[Nilpaurion Felagund]

Túrin drew forth his sword, and said: "Hail, Gurthang, iron of death, thou alone now remainest! But what lord or loyatly dost thou now, save the hand that wieldeth thee? From no blood wilt thou shrink! Wilt thou take Túrin Turambar? Wilt thou slay me quickly?"
And from the blade rang a cold voice in answer: "Yea, I will drink thy blood, that I may forget the blood of Beleg my master, and the blood of Brandir slain unjustly. I will slay thee swiftly."
Then Túrin set the hilts upon the ground, and cast himself upon the point of Gurthang. And the black blade . . . was broken asunder?
Túrin looked askance upon his blade, and Gurthang on the throes of death, said: "Doesn't anyone read manuals now? To commit suicide, you must take off your armour!"
And so passed the most talkative of all swords--canonical swords, I should say. Túrin buried Gurthang, and turned to Doriath, saying: "Hey. Maybe Nellas' still alive."

Wait, who was supposed to be the weapon there?