This ready-in-the-hand longsword was with the study of Fiore in mind. It has a blade shape and furniture style chosen by our client, and a balance inspired by the Royal Armouries' IX.1106 which we were lucky enough to handle in January.
The sword marries a robust feel in the hand with a surprising grace in motion. It incorporates a thick tang and forte with a four-part mostly-solid pommel, which balances out the abruptly flexing tip.
This combination leads to ready rotations and eager actions in close measure. It can be used comfortably single-handed for extended thrusts, and lends itself to the half-swording and murder-stroke actions present in Fiore's works.
Named for the full title of Fiore himself, the Furlano longsword was an enjoyable and successful experiment in historical handling. It will make a marvellous training tool for Fiore's teachings, as well as Talhoffer and similar close-measure treatises.
Please see our pricing structure for an idea of what a similar sword would cost.
∴ Specs ∴
Total length: 115.5cm
Blade length: 89.5cm
Blade width at shoulder: 4.7cm
Blade stock: 8mm
Quillon span: 21cm
Grip length: 20cm
Grip and pommel: 25.5cm
Point of balance: 9.5cm
Weight: 1590g
Ambidextrous
2mm blunt edges
Swollen tip
Fencing flex
∴ Notes ∴
The hand-forged and heat-treated guard and pommel are polished to a satin finish.
The square-section crossguard features long, straight quillons with sharply downturned terminals. The wheel pommel is around 80% solid and made of four parts, finished with a brass peening block.
The oak grip is wrapped first in linen thread and cord risers, and then in oxblood-red kidskin.
∴ Gallery ∴
∴ A Problem Halved∴
The salle is silent but for the sound of clashing blades. Students line the long, high-ceilinged room like empty suits of armour, rigid and wordless, their eyes fixed on the fight.
The duel was not your decision. You can say that at least, though you might admit to goading your master into it. The fellow was never fond of you, from the first time you corrected his footwork. All it took was a little critique, an impertinent question or two, and a certain wrinkling of your nose when he held forth on measure. Eventually, he was bound to crack.
And today he did, the words like music to your ears: "well if you're such an expert, Mister Furlano, why don't you prove yourself in a fight?"
You let the pause sound long, until all the students around you had pricked up their ears and strayed from their pairs to see the drama unfold. Then you gazed up with innocent eyes.
"Was that a challenge, Maestro?" you asked quietly.
And so the duel began: longswords, gloves and gambesons. A fight to first blood.
Your master fences much as you expected: at first flashy and uneconomical, keen to embarrass you in some splendid fashion. Then, as his tricks sputter out, he becomes coiled and defensive, stepping back from the engagement when he might press his suit. Finally, as he starts to tire and sees that you do not, he resorts to desperate swinging cuts that create great gaping voids.
You select one of these and step daintily into it, one hand sliding from the oxblood grip of your longsword to the thick forte of the blade, while the other remains cupped about the steely wheel pommel. You glance up just in time to see the panic in your master's eyes before you jab both arms outward, the fangs of your crossguard flashing as the sword sinks between his ribs.
He stumbles back, clutching at his wound. You watch idly as students clamour around him, some casting wary glances in your direction, others staring openly with something like awe. The master's wound will heal well. You chose your target carefully. His reputation will take a little longer to repair.
A flower of battle you may be, but that doesn't make you any less of a thorn in the side.