You hold one of Grimnir's axes in your hand.
Carried north by its intended holder, brought south by His son, and now wielded by His nephew.
It does not make you experience odd visions as Zharrvengryn did, it does little save exist. Resting in your hands as if it were a regular old axe.
And that's the crux of it.
Because this was no mere axe.
A weapon forged and wielded by the Ancestors aside, you hold a physical impossibility.
This weapon should have exploded into shards of molten metal, cracked open a hole in reality and released some fel beast from the nether onto the mortal plane for the sheer hubris its construction represents. It should not work, should not even exist, and yet it stares you in the eye and seems to cackle at how it throws everything you think you know on its head.
A Wutroth handle, wrapped in leather, supports a double bladed axe head made of Gromril. Gold decorates its surface, holding the leather in place and etched into the Gromril in beautiful geometric patterns with a Ruby embedded on the axe shoulder as the centerpiece. The glow of the Runes is subtle, the small lights emanating from several parts of the patterning on the axe serving as the only hint to their existence until the weapon is swung, wherein they make their presence known to all by blazing to the fullness of their power.
Everything in its construction is perfectly within the means of any Runesmith to acquire, and maybe that is the point. Every last aspect of this axe is perfection incarnate; as if drawing the very idea of what an axe, and the materials that make it up, is from a Dwarf's mind and imprinting it upon reality.
Plain.
And yet Urkdrengi, the Foefeller, manages to not only break the Rule of three, but does so with multiple Master Runes as well.
Just Gromril, Wutroth, and Gold.
Grungni needed nothing more to create a weapon worthy of His Brother, to build an artifact that is only lesser to Azamar, and so greatly eclipses the work of the greatest Runelords, living and dead, that it makes you all appear like mere apprentices.
Oh the sacrifices you'd make to know how the Ancestor made this possible, how much more you'd give to learn how to do it yourself.
You know you have no hope of uncovering this weapon's mysteries, but you nevertheless spend most of your allotted time dedicated to trying. Your best guess is that one of the Master Runes shares a tenuous connection to the Rune of Cleaving, another to the Master Rune of Currents, and another to the Rune of Grimnir himself and a final two Runes who's purpose remains a mystery. It is difficult to tell where one Rune ends, and where another begins, all of them seeming to overlay with one another in some way to help create the geometric patterns on the axe's cheeks. How that was done is in itself another mystery, all conventional wisdom says such a thing cannot be done but whats one more on top of the massive pile of laws this weapon breaks? Perhaps another bit of skill Grungni wished to display, perhaps some secret to how the weapon does not destroy itself given the amount of power running through it? Who can say?
So now you're left wondering, if Gromril is a perfectly suitable material to hold more than three Runes, that it can in fact contain all that power, why can you not manage the same? Grungni is an Ancestor and many of the rules that apply to you do not to Him, but you can't help but wonder if the fault may instead lie with you and not the materials you use.
All you know is that Grungni, and most likely Thungni, can do with Gromril what you nor any other Runesmith can do even with the aid of Adamant.
When you leave the home of Snorri Grungnisson, the memory of that axe weighs heavy on your mind.
