Here's my entry to Loot Crate Lightsaber contest:) (There is a short story about the sword below)

 

I designed this sword with obvious inspiration from the Viking era swords as I felt I've never seen something like that before.

 

Please enter this link and give it a like: https://gleam.io/g/rbS3p/1kr62

 

Also, Here's a short story I wrote down as a background to the sword's origin and it's rediscovery... After all it is a sword from a long time ago... smile emoticon Please read and let me know what you think!

 

Through the mist of clouds, a dark shape was climbing up the mountain side. The high peaks of the mountain range known as Val-al-ha was said to be unclimbable. Brandr gritted his teeth as he threw his arm upwards to find a new leverage. With sweat running down his face and burning his eyes he did not stop. Even when he could feel every fiber in his muscles, he did not stop. They said he was strong with the force. But there was nothing the force could do to help him here. Eventually, after what felt like days of climbing without rest, he made it to the top. Gods he was tired, but he knew there was no time to rest. There was a war raging down there on the surface, a war which has divided his world and his side was losing. Brandr was a renowned warrior, a charismatic leader and a fearsome enemy to those fighting against him. Yet in this war, that was just not enough.

 

He pushed through the pain and fatigue and walked on from the ledge and into the clearing. Surrounded by great stones engraved with intricate glyphs, stood a smoking alter. The smoke rose from an opening in the center of the alter which reached Brandr's chest. "So the legends were true, at least in that regards" he thought to himself out loud. He knew it was a long shot, but in dire times, one must take high risks. "We have been waiting for you!" a voice suddenly boomed as a face appeared floating over the alter. It was unrecognizable to Brandr and it seemed to flicker in and out of existence all the while distorting and altering. "You are the one who is destined to end this war. You shall bring balance to this world once again," the voice continued, "as it once was, so shall it be again." Brandr, shocked with awe and fear, braced himself and found his resolve once again as he stepped closer to the alter and the ever changing floating head and said: "I will face what comes next. I will end this war once and for all. Will you help me, ancient one?"

 

Slowly, from the smoking hole, rose a beautiful sword's hilt. Its guard was decorated with intricate runes and glyphs and what seemed like a glistening red jewel in the center. The hilt was wrapped with fine leather and on the pommel were even more intricate glyphs surrounding what seemed like a symbol. To Brandr that symbol spoke of hope. It did not matter that it was an old sword. It did not matter that it was scratched, dented and worn out. It was still the most beautiful sword he had ever seen. But as it rose, he was surprised to see it did not have a blade. "Take this sword, young one," The voice boomed. And despite his surprise he did, holding it firmly in his hand. "Now, hold it forward and focus all your force into it. Become part of the sword." Brandr did not doubt the voice. He has gone through hell and back to get to this point so there was no point in having doubts now. He put all of himself into the sword until a bright fiery orange blade burst out, bringing light into the shadows. "With this sword, none could best you. Forged in ancient and forgotten times by an even more ancient order, it will cut through anything," the voice boomed, "It is unique. A holy remnant of forgotten heroes and now, it is yours to wield," the voice said as it flickered one last time and disappeared. Brandr took the sword and as he turned to make his way back he whispered: "thank you ancient one, may the force be with you."