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Dark Rocks

The Lich Sword

This Type XIV's unique furnishings follow those of an extant example in the Royal Armouries. Its creation became an experiment in offsetting the distinctive fishtail pommel. While a straight pommel would jab uncomfortably into the palm in extended guard, a simple 10 degree offset allows the fishtail's curve to comfortably cup the heel of the hand. The result is an exceedingly nimble arming sword, its balance almost reminiscent of a sabre. Please see our pricing structure for an idea of what a similar sword would cost.


∴ Specs ∴

  • Weight: 970g

  • Total length: 94cm

  • Blade length: 80cm

  • Blade width: 5.5cm-1cm

  • Total hilt length: 13cm

  • Grip length: 9cm

  • Quillon span: 16cm

  • Point of Balance: 15cm

  • Fencing flex

  • 2mm edges

  • Swollen tip


∴ Notes ∴

The fishtail pommel and sharply downturned quillons are oil-blackened, and the hardwood grip is wrapped in string and green-dyed leather. The blade features a broad fuller and the point of balance is marked with an engraved roundel.


∴ Gallery ∴


∴ An Ensorcelled Sword ∴

Flickering shadows set the hairs on your bare arms on end. The torch in your hand sputters despite the still and stagnant air. For the briefest moment you consider turning back, but caution falls silent beside the thrill of the unknown.

You note what looks like a worn sarcophagus in the middle of the chamber. Carved from the same stone as the cavern itself, the casket is unremarkable - but for what lies on top of it. The sword seems hyper-real against its decrepit surroundings. Harshly downturned quillons gleam darkly against the broad steel blade. 

Stepping toward the sarcophagus, you choke down a nervous laugh. You've heard enough folk tales to know how this ends: a shambling corpse emerging from the casket, hell-bent on restoring its treasure. Forcing back superstition, you grasp the green leather grip.

A moment's suffocating silence. The sarcophagus remains undisturbed. Chiding yourself for your childishness, you exhale deeply and turn the blade in the torchlight. It's so striking that for a moment you fail to notice the bleached bones of your own transfigured hand against the hilt. 


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