Inspired by the legend of the Apple of Discord and the Judgment of Paris, this elaborately decorated rapier features a hand-dished heat-treated cup hilt, closely sized for improved handling and comprehensive hand protection with correct angulation. An apt all-rounder, she moves quickly but with enough blade presence to impose on the opposing sword. Beautiful yet ultimately formidable as the competing goddesses of the legend, the sword is finished with a stunning array of brass and steel detailing, while remaining a practical training tool. Please see our pricing structure for an idea of what a similar sword would cost.
∴ Specs ∴
Weight: 1100g
Total length: 120cm
Blade length: 42"
Blade width at base: 2.5cm
Grip length: 7cm
Grip and pommel: 11cm
Cup diameter: 11cm
Quillon span: 25cm
Point of Balance: 13cm
Blunt edges
Rounded tip
Fencing flex
∴ Notes ∴
Hades is truly in the details with this fantasy rapier. The cast brass pommel takes the form of the golden Apple of Discord, which led to the events of the Trojan War. The apple's hand-carved inscription reads "To the fairest" in Greek script, while a curling steel stalk and carved golden leaf complete the pommel. The oil-blackened hot-forged crossguard takes cues from fluted Doric columns, with carved capitals at the terminals, while the quillon block is carved into the likeness of a tiny Greek temple. The oak grip features an eight-strand wire wrap of steel and brass, including spiralling ribbons of pierced brass, and Turk's head knots to the top and bottom in the historical loop style. The hand-dished spring steel cup is heat-treated and blackened to a matte finish, with an elaborately pierced brass florette plate inspired by Hellenistic pottery designs. This sits over a leather liner, to avoid vibration when the cup is struck. The cup is affixed by two decoratively carved brass screws with brass washers.
∴ Gallery ∴
∴ A Goddess Scorned ∴
"I never get invited to this sort of thing," she laughs across the rim of her glass. "Not that I let that stop me."
She caught your eye as soon as you walked in. Something about her demeanour: playful, mischievous, even. While the other guests stood raptly behind their chairs, waiting to applaud the bride and groom, she was perched on a bar stool, glass in hand, surveying the room with the arc of a graceful brow.
The second thing you noticed was the sword. Propped against the bar beside her, it's a glimmering thing of slender steel and bright brass, gleaming wire grip emerging from a blackened cup. It sits at odds with the minimalist decor of the villa - but somehow not with her. No, despite the absurdity, you are certain it is hers.
As the happy couple enter to cheers and clapping, she reaches for the weapon and leans toward you, conspiratorially.
"I'm bored," she complains. "Want to make some trouble?"
Her fingers brush lightly, almost absently over the rapier's golden pommel, and it's only then that you realise the form it takes: a golden apple, as if from myth. The seed of discord itself.
"To the fairest," she whispers, catching you looking, and casts you a dangerous smile.