The Castilia Scabbard

∴ A Complete Set ∴

The Castilia rapier is an enduring favourite with our followers, and exhibits a subtle 17th Century Spanish aesthetic. Our client liked the look of our basic frog and belt sets, but wanted to add something of the same Spanish to the design. Between us we discussed a variety of traditional Spanish designs, highlighting in particular the vine patterns in extant leather and woodwork.

I based the final tooling pattern on a rough sketch provided by the client, and created variations on the theme for the belt, the frog, and the scabbard itself. The dark brown of the leather is set off by hammered brass fittings and copper rivets, while the scabbard benefits from a thick leather chape and mouth for added durability.

Due to the simple and versatile style of the frog and belt, the scabbard can easily be worn on either hip, ideal for an ambidextrous fencer.

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The Accipiter Scabbard

∴ A Heraldic Fantasy ∴

I’ve been fortunate to create leather goods based on fantasy realms before, taking cues from Middle Earth and beyond. This challenge, however, was all the greater – making a scabbard based on a world of our client’s own creation.

A published writer, our client chose to celebrate the success of her novels by commissioning a sword and scabbard straight out of them. The resulting weapon was the acclaimed Accipiter Kriegmesser, and my task was to create a matching scabbard. Continue reading

The Accipiter Kriegmesser

∴ A Soaring High ∴

You close your eyes and focus on the threads of thought that are the goshawk’s. A momentary vertigo washes over you, as you accustom yourself to being in two places at once – standing on the solid stone of the balcony, and soaring thousands of metres above the earth.

The raptor’s nature tugs at your mind, and for just a moment you allow the rush of air and the lust for prey to take over entirely. Wingtips tingle with information from the air, and you answer automatically with a flap of your wings. You sense movement, some miles to the South, and hasten toward it, keening to plunge into the dense canopy that hides your quarry.

With regret you draw back in your mind, tugging the hawk’s attention away from its distant prey and toward the sand-strewn riverbanks. Irritated, the bird wheels round and begins to follow the meandering waterway West. A glimmer arrests its eye. Not the glint of sunlight on water, but something still. Something solid.

Folding your wings you drop from the high soar, your human side feeling a gut-deep lurch, and circle the sand-strewn bank. There, still half immersed in the river that bore it West, is the unmistakable curve of the sword, the copper eyes of its goshawk pommel meeting those of your avian host.

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