(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

"Very well..."
I expected a sizzle or the slightest puff of smoke when my blood dripped
into the burning crucible, but it melted and swam into the molten steel like
a drop of water being stirred into syrup. And then the molten steel
blackened and pulsed as if it were... not alive, per se, but more like a liquid
zygote: life waiting to be born.
Coaxmetal was an apt name. The golem was almost gentle in the way he
hammered the weapon into shape, urging the potential to destroy from
unformed metal.
It bubbled when Coaxmetal quenched it one last time, water churning like it
was giving life to the steel. And indeed, it seemed to pulse slightly when the
golem dropped it into my hands, like the dull throb of a heart. It was an
ugly-looking weapon, shaped so it resembled the symbol of torment on my
left arm. Black veins wormed their way across the surface of the black metal,
and the edge looked to be so dull that it couldn't even cut warm butter.
Somehow, though, I knew this was the key.
I looked up, "What do you mean?"
"Why?"
"Where would I find such a shell that separated me from the Planes?"
Well, I wasn't exactly eager to die without some answers, anyway.
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