top of page
Dark Rocks

The Cardinal Feder

A kindred spirit to our Basilica Feder, the Cardinal boasts an elongated geometrically faceted pommel and flared, slightly downturned quillons. Paired with four fullers on the blade and a rich red waisted grip, the sword will add a touch of Gothic elegance to every class and competition. Please see our pricing structure for an idea of what a similar sword would cost.


  • Weight: 1650g

  • Total length: 131cm

  • Blade length: 39.5"

  • Blade width at base: 6cm

  • Blade width under schilt: 3.7cm

  • Grip length: 20.5cm

  • Grip and pommel length: 30cm

  • Quillon span: 28cm

  • Point of Balance: 8.5cm

  • 2mm edges

  • Fencing flex

  • Rounded tip


∴ Notes ∴

The hand-forged hardened steel crossguard and pommel are oil blackened to a matte finish, selectively polished to bring out strong lines. The hardwood grip is bound first in linen thread and cord risers, and then with deep red leather. The quadruple-fullered blade features an engraved rune to our customer's specifications.


∴ Gallery ∴


∴ A Capital Vice∴

Wrath was always going to be your downfall, from the heated debates with the masters to the vicious scuffles in the cloisters. Twice already the abbot has taken you aside to remind you that your tuition is a matter of charity, and that further outbursts will not be tolerated. He sent you away with a dose of Hail Marys and a look of disdain.

It's that contemptuous look - and not the Latin prayer - that you dwell on now. Perched on your low wooden bed, muscles aching from the beating you took in sparring practice, you meticulously clean your sword and scowl. Your fist clenches around the feder's blood-red grip as you let anger take over. Anger with the abbot for that superior sneer. Anger with your father for signing your life away to these warrior zealots. Anger with yourself for being so easily riled.

"I heard the abbot gave you hell today." A familiar voice distracts you from your melancholy, heavy with good-natured gloating. Your cellmate scuffs over the reed-strewn floor toward you, a chicken leg in his hand and a grin on his face. "What was it this time, the belt or the switch?"

In a flash of fullered steel you're on your feet, half-polished sword slicing the air between you and the intruder. In a strange moment of calm before momentum takes hold, you realise you'll never forget the look of horror on his face.


Os comentários foram desativados.

Ready to start your Balefire journey? Get in touch now to share your vision.

bottom of page