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"Listen closely. A sword's like a kitchen knife, but for murder! They're created to kill people! And a blacksmith hones his craft so that his weapons are better at killing than any other! A sword has its own personality... a swordsman must master it, and bend it to his will! You think a dangerous sword is cursed?! No! That's the sign of great quality! When the weak fear a sword and call it cursed, that is a badge of honor! They should be frightening! They're meant to cause terrible harm! There was one blade I crafted when I was a young man... It was the greatest weapon I ever made. Its disposition was deadly serious! Just holding it in your hand sent a shiver down the spine. So I gave that masterpiece the name, <Enma>!"
—Shimotsuki Kozaburo, One Piece, deconstructing and defying the trope.
Comic Books
Captain Marvel: Would it really be so bad to let Dane-
Captain Britian: Yes. Yes, it would. You weren't with us when it happened, Carol. You didn't see how many Ultrons he had to kill. And yes, fine, it's machine life. They were "only robots." He had to - but this is the Ebony Blade, the Anti-Excalibur. Sword of the other Britain, the one that sneers at "chavs" and "scroungers", and pours hate and fear on those who need kindness... trust me. Any kind of life will do. Dane's holding it back with his fingertips right now. If he gives it one more inch... it'll be worse, Carol. Worse than Ultron.
Captain Britian: Yes. Yes, it would. You weren't with us when it happened, Carol. You didn't see how many Ultrons he had to kill. And yes, fine, it's machine life. They were "only robots." He had to - but this is the Ebony Blade, the Anti-Excalibur. Sword of the other Britain, the one that sneers at "chavs" and "scroungers", and pours hate and fear on those who need kindness... trust me. Any kind of life will do. Dane's holding it back with his fingertips right now. If he gives it one more inch... it'll be worse, Carol. Worse than Ultron.
Literature
He thought he could gain power through wearing me. Of course, it is the other way around.
— The Archchancellor's Hat, Sourcery
Viewing it on the monitor, Jack had been able to appreciate its comical appearance as well as its more deadly aspects. Here, standing in its presence, he could see nothing amusing about it at all. The device reeked of destruction and anger, of hatred and pride and a lust for power.
All tools and weapons, Uncle Virgil had once said, could be used for both good and bad. They could be a help in Jack's work, or throw a snarl-up in his path.
But the Death was different. There was no useful task to which it could be put, no role of defense or creation that its technology could provide. All it could do was kill, without discrimination or restraint or mercy.
It was pure evil.
All tools and weapons, Uncle Virgil had once said, could be used for both good and bad. They could be a help in Jack's work, or throw a snarl-up in his path.
But the Death was different. There was no useful task to which it could be put, no role of defense or creation that its technology could provide. All it could do was kill, without discrimination or restraint or mercy.
It was pure evil.
Music
I have this feeling that my luck is none too good
This sword here at my side don't act the way it should
Keeps calling me its master, but I feel like its slave
Hauling me faster and faster to an early, early grave
And it howls! It howls like hell!
This sword here at my side don't act the way it should
Keeps calling me its master, but I feel like its slave
Hauling me faster and faster to an early, early grave
And it howls! It howls like hell!
— Blue Öyster Cult, "Black Blade," about Stormbringer
Tabletop Games
For seventeen long centuries have I remained in this blade, confined within these metal walls. During all my imprisonment you are the first I have seen who is worthy to bear me into battle. Come, take my hilt, and I will serve you in the manner of my kind, drawing the blood of your enemies, protecting you in the midst of the fight, bringing you safe home again. Now draw me from the scabbard and test the fitness of my balance. See how easily I swing, how my keen edge cleaves the air. A good choice, am I not?
Willingly you picked me up. Your first mistake. Willingly you drew me. Your second mistake. I do not allow my servants to make three mistakes, foolish mortal...
Willingly you picked me up. Your first mistake. Willingly you drew me. Your second mistake. I do not allow my servants to make three mistakes, foolish mortal...
— Antinichus, Daemon of the Bloody Blade, Warhammer 40,000
Video Games
Draw close now. Closer. Yes. Let me tell you why you should not fear Willbreaker, the sword of Oryx.
Firstly: Its blade is not dulled by age. Each death it trades for life hones its edge, gives it weight and gravitas and insistence within the vortex of its own totality.
