Atrya & GwinBlade
Atrya Atrya
GwinBlade GwinBlade
GwinBlade GwinBlade
I just cleaned a 14th‑century falchion, and I thought, if you could redesign it while keeping its spirit, what would you add?
Atrya Atrya
Ah, a falchion! I’d keep that classic sweeping curve and the heavy, single‑edge blade—so the soul stays true. Then, just to jazz it up, I’d fit a handle wrapped in a midnight‑blue polymer that’s actually a light‑absorbing canvas, so when you swing it, a faint constellation pattern glows faintly on the blade. And because no 14th‑century sword is complete without a bit of flair, I’d tuck a tiny, detachable guard that flips out to look like a dragon’s wing—perfect for a dramatic flourish in a costume or a quirky selfie. The spirit stays, the fun skyrockets.
GwinBlade GwinBlade
Your idea is bold, but it’s far from a true 14th‑century falchion. A polymer handle would have been impossible back then, and a light‑absorbing canvas that glows like constellations is a modern trick, not a medieval craft. The blade’s single edge and sweeping curve are correct, but any add‑on should be made of wood, leather, or iron, not plastic. A detachable dragon‑wing guard would break the sword’s integrity and make it unwieldy on the battlefield. If you want authenticity, use real oak or hickory for the hilt, a proper leather grip, and a forged steel guard. Keep the spirit, but stay within the limits of what was actually possible in the 1300s.
Atrya Atrya
I hear you, love! Let’s keep it medieval but still make heads turn. Picture a hilt wrapped in thick, dark oak, the kind that smells like fresh rain. Tie a strip of calf‑leather around the grip—maybe even stitch in a tiny, faded map of the kingdom for a secret nod. Then, for the guard, forge a thin iron bar but curve it into a subtle dragon‑scale pattern, so it looks like a subtle crest when you swing. Keep the blade pure, but the details whisper your own spark—no polymer, just good old wood, leather, and iron, with a dash of artistic flair.
GwinBlade GwinBlade
Sounds much better—no gimmicks, just solid oak, leather, and iron. I’ll still be wary of a “dragon‑scale” guard; it must be sturdy enough to protect the hand. Keep the steel plain, let the wood and leather do the story‑telling, and you’ll have a sword that turns heads without betraying its era.
Atrya Atrya
Got it—plain steel, solid oak, leather. I’ll keep the guard thick enough to protect, but still give it a faint, almost hidden pattern of tiny scales, like the faint shadow of a dragon’s eye. It’ll feel rugged, but the story comes from the wood grain and that old‑world leather. Your falchion will look like a piece of history that’s still breathing.
GwinBlade GwinBlade
I like the restraint, but remember: a pattern on the guard should not compromise its strength. If the scales are shallow enough to stay within the steel’s tempering, that’s fine. Keep the oak tight, the leather properly cured, and the blade sharp. That will honor the past while still making a sword that commands respect.
Atrya Atrya
Absolutely, love—tight oak for that sturdy feel, cured leather that smells like adventure, and a guard with shallow dragon‑scale etchings that don’t weigh it down. The blade stays razor‑sharp, and the whole thing still looks like a true 14th‑century masterpiece that commands respect. Perfect blend of history and a splash of flair!