This simple yet elegant sidesword was made as an open commission for a larger hand. Our client was after as utilitarian a piece as possible, covering the hand well without too much ornamentation. Chris took inspiration from an amalgam of original swept hilt designs which hit an ideal compromise between elegance and protective qualities. A closed port and a pair of angled bars work here to protect the hand, while a large hollow pommel and sharp distal taper come together to create a sharp-like blade presence. Please see our pricing structure for an idea of what a similar sword would cost.
∴ Specs ∴
Total length: 114cm
Blade length: 99cm
Blade width at base: 3.5cm
Grip length: 9cm
Grip and pommel: 14cm
Point of Balance: 15cm
Quillon span: 26cm
Weight: 1250g
Blunt edges
Rounded tip
Fencing flex
∴ Notes ∴
The hand-forged, heat-treated guard is oil blackened to a matte finish. The front port is filled, and pierced with a pattern of circles. The oak grip is wrapped in braided copper and steel wire, and finished with Turk's head knots to the top and bottom. The large, hollow pommel is oil blackened and finished with a rounded nut.
∴ Gallery ∴
∴ A Point Well Made∴
With a scowl on your scarred face that would put stormclouds to shame, you lean back against the wagon and begin to fill your pipe. You like the ritual of it - slow, meticulous, and swiftly rewarded. Much like the work you choose to take on nowadays - nothing too flashy. Guarding cargo, mostly. Travellers when the coin is good.
As you unroll your worn tobacco pouch, you can't help but overhear the younger guards on the other side of the wagon.
"It must be him," one argues. "Have you seen the sword?"
"Can't be," the other dismisses him. "What would an adventurer like him be doing on a thankless job like this?"
And on they go, whittering away about things that do not concern them. You can only ignore it for so long - the slow encroachment of your fabled past upon the hard-won simplicity of your present. The way they gawp as you pass, or ask unsubtle questions, hoping to trick you into giving yourself away.
It's the sword that tips them off, these green boys with their nursery tales. Many times you've thought about trading it in. But for what? What blade could live up to its simple black ribbons of protection, its ready weight in your hand? No, there are other ways to put wagging tongues to rest.
With a sigh you tuck your pipe back into its pouch and draw the well-kempt blade from its sheath, striding around the back of the cart. You take only a mild sense of pleasure in the wide, panicked eyes of the guards -you can still inspire awe when you want to. In a flash, the fleet point of your weapon is tickling the throat of the nearest youth.
"Now see here," you begin, with what you hope is your nastiest smile.