Nextly: Willbreaker transcends liminality. Willbreaker demands a subjugation more diffuse than the simple snick and smash of a physical brink. It does not have to touch you to wound you.
And lastly - and this is critical - to be taken in Willbreaker's grasp is to know true bliss; that is, to be simplified; that is, to be reduced to one's most basic level, shedding all higher-order thoughts of fear or duty or selfishness; that is, to feel only pain.
Now do you see? Now do you understand what you've done?
Firstly: Its blade is not dulled by age. Each death it trades for life hones its edge, gives it weight and gravitas and insistence within the vortex of its own totality.
Nextly: Willbreaker transcends liminality. Willbreaker demands a subjugation more diffuse than the simple snick and smash of a physical brink. It does not have to touch you to wound you.
And lastly - and this is critical - to be taken in Willbreaker's grasp is to know true bliss; that is, to be simplified; that is, to be reduced to one's most basic level, shedding all higher-order thoughts of fear or duty or selfishness; that is, to feel only pain.
Now do you see? Now do you understand what you've done?
— Toland the Shattered, after the player reforges Oryx's sword Willbreaker into Dark-Drinker, Destiny
To anyone reading this: BEWARE THIS BLADE
It is hoped that the only people having access to this room should be the Jarl of Whiterun and his trusted wizard. If anyone else is reading this, please understand the magnitude of your folly, turn around, and never even speak of this room or this blade to anyone.
It has corrupted and perverted the desires of great men and women. Yet its power is without equal - to kill while your victim smiles at you. Only a daedra most foul could have concocted such a malevolent and twisted weapon. But it appears that all who wield it end up with the crazed eyes of those wild men who roam the hills chattering with rabbits.
It is not to be trifled with. Not even the hottest fires of the Skyforge could melt it; indeed the coals themselves seemed to cool when it was placed within. We cannot destroy it, and we would not have it fall into the hands of our enemies. So we keep it, hidden, dark and deep within Dragonsreach, never to be used.
Woe be to any who choose to take it.
It is hoped that the only people having access to this room should be the Jarl of Whiterun and his trusted wizard. If anyone else is reading this, please understand the magnitude of your folly, turn around, and never even speak of this room or this blade to anyone.
It has corrupted and perverted the desires of great men and women. Yet its power is without equal - to kill while your victim smiles at you. Only a daedra most foul could have concocted such a malevolent and twisted weapon. But it appears that all who wield it end up with the crazed eyes of those wild men who roam the hills chattering with rabbits.
It is not to be trifled with. Not even the hottest fires of the Skyforge could melt it; indeed the coals themselves seemed to cool when it was placed within. We cannot destroy it, and we would not have it fall into the hands of our enemies. So we keep it, hidden, dark and deep within Dragonsreach, never to be used.
Woe be to any who choose to take it.
— "Admonition Against Ebony," located next to the Ebony Blade, The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Oh, ho ho! Don't you look young and full of life! Such a warm smile here in these desolate mountains deserves a nice reward. Here, take this axe - this EVIL abomination of an axe! Beware! Its blade drinks blood and devours flesh. I'd hate to see you come to any harm!
— Unnamed villager who gives you the Devil Axe, Fire Emblem: Shadow Dragon & the Blade of Light
Deep inside the smelly museum, one old scholar sat in the dim archives. Before him was a box tightly sealed. He was told by the former owner, in no uncertain terms, to "Never open it."
Apparently a fossil that sucks human blood was inside. How foolish. Who'd believe something like that in this time and age? You only believed in this superstition because you lived your life surrounded by books.
He opened the box. Dust flew wildly. There was one strangely shaped stone inside. Since it had a hilt, it might be an instrument for some kind of ceremony... or a weapon. "Such a fascinating shape. I have to do more research on this."
Still, how foolish would you have to be to fear such a thing? Hehehe... the old scholar laughed while gouging out his left eye in front of the fossil.
Apparently a fossil that sucks human blood was inside. How foolish. Who'd believe something like that in this time and age? You only believed in this superstition because you lived your life surrounded by books.
He opened the box. Dust flew wildly. There was one strangely shaped stone inside. Since it had a hilt, it might be an instrument for some kind of ceremony... or a weapon. "Such a fascinating shape. I have to do more research on this."
Still, how foolish would you have to be to fear such a thing? Hehehe... the old scholar laughed while gouging out his left eye in front of the fossil.
