The Hoard

When reading a blog about any subject, you want to know one thing: what makes this author think he has any right to talk about, and make me read, what he is writing about? Where does his experience come from? This solid question has not escaped me. So, in the spirit of being a firm believer in the functionality of all things, not just the written word or the sword, I will divulge and analyze the various pieces in my personal collection, the attributes and detriments of each piece, and prove to you, my faithful readership, that I have, at least, the experience and the true love, for all steeled tools of war.

In my youth, my impulsive, and often uneducated beginnings, I will admit I was a complete spendthrift when it came to the purchase of a sword. I received my first blade at the age of 16 years. A rat tail tang decorative claymore that was given to me by my parents as a Christmas gift.



I handled this weapon once. And, despite it shabby construction, awkward weight, and balance, and misshapen blade, I was instantly hooked into the world of weapons for good.

Over the years and the paychecks, I built for myself a small collection of different weapons; choosing at random the swords that looked the "coolest"; baffling my parents and siblings, and yes impressing a few of my cousins and friends with my collection. A good start. To this day, I still know all of my pieces and can still recall all of their origins. However, I know that if it ever really came down to it, I know I would probably be better off using foul language or just plain running like a little girl than depend on the often over priced rat tail tang construction of the dreaded eBay special.



The one point that I hope you will come away with from this post, and I appreciate your kind attention in reading it, is that you must be precise and selective in your choice of a sword. In ancient warrior cultures, the sword was an extension of the warrior. It was the self discipline, self worth, confidence, personal artistic expression, and often times, the trusted friend and defender manifested in strong steel. Homes, families, honor, livelihoods, and even nations were defended by sharpened steel. If the blade was flimsy, inferior, or was tempered poorly, the warrior would surely fall and all he held dear would come to an often horrible and violent end.

In modern days, the days of guns, where any fool can be just as deadly and dangerous as any other, there is little point in choosing the right steel. However, for those of us who still carry the tradition and real love for the sword, the right choice can distinguish and define us as collectors and as disciples of the blade.

Choose well. Stay alive.