Swept-hilt Rapier

Tvöfaldur Beittur Sverð - Double Edged Sword

dashingaesir:

Sif had been more than happy to help out her dear friend, and of course it wouldn’t feel right having them go off to battle without her. She had spent far too long at the palace dividing her time between training the warriors and working on strategy with Odin and some other advisers. She was bored to tears and was thankful for a chance to shed some blood. The look on Hogun’s face when she happily accepted was all too familiar. She knew that she must have had a wicked grin on her face at the time. He and her other friends knew how badly she needed a break.

Arriving at Vanaheimr had been such a disappointment. There had barely been a fight, and most had dropped their weapons at the mere sight of them. Sif glared angrily at the hostages as if daring one of them to step out of line – to challenge her in some way. She had come for blood, but alas, it seemed as though she would have none today. She sighed as she sheathed her sword and helped restrain and line up the prisoners. She kept reminding herself that she did this for Hogun, not herself, and that hopefully this would end the problems for this village and the ones nearby.

She turned around suddenly when she heard a commotion. When she saw Fandral being struck in the face with his own sword she groaned and started to run towards him. “Odin’s bloody eye socket,” she grumbled as she withdrew her own sword. She punched the man holding Fandral’s sword with her sword hand, knocking him to the ground. She then grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him up towards her, as she pointed her blade at his chest. “Give me one good reason why I should not run you through where you sit.” She raised an eyebrow. “My sword begs for blood this day – I see no reason why it should not be yours.” She glared down at him, her sword gleaming in the fading light. The man mumbled something under his breath. Sif pulled him closer. “WHAT DID YOU SAY?” His eyes flickered from her to the sword and back again, a steely resolve forming in them. He spit in her face. Sif threw him in the dirt and pushed him down forcefully with her boot, her sword pointing at his neck. She calmly wiped the spit off her face. “Od’s eye Fandral, you bring me the nicest things.” She smiled sarcastically at him before turning her attention back to the man trapped beneath her foot.

“As much as I would love to rip out your heart or have your head set on a pike I have a feeling that I would be remiss if I didn’t question you further.” She smiled at him. “It seems that you are a much bigger problem than just a lone vandal.” She tipped his head back with the end of her sword, before speaking in a honeyed tone. “But I cannot let your insult go without any retribution now can I?” She brought her sword around and over her head before bringing in down swiftly where his left arm met his shoulder. He cried out in pain. She bent down and put her fingers under his chin, forcing him to look at her through the tears. “Be thankful I didn’t take more…..for now.”

Sif looked up at Fandral. “Just what the Hel were you thinking any way? Do you think yourself invincible?” She glared at him. “Now help clean up the mess you created.” She motioned to the wailing one armed man. “I will not stand for any Aesir bashing on my watch and I fear he is not alone. Perhaps this was just meant to get our attention and bring us here.” She scowled. “Though hopefully he is alone.” She grinned. “In either case at some point I can lop his head off soon.” She marched towards the others to explain the situation.

He is momentarily blinded by the pain. He had not expected to be struck. It’s not the pain that makes his eyes water upon receiving it, it’s simply that it came while he felt completely at ease.

His hands leave the reins to press onto his face - mostly his nose. He can already taste the copper on his tongue so he is most likely bleeding. Either he’s embarrassing himself and broke his nose, or it’s just a split lip. His face is throbbing like a single heart - the pains indistinguishable - at least for now. 

It could have become far more serious if Sif hadn’t been looking for a fight already. He would have given the man enough time to draw his stolen sword, to knock him off his horse or worse. 

He keeps one hand pressed to his nose and stays seated on his horse for now - while he would like to reclaim his sword Sif is currently in the way. And he does not want to move his horse while a man could still possibly injure it. 

He cranes his neck upwards when he realized it is indeed his nose that’s bleeding into his beard just in time for Sif to raise her voice. She had been in quite a mood all day he had noticed - perhaps she also does not get enough sleep these days.

When he hears his name he just has the time to see her smile out of the corner of his eye. If he had planned on goading the man into resisting he would have done so with more grace and less personal injury - but if it pleases Lady Sif. “Pleased to please.” He says under his breath and swipes at the blood on his face probably just smearing it acroos like grotesque warpaint.