— The story of the Earth Wyrm's Hook, NieR
Regalia of the Kingdom of Liven. Originally carried by the country's founding matriarch, Gandra the Warrior, and handed down through generations of her successors until finally reaching the hands of Queen Lenaia. The rivers of blood spilled by this cursed sword over the ages are said to have swallowed its prior owners, all of whom descended into violent madness after falling under its influence.
— Description of the Black Widow, Salt and Sanctuary
A crude greataxe of rough-hewn diorite with an inexplicably keen edge, originally the tool of an estranged executioner and widely believed to be haunted by his avaricious soul. This loathsome relic has left a trail of corpses in the wake of its passage from one owner to the next, with every victim having conspicuously succumbed in a similar manner to increasingly unbridled and self-destructive desires.
— Description of the Coveted, Salt and Sanctuary
Revenant: Turn away... before it's... too late...
Prince Arthas: Still trying to protect the sword, are you?
Revenant: No... trying to protect you... from it...
(Arthas and Muradin defeat the revenants and enter the cave they were guarding)
Arthas: Behold, Muradin, our salvation. Frostmourne.
Muradin Bronzebeard: Hold, lad. There's an inscription on the dais. It's a warning. It says... "Whomsoever takes up this blade shall weild power eternal. Just as the blade rends flesh, so must power scar the spirit." Oh, I should've known. The blade is cursed. Let's get the hell out of here!
Arthas: I would gladly bear any curse to save my homeland.
Muradin: Leave it be, Arthas. Forget this business and lead your men home!
Arthas: Damn the men! Nothing shall prevent me from having my revenge, old friend. Not even you. Now, I call out to the spirits of this place! I will give anything, or pay any price, if only you will help me save my people!
Prince Arthas: Still trying to protect the sword, are you?
Revenant: No... trying to protect you... from it...
(Arthas and Muradin defeat the revenants and enter the cave they were guarding)
Arthas: Behold, Muradin, our salvation. Frostmourne.
Muradin Bronzebeard: Hold, lad. There's an inscription on the dais. It's a warning. It says... "Whomsoever takes up this blade shall weild power eternal. Just as the blade rends flesh, so must power scar the spirit." Oh, I should've known. The blade is cursed. Let's get the hell out of here!
Arthas: I would gladly bear any curse to save my homeland.
Muradin: Leave it be, Arthas. Forget this business and lead your men home!
Arthas: Damn the men! Nothing shall prevent me from having my revenge, old friend. Not even you. Now, I call out to the spirits of this place! I will give anything, or pay any price, if only you will help me save my people!
Frostmourne hungers.
— Arthas Menethil, Death Knight, Warcraft III
Webcomics
Some say the sword was cursed - what else could make this noble man do the things he had done? To kill, as he did, without discrimination - cutting until each village ran with an apple's depth of blood?
Or did he merely watch, forced to gaze as that damned blade did the work of hell?
I have heard it said that, when the sword's resolve lulled for but a moment, he drove a dagger into his eye in horror at the things he'd been forced to do - but the sword would not let him die.
He would never have that chance again.
Or did he merely watch, forced to gaze as that damned blade did the work of hell?
I have heard it said that, when the sword's resolve lulled for but a moment, he drove a dagger into his eye in horror at the things he'd been forced to do - but the sword would not let him die.
He would never have that chance again.
Web Original
(Polnareff unsheathes the Anubis sword)
Anubis: Wan wan wo!
Polnareff: What? There's a voice inside my head...
Anubis: Polnareff...
Polnareff: A-a puppy!
Anubis: Wan wan wo! You are the master of the sword... Now... Use me, and destroy... There is no limit to what you can cutnnnareff... Together, none shall stand in our way!
Polnareff: W-wan wo wan wan wo!
Anubis: Wan wan wo!
Polnareff: What? There's a voice inside my head...
Anubis: Polnareff...
Polnareff: A-a puppy!
Anubis: Wan wan wo! You are the master of the sword... Now... Use me, and destroy... There is no limit to what you can cutnnnareff... Together, none shall stand in our way!
Polnareff: W-wan wo wan wan wo!
Real Life
Now arms, however beautiful, are instruments of evil omen, hateful, it may be said, to all creatures. Therefore they who have the Tao do not like to employ them.
— Laozi
