The Rosunita Feder

This classic federschwert is built with tournament-style sparring and drilling in mind, featuring a nimble handling with the balance point close to the hilt, allowing for speedy actions in the tip.

The narrow blade features a fuller to a third of its length and a broad, distinctive schilt. The furniture is crafted with "munitions grade" weapons in mind, with a simple square-section crossguard reminiscent of historical carpentry nails. The pommel has a similarly practical aesthetic, taking the form of a faceted globe. A green cord grip completes the sense of a functional "standard design" sword for a military or mercenary unit, with a few personal details added by the wielder.

The sword is named for the large Tudor rose engraved on the schilt, which historically represented the coming together of two great houses, and was thus referred to as "The Unity Rose". The schilt also features engraving to the reverse: the wielder's initials in Tolkien's Moria Angerthas runes.

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

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∴ Specs ∴

• Total length: 157cm

• Blade length: 100cm from cross

• Blade width at schilt: 6cm

• Blade width under schilt: 2.8cm

• Grip length: 31cm

• Grip and pommel: 35cm

• Quillon span: 24cm

• Weight: 1566g

• Point of Balance: 7cm from cross

• Ambidextrous

• Blunt edges & rounded tip

• Fencing safe flex

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∴ Notes ∴

The hand-forged and heat-treated crossguard and pommel are blackened to a matte finish, with the square-section cross ending in subtly flared terminals. The pommel is a faceted sphere.

The blade features a single central fuller to 1/3 of the blade, starting below the broad schilt, which features an engraved Tudor rose to the front, and Tolkienian runes to the rear. The oak grip is wrapped in dark green resin-soaked cord.

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∴ Gallery ∴

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∴ A Graven Image ∴

The campfire flickers gold against the cold steel of the blade, and crackling wood echoes the tinnier tap of the chisel. Another evening spent, like so many before, leeching warmth from the fire and keeping thoughts at bay with a simple task.

Each of the Company has his own way to stay something-like-sane on these long campaigns. From the centre of camp you can hear them all: the laughter and clinking of bottles. The rowdier shouts of fights a beat away from breaking out. The sighs of camp followers behind canvas doors. The murmured prayers to silent gods.

For you, it is these small, methodical acts of maintenance. Feeding the leather of your crumpled boots or replacing worn arming points. Polishing your sword and honing its edges. Keeping things just about going, for however long they’re needed.

You smile grimly as your tools trace over the strong of the blade. Tomorrow will be your final battle, one way or another. Either you’ll head home to hang this sword above the hearth, or you won’t. Retirement has been a long-held dream, but you’re no fool. You know what they say about old heroes - or rather the lack thereof.

As the noise of the camp falls into the hush of attempted sleep, you file away the last foiled edges, and hold the sword up to admire your work.

This simple tool has been by your side for a whole career, from the day it was unpacked from a crate of identical weapons and slapped into your scarless hands. Those hands are worn now, and the steel too, but through all the years it’s suited you fine. After all, aren’t you yourself an unremarkable tool, deployed to get the job done?

Tomorrow will be different, you tell yourself. Tomorrow you’ll be a name, not a number. With a home to return to and a legacy in your wake.

Legacy. That’s what it’s all about, you think as you turn the sword back and forth in your hands. On one side, freshly engraved, is the symbol of your homeland. And on the other, three simple runes, which mean nothing but yourself.