Sif seems to have the man under control which is why Fandral gently steers his horse a little to the side and dismounts. He has his back turned when her speech turns violent so the only warning he gets is the gentle sound of her weapon before the man howls in pain, obscuring the wet sound it probably made.

“As thankful as I am.” He begins slowly as he takes a step forward to take in the mess that he apparently created. “That doesn’t seem necessary.” 

He will strip off his messy gloves on the ride back, they are already tipped in blood from his own face. Handling the man they are sure to be soaked in it.

He was about to bend forward with his hands on his hips to get a better look at the man when he remembered - still full of blood - so halfway through the motion he straightens up once more. 

An arrow misses him by a mere breath and breaks through the mans skull, diving so deep the feathers touch his skin.

It takes a second for him to draw breath and yell “Archers!” before he takes a few steps back in case the next Arrow doesn’t miss his mark. If he was even the target and didn’t just get in the way. 

Loki: Agent of Asgard Issue #12

Reblog if you don't mind RPing ships without smut

Seiðr

Origin:

Asgardians define Seidr as: “magic/scorcery that is used to understand, experience and influence reality through rituals, symbols, actions, gestures and language”.

The more elaborate explanation given to those who question it: it is the collective name for both wielding and possessing one of the many forces that has existed since the beginning of time, a primordial element that is present in all that is living. As any type of matter it cannot be destroyed or created, only revealed or released and manipulated to be used for many workings that affect the physical.

It is believed to be the ‘life force’ that brought the primeval being Ymir into existence, the ancestor of the jötunar.  The innate ability to use Seiðr is thus most present in the Jötunar, Vanir, Alfheimr’s Elves and some Aesir with similar heritage. (1)  Control and the use of the force has been taught to the Aesir that do not possess the ability since birth, most prominently by Frigga although actual teachings have only been present since the end of the Aesir-Vanir war (2). It is practiced and studied excessively since then and became a commodity among the Asgardians over time. At the present a large portion of the population is well-practiced in the use of it, applying it to everyday life whilst Asgard itself benefits from various enhancements because of it.

Practices:

Illusions: to disguise/change/enhance what is seen.

Divination: to gain insight into a question/situation.

Rune/Sigil workings:  to improve/strengthen/enhance an object and it’s ingrained qualities, affecting whichever is in proximity of said object.

Channeling:  to guide/manipulate present elemental forces.

Communication: to convey emotions/thoughts without speech, to tune oneself with energies emitted by whichever is near.

Practitioners are of both genders, however the affinity for it seems to be more prevalent in females. It is taught by templars and priestesses who devote most of their time to perfect and increase their abilities, recording their findings. 

Effects:

Asgardians that possess and excessively use Seiðr  are prone to fevers and fatigue. Prolonged usage eventually forces the physical body to slip into a near comatose state in which only the bare minimum is registered by the consciousness.  Considering his rather strong mind and control over powers  Odin is known to be quite aware of his surroundings whilst in Odinsleep.

There are levels in competence and endurance while practicing  Seiðr; for some it feels as easy as breathing and walking, only noting they are performing the task when complexity is increased. Exertion is naturally linked to the level of concentration and effort needed to perform the task.

OOC Footnotes:

Unconscious competence to wield Seiðr and possession of powers of any kind seems to be species related.  Not all Asgardians have powers and it is very likely due to the genetic code. For example Odin is half- Jötunn, making Thor a quarter-Jötunn, also seemingly quite a bit of Odin’s offspring are noted to possess some type of power.

Actual schooling and research only started after peace between the gods was accomplished, it is unlikely that before it full use of it was common among the Aesir since they were mostly power and war driven with little care for the spiritual.

Swept-hilt Rapier

The rapier has a long slender tapering blade of flattened diamond section changing to flattened hexagonal section towards the forte. The border-engraved ricasso tapering towards the base, and it is struck on both sides with a series of small decorative marks together with the letter “T “and a Moor’s head mark (probably that of the bladesmith Andreas Munsten of Solingen). Both sides have the contemporary counterfeit inscription “In Valin Tia” in stamped letters within the short narrow fuller.

The iron hilt of oval bars retaining most of its original blue-black finish has long forward-swept quillon with fluted widening tip, a pair of arms carrying an oval ring-guard, the latter filled with a sprung-in plate boldly pierced with a pattern involving conjoined pairs of opposing C-scrolls. There’s a forward diagonal bar looping from the head of the forward arm to a central point of convergence on the S-shaped outer branch of the knuckle-guard. The inner guard of three slender diagonal bars is made from a single branch, while the domed octagonal pommel is rising to a prominent button.

