Gram was enraged by the threats being leveled at him by this upstart of a girl. She seemed to think that threatening godlike weapons at least ten times her age was totally acceptable. He said nothing, though, deciding that at this point, it would be best to just be quiet. He didn't want to risk actually getting thrown to the bottom of a lake. People didn't tend to frequent the bottoms of lakes. Indeed, he didn't know of any beings who did, except maybe Naiads, but they were only interesting in luring weak-minded adventurers to their deaths. They had no use for a sword, and he feared being ignored more than anything. Boredom was so close to ceasing, now that he had a wielder. He just wished he could have one that wasn't so mouthy. A strong, violent owner was what he needed. Someone with real potential. He supposed this one would do, though. At least until someone bested her. Then he'd convince whoever that was, that he was superior weapon, and be off again. Hopefully on real adventures.

Having mastered the slow thought, the weapon found itself in a village before he knew it, and very soon he felt hands on his hilt. He would have shuddered with excitement if such a thing were possible, but being a sword, all he could manage was a groan of anticipation. Then he heard the word slaughter. This was definitely going to be that. Surtr shouted in triumph when he was pulled from his scabbard, and he whole-heartedly agreed with Tikki's statement. "Oh, I'll work very hard, my dear. You'll never find a more satisfying weapon." he promised in reply to her thoughts. Already his magic was working, tendrils of violence winding up her arms, gripping her with skill, a mastery over killing that only a weapon could have. Then, because he thought it was a good way to set the tone, he caught on fire. The blade burst violently into flames that shifted from green to purple, to gold, and then began shimmering between golden and electrical blue as they burned.

"Now shift your grip." he commanded his wielder. "You're not big enough to wield me like a normal sword. Your good hand goes just above my pommel, that's the metal part at the end. Your other hand goes just below the pointy things that start the blade off. Those are called quillions. Your good hand provides the power, and your other hand steers. You can swing me like a sword, or wield me like a spear, this way." eager to get started, the flames around the blade got bigger. They couldn't hurt Tikki, but her opponent would find that the fire burned flesh quite nicely, being hot enough to actually start burning the meat that these poor beings were constructed from. "Whenever you're ready, run him through." he added, wishing he had a mouth to grin with. Nothung was thrilled beyond words, and its bloodlust was palpable, radiating off the weapon like an air freshener, slowly overtaking all other emotions in the vicinity. But it was subtle enough that anyone not actually wielding him probably wouldn't feel it for a long time. And if this one died, he'd probably settle down for at least a day. 

Unfortunately for his new owner, Gram lived on a diet of violence and death. And while he didn't actually need to eat, he was more than capable of irritating her to no end if she wouldn't feed him. And now that she knew exactly what he could do, she'd likely want him around. Not many would face off against anyone wielding a giant, flaming sword that could impart to its wielder the necessary skill to slaughter their enemies. Or murder them while they slept. He wasn't picky, so long as blood was spilled by his edge...