that you begin to feel the first pricklings of a terrible unease. For you will see that it is perfectly smooth along its length and width, like a pure archetype in darkness. And something is calling to you, in the depths of your being, saying that it will divide bone from marrow and self from self.

For Zunamondin (the etymology of its name is unknown) is the Glaive of the Void, a trump of the Fifth House and an artifact of another realm. In its true shape, it resembles a flamingo, a sun, a matchstick, a mushroom. It is hard to say what it is, but about a handspan beyond its perfectly sharp tip is something so small it shouldn't exist – a singularity bound by the High Art of the College of Stars.

The trump, you see, hides its own trump. In the right context, it is an ace of the highest order, and its name is Destruction. It is said that the owner of Zunamondin is the spirit named Azrael; it is also said that the owner of Azrael is the spirit named Zunamondin. For all we know, the two are one, and maybe more. The person who wields this artifact should read the Book of Swords, for the instructions given therein regarding the care of safety and the burden of ownership are accurate and invaluable for the preservation of one's sanity and physical integrity.

The Glaive is easily summoned or invoked; its spoken name is potent magic. It comes from a time before the written glyph, and so runes and such have no effect upon it. Similarly, its name may be written freely without geas or binding. Most often, it takes the form of a longsword, perhaps a katana, or a weapon of equivalent class and status. If it has a discernible hilt, quillons or other appurtenances, they are often in a subdued but capable metal such as brown iron or green steel.

The Hundred

In the stories of all the worlds, there are tools which shape and change the nature of reality. Some do this by forcing acquiescence, some do this by being immutable while their surroundings shift around them. In the realm of the Thunderbird, there are roughly a hundred of these, and each has its own intrinsic properties – you can tell them apart from what they do (and perhaps, who they are) regardless of form or substance.

In Celtic myth are always four things: a sword, a spear (or staff), a stone, a cauldron. These correspond with the modern card suits of Spades (espada is 'sword' in Spanish), Clubs (or Staves), Diamonds (or Coins), and Hearts (or Cups). The motif of four entities is repeated throughout most of Indo-European culture, of course; in the realm of the Thunderbird, four is just the first of a sequence that includes six, eight, twelve, twenty and a hundred.

And so, as the inspiration strikes me, I shall endeavour to catalogue the Hundred in all their myriad forms – for a myriad is ten thousand, and that is a hundred hundreds.