Sometimes, death is slow. Sometimes, fast. Always inevitable.
When the land is dying and tainted, its mine yield deadly things. Grave-Iron is tainted by the perpetual decay and carry entropy within it.
A terrible weapon whose keening wail means death.
Blades made by metal taken from lands tainted by death. Infused with perpetual decay, they fill wounds with rot and festing disease.
Heralds of doom, weapons made to be the avatars of entropy, decay and death.
No matter where you need to be, there you are.