He wielded a great broadsword in two hands, roaring a challenge every time he killed a duergar.

Springing upright, the thief drew out the great broadsword and raised his pike.

There was barely enough time to draw the great broadsword before his assailants were upon him.

The hand holding his great broadsword, however, was rock-steady.

The Knight went to her at once, drawing forth the great broadsword as he pushed through the trees of a forest that loomed about him.

On his back, the scabbard that had once held the great broadsword lay empty.

His great broadsword lay across an ebony chest.

Weighted by his great broadsword, Hawkmoon felt himself being dragged to the bottom.

In her hands it became a great broadsword with a shiny steel blade.

Then, abruptly, the true Paladin sheathed his great broadsword.