Viking swords have always fascinated me because of both their rarity and the reverence they held within Viking culture. During the Iron Age, swords were difficult to produce, and the rituals surrounding their creation became deeply mythologized. Swords have always been tied to legend, but I think the Vikings embraced that relationship more than most cultures.
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Axes and spears were far more common on the battlefield. They were practical weapons for shield-wall combat and quick, decisive strikes. Because swords were typically used alongside a shield, many early Viking blades had relatively modest crossguards. I wanted Frostvein to follow that same philosophy. It's a sword meant to be wielded in tandem with a shield, one capable of protecting its bearer from both enemy blows and the supernatural frost carried by the blade itself.
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One thing I don't particularly love about fantasy swords is that the more magical they become, the less believable they often feel. Their silhouettes become increasingly exaggerated until they barely resemble swords at all. That's an interesting artistic exercise, but with these artifacts I wanted each one to remain grounded in a recognizable historical touchstone.
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For Frostvein, I leaned toward the shape language of early Viking swords. I also wanted the blade to have a fractured texture. I go ice fishing, and one of my favorite parts of being out on the ice is studying the compressed layers beneath my feet. Hairline fractures catch the light in beautiful ways, creating patterns that are never quite the same twice. Nature is often the best designer, so I wanted the blade to borrow directly from those frozen textures. The flares along the edge were also designed to resemble wind-carved snowdrifts.
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The hilt was especially fun because I chose a warm reddish-orange wood to create a complementary color palette. I also always enjoy incorporating zoomorphic interlacing into Viking-inspired designs. The intricate patterns on the crossguard ended up being one of my favorite details.

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