Blade of Sorrow

Wielded by Orofarne, the Blade of Sorrow has served him well.
Weapon stats and abilities:
Attack Type: Melee
Reach: 5ft
Damage: 2d6+8
Damage Type: Slashing
Properties: Heavy, Two-Handed

The black blade of this sword is crafted from a mysterious arcane alloy. You gain a +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this magic weapon. While the sword is on your person, you are immune to effects that turn undead. Dark Blessing. While holding the sword, you can use an action to give yourself 1d4 + 4 temporary hit points. This property can’t be used again until the next dusk.
Disheartening Strike. When you hit a creature with an attack using this weapon, you can fill the target with unsettling dread: the target has disadvantage on the next saving throw it makes before the end of your next turn. The creature ignores this effect if it’s immune to the frightened condition. Once you use this property, you can’t do so again until the next dusk.

Lore

The village is burning. Screams of agony echo across the once-argent fields. I twist and pull, but the pike refuses to pull free from the Invader. I let it go, and run as fast as my arrow-pierced legs will carry me - every strained breath filled with my own blood. Forever burned into my brain I see the lifeless eyes of my wife. My daughter. At least now they are safe in the arms of Malak'in.
The village is burning. Screams of agony echo across the once-argent fields. The door to the shed has been broken open, the farmer's tools scattered and looted. On our work bench lay the ceremonial scythe head, still unaffixed to its base. I hoist the shaftless scythe, opening my hardened hands, and plunge the makeshift blade into another Invader's carotid artery. I stumble backward, falling momentarily, and return to the village center.
The village is burning. Screams of agony echo across the once-argent fields. My eyes begin to blur from the smoke. There is an explosion of wood at the gates of the Daimyo's manor. The building itself begins to buckle and cry out for help. I enter the splintered gate, driving my tool of vengeance into the exposed back of the Enemy. The Daimyo's daughter begins to sob, thanking me for saving her as she wraps herself in a blanket. But, oh, Malak'in, I have not saved her. Not yet. Forever burned into my brain I see the lifeless eyes of my wife. My daughter. I hoist the shaftless scythe, opening my hardened hands, and then, only then, is she truly saved.
My eyes turn to the rest of the villagers - weak, fleeing across the once-argent fields. Yes, Malak'in, I can see it - only I can save them now.