Answer:
My first is in wield, sever bones and marrow. My second is in blade, forged in cold steel. My third is an arbalest, and also in arrows. My fourth is in power, plunged through a shield. My fifth is in honor, and also in vows. My last will put an end to it all.
Gold in a leather bag, swinging on a tree, money after honey in its time. Ills of a scurvy crew cured by the sea, reason in its season but no rhyme.
What points the way without a hand. It floats on water but exists on land?
Always old, sometimes new. Never sad, sometimes blue. Never empty, sometimes full. Never pushes, always pulls.
The weapon of choice to create the biggest shock.
Why is the letter B always cool?