(…) but Túrin begged Orodreth for a sword, and he had not wielded a sword since the slaying of Beleg, but rather had he been contented with a mighty club. Now then Orodreth let fashion for him a great sword, and it was made by magic to be utterly black save at its edges, and those were shining bright and sharp as but Gnome-steel may be. Heavy it was, and was sheathed in black, and it hung from a sable belt, and Turin named it Gurtholfin the Wand of Death; and often that blade leapt in his hand of its own lust, and it is said that at times it spake dark words to him.

“Turambar and the Foalókë” - The Book of Lost Tales (part. 2) - HoMe - J.R.R. Tolkien

Hail, Gurthang, wand of death, for thou art all men’s bane and all men’s lives fain wouldst thou drink, knowing no lord or faith save the hand that wields thee if it be strong. Thee only have I now - slay me therefore and be swift, for life is a curse, and all my days are creeping foul, and all my deeds are vile and all I love is dead.’ And Gurtholfin said: ‘That will I gladly do, for blood is blood, and perchance thine is not less sweet than many a one’s that thou hast given me ere now’; and Turambar cast himself then upon the point of Gurtholfin, and the dark blade took his life.

The Silmarillion - J.R.R. Tolkien