Blazeblood Rapier (Patreon)

Weapon (rapier), very rare (requires attunement)

This twisted silver flamberge pulses faintly in your hand. It always feels warm to the touch, especially the blade.

While holding this weapon, your blood feels like it's on fire: you gain resistance to fire damage, and whenever a creature within 5 feet of you hits you with an attack, that creature automatically takes 1d6 fire damage.

Blood Conversion. While holding the rapier, you can use an action to speak its command word and stab the air in front of you with it. You can then spend up to 3 Hit Dice (a minimum of 1). The rapier releases a blast of fiery blood, which extends from you in a 5-foot-wide line that's 30 feet long. Each creature within the line must make a DC 16 Dexterity saving throw. A creature takes 3d6 fire damage for each Hit Die you spent on a failed save, or half as much fire damage on a successful one. The damage increases to 4d6 for each Hit Die spent if you have fewer than half your hit points remaining. If this property reduces one or more creatures to 0 hit points, you immediately regain 1d3 Hit Dice; a creature slain by it is reduced to ashes, unless it has the Legendary Resistance trait. Once this property of the rapier has been used, it can't be used again until the next dawn.

Curse. This rapier is cursed, and attuning to it extends the curse to you. As long as you remain cursed, you are unwilling to part with the rapier, keeping it within reach at all times. In addition, if you die, you are immediately reduced to ashes, and you can't be revived by any means other than a true resurrection or wish spell.

She stared, thoughtless, into the rapier she held like a ward between her and the battlefield ahead. One eye saw carnage: a field only marked by blood and ash. The other saw herself in the blade: distorted and stained with blood. Too much was her own, while far more was not.

In both eyes, she saw the same death. She had bled for this war. Burned for it. Her wounds shone silver with flame-touched scars.

The blade grew hot in her hand again as she felt the footsteps parade ever closer. Her allies had made their prayers, and it was left to her to be their damned messenger.