Sidenotes:

The Yule Lads, or Yulemen, (Icelandic: jólasveinarnir or jólasveinar) are figures from Icelandic folklore who in modern times have become the Icelandic version of Santa Claus.

Icelandic children place a shoe in their bedroom window each evening in the 13 days before Christmas. Every night one Yuletide lad visits, leaving sweets and small gifts or rotting potatoes, depending on how that particular child has behaved on the preceding day. Each Yuletide lad has a specific idiosyncrasy and will therefore behave in a particular manner.

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Pappenheimer Rapier

The sword has a long, straight, double-edged blade of lenticular section, with a double central fuller at the forte featuring remains of engravings in the grooves. The massive, iron hilt keeping most of the original silver plating, consisting of two large sword-shells finely pierced with stars and circles.

Provided with lower rings, other rings linked to the border of the valves, the quillon comes with counter-curved arms enlarged at the ends, while the guard’s end is decorated en suite. The large, vase-shaped pommel has a faceted base and baluster button, while the wooden grip comes iron wire-binding and restored moor’s heads.

Handmade Knives - Vakipuukko IV

The seax made in the Viking age style features a blade of pattern welded steel with twisted, softer layering on the back and layered hard carbon steels on the edge. The handle is made from carved moose antler and salix caprea burl, with brass fittings and leather. The sheath is vegetable tanned leather with brass fittings.

Hunting Sword 

The sword has a curved, single -and false-edged blade, a fuller at the centre and a groove at the back, while the first part is engraved with hunting scenes and floral motifs. The brass grip is engraved with floral motifs, features pierced quillon and shell-guard, and also a pierced cap which can be opened with a button. At the inside can be found various iron tools as fork, knife, needle, etc.

Bifröst's Edge (closed)

Keeping Thor’s sweetheart away from the libraries would have been an impossible task as it was the very first thing she demanded to be led to.

Now that he had actually met the girl he wasn’t entirely sure what Thor saw in her. She was bright and energetic like he had described and a dozen other things that he can see - but she seemed to disappear into the crowd once they had put her into more normal clothing.

His task was to keep any distress and threat away from her - but also not to let her take too much knowledge back to Midgard.

Midgardians are truly terrifying when they possess too much wisdom, they instantly turn it into power. Fandral was playing loose on the last part because it hadn’t actually been an order.

And he actually liked her. He was starting to see what had Thor stare into the remains of the Bifröst for weeks. If a girl like that was on the end of it he would have too.

What was the point in having an enormous library filled with thousands and thousands years of knowledge if no one was allowed in here to get to those precious books? Jane had voiced her protest as loudly and as often as she could manage every time someone escorted her away from the library.

Apparently the Asgardians had gotten tired of this little game and assigned Jane a companion who had been tasked with keeping her away from the library, or at least that’s the impression Jane had gotten.

Fandral carefully, politely diverted Jane in the opposite direction of the library. Jane glanced over her shoulder at the place and memorised some of the landmarks close by so she could retrace her steps back there later. As Jane wasn’t going to be able to nose her way through the library (yet), she might as well enjoy the company and the surroundings.

"You’re a friend of Thor’s, correct? You were in New Mexico when the Destroyer came," Jane asked him as they walked along a beautifully decorated promenade. "Had you ever been to Earth- I mean, Midgard, before then?"

"Indeed I was. We did not have the pleasure of meeting then, but Thor speaks constantly of you so that it feels as if I know you already."

He puts a friendly hand on her shoulder to steer her into a considerably smaller side-street.

"And I have been to Midgard many times, it is a truly fascinating place."

The walls are high to both sides of them now, the left one being a wing of the royal buildings and the other being the secluded bathhouse. 

"We will continue this conversation shortly. Please stand still." Feeling vaguely guilty he uses one of the low hanging lamps to get himself hight enough to grab onto a balcony - after that he just has to use the grooves in the walls to get him another story up. The window to his room has been left open (by accident, but in hindsight very clever) and he bends down out of his window to look onto Jane - faithfully where he had left her.

"Can you catch?" He can't read her expression and he doesn't actually wait for a reply. He quickly looks over the books he has collected over the years, chooses those that might interest her and gently throws them one at a time towards her.