Adeipho, the Master Artificer, took his time forging this blade. Letting it's song sing through his spacious halls with every hammer blow, tuning it from a stuttering choir boy into one of the Three Tenors. It first began as a block of Adamantium, a brick of Electrum, a purse of Gold flecks, a coil of Silver, and more Copper filament then dare be asked. He was going to craft a monster, something dreadful, a horror that should never dare be unsheathed from it's womb. A Frankenstein's monster. He had learned much of these people's culture, the humans of this world, determining their course and understanding their fates. Though the man he was crafting a blade like this for would never know exactly who the Smith was, the sword would perhaps do the talking for him. It's peerless perfection would cleave and slice those that stood before him with a rather disturbing ease. All of these things had yet to come to pass, but Adeipho knew long before ever picking up his hammer again that he was undergoing the throws of precognition. It was imperative that he make a blade unlike that which he had made before, something that the other Artificers would marvel at. With a firm resolve he took the forge, it's massive maw stretching across the length of his domain. Hellfire and smoke boiled all metal that dare enter, even the mighty Adamantium, but he was going to soon render that ability moot. And thus began the hammer blows, in rhythm with the heartbeat of the Forge.

His heavy fists swung the giant unadorned piece of metal he called his hammer, over and over again. Squashing the red hot Adamantium between the anvil and hammer, thinning it and spreading it's width. Until eventually the heat began to dissipate and back into the fires it went, eventually when it was quenched enough the imbuing process needed to occur. He fitted the sword with a large fuller and began to press the molten Electrum into the Adamantium. Carefully smashing the two elements together, eventually producing a lovely aesthetic trait, the dark almost black metal was off-set by the mixture of Electrum down the fuller. Very much like a single highlight in a mop of black hair. The blade was going to be sensitive to one thing though, and that was raw power. Adeipho was well versed in these types of weapons but had not made one for quite a long time, he needed to give it a "soul" make it alive. Despite the terrific flames that could turn a body to ash within second, the floor and walls began to become encroached with frost. Quickly chilling the room to near Arctic temperatures, his breathe become visible in the air but still he sweat. Funneling into this weapon was his own Psychic energies, the immense strength of his bloodline and brethren becoming one with the blade to make it live. Never would it be truly alive, but the sensitivity of the sword would become extremely useful and make it much more potent. A weapon that the wielder could imbue his own strength into, call upon and be forewarned. In essence, it was alive, but not actually living. Looking out for itself and it's master through self-awareness and the scanning of it's surroundings. Only through the clanging of it's blade against another could the voice being tuned be heard.

It cried out in lament, the pain was massive, the veins in the Artificer's massive body bulged and throbbed. Channeling this much power was a risk in of itself, but worth it. Each time the dull edge was slowly filed into a point of perfect slicing, he could feel it scream and worm around. It's skin was being peeled away, but the Smith pushed forward, knowing that what being done was imperative. He worked upon the hilt and cross-guard with tenacity, adding to the blade arms and limbs of it's own; in a sense. Decorating and milling in silver and gold into the ultimate metal, twisting and cranking away a subtle pattern. Carving into the blade ruins of power, naming it and giving it purpose. Allowing a restless beast to become reined in and tied down, in his hand the broadsword was tiny, but to a normal sized human the weapon would be like a large longsword. In the end the blade itself was forty inches long, three and a half inches wide (with the cross guard being two inches wider on each side) and six tenths of a centimeter thick. The two handed grip was lathed to incorporate the hand placement of the user, and roughly six inches long. At the end of it all the pommel, containing the counterweight made of heavier tungsten. This would help the weapon as it was swung and keep the center of balance and percussion in order to achieve a larger sweet spot, just like on a baseball bat.

When it was complete their lay one of the Devil's teeth upon his anvil. Black, and blued from the extreme heat, twin gouges shooting down from the cross guard and then arcing in towards one another when the fuller ended. If you hadn't known it, many people would have believed that the sword was actually made from beautiful obsidian and matching the sharpness of such a stone. As very few are aware, obsidian can be carved into some of the sharpest edges imaginable, this one just happened to be under a four nanometers and lacking the natural serration of any sword or blade at such magnification. How Adeipho did this to Adamantium, is a secret of his own and his kin. Into the crossguard he had crafted the twin faces of daemons on either side, horrors that he had seen many times over. Splintering the metal with their long incisors and canines, threatening to gouge the wrists of the one wielding it, but twisting away at the last second to never allow for that to happen. In their many dozen eyes, he planted a force attuned stone, sensitive and powerful, and only reactant to the one wielding the weapon and would increase his power several times over if tapped into. He'd notched the grip to perfectly fit the man's hands even down to the fingerprints; no matter which way he held it, insuring that only he could wield it perfectly. Everyone else would either be slightly too small or two large. The weapon gleamed under the incredible amount of polishing that was done to nearly every last millimeter. Adeipho even took the time to hammer the tungsten counterweight at the bottom into a large canine tooth shape for gaffing.

And thus he named it Hræðilegr, in English it was known as Dreadful or Horrible.