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Dark Rocks

The Drow Longsword

This deliciously decadent longsword was commissioned as part of a matching set of black-and-oxblood themed swords, with a nod toward the dark elf aesthetic of classic fantasy games. This comes through in the severe faceting of the crossguard, while the hand-carved curls of the pommel suggest a dark mage's staff.

The pronounced quillon block allows for extra comfort and control when thumbing the blade in German techniques, while the broad, barely-tapering blade offers excellent protection to the body when used in the correct guards.

The textured spherical pommel assists a tactile grip in rotational movements. The sword itself is keenly attuned to such motions, with a nice central balance allowing the wielder to switch swiftly between actions.

Please see our pricing structure for an idea of what a similar sword would cost.


∴ Specs ∴

  • Total length: 135cm

  • Blade length: 100cm

  • Blade width: 5cm at base

  • Blade stock: 8mm

  • Grip length: 28.5cm

  • Grip and pommel: 33.5cm

  • Quillon span: 28cm

  • Point of Balance: 8cm

  • Weight: 1830g

  • Ambidextrous

  • Blunt edges

  • Rounded tip

  • Fencing flex


∴ Notes ∴


The hand-forged and heat-treated crossguard and pommel are blackened to a matte finish. The guard features slightly downturned flattened quillons with a pronounced ecusson, while the pommel is hand-carved with swirling details.

The blade features a single, broad fuller to the center. The oak grip is half-wrapped in linen twine and oxblood leather, and half in braided steel wire, giving a feeling of other-worldly decadence.


∴ Gallery ∴


∴ A Nebulous Magic ∴

IMG_8150 (1)

You choke back a cry as the pointed toe of your boot catches a piece of benighted debris, almost sending you to the ground. You don’t know why, but it seems wrong to curse here. Wrong to make any noise at all.

You’ll just have to let your eyes attune. You know the dangers of foraging on a moonless night, but when else would the ingredients you seek be so potent? And so you take it one step at a time, squinting at the faint lines of the path, willing them sharper.

In rebellion your eyes play tricks: a crumbled pillar looks for a moment like a looming figure. The swarming shadows at the corners of your vision send a shiver beneath your cloak, though you know that they’re not there.

Suddenly, a light appears before you - and this, you know, is real. A glowing orb of unnerving blood red, seemingly hovering some feet off the ground. Within its dull red glow, swirls twist and shift organically, like tendrils of mist in a crystal ball. You move toward the visage like a moth to a flame, knowing the danger even as you do so.

You see the figure then. Tall and angular, impassive and imperious in stance, skin somehow cold-hued even in the orb’s rosy light. You realise, then, that the sphere is not suspended in mid-air, but gracing the top of the dark elf’s staff. Beneath its glow you can make out a haft of twisted steel wire meeting dark-dyed leather.

A fellow mage, then. You sigh in slight relief, tracing the sign of your order in the air. The silvery marks are quickly subsumed by the moonless dark. The mage’s face does not move, but her pale hands do, quickly sweeping the staff up and outward into a combative stance.

It is then that you realise your second mistake: the beautiful blood-red orb was no jewel adorning a mage’s rod, but the pommel of a sword. A sword that’s now pointing directly at you.


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