Caprine Sword

A warrior, a true warrior, is one that sees battles and charges into it roaring.
A devout follower of Aries, god of War, you wield his mark and leave it upon the flesh of all who would dare oppose the will of your deity.

Your deity, for as a warrior, you need no other. 

Almost all LARP weapons are made from a foam that is then covered in a plasticised acrylic-latex paint. If not maintained, this paint eventually dries out and can flake or crack. To avoid, a silicon outer coat is applied to all weapons but is slowly worn off as the weapon strikes other weapons, shields and armour. Maintenance spray ensures your weapons are kept in the best condition possible by reinforcing this silicon layer and keeping the PAX paint underneath it moist and supple.
It should be applied after every combat, or at least once a month.

Available in 150ml or 400ml spray packs, and a 250ml pump pack.

Into the forgotten ruins you carefully tred, your Orc Cleaver grasped tight in your barbaric fist. The wind whips through the walls, cold and ruthless.

While there might be old traps and the danger of frostbite, you continue with no hint of fear. You are a brave northern warrior, and you’ve come to hunt down the elusive winter stag now hiding within these walls. You will slay it with your sword and bring it home to your people.

Some consider you crazed. Perhaps you are not in your right mind, but then--who cares? No one dares to insult you to your face. You are too powerful. Too frightening.

With your Dark Elven Shadow Blade, you are a deadly and respected figure in the underground community. When you pass by, all pause and hold their breath.

The again-walker's eyes were lit with balefire. It had died a hero, but had still been denied entry to the Valhall. It had been tasked with standing vigil inside the burial chambers in case the people of Eyri ever came returned to take back what had once been theirs. The only comfort to be found in its sluggish thoughts, as black as the skin of the draug itself, was that at least its sword could change size with it and slay even a fierce jotunn.

There are those that fear the draug and the mighty blades that they wield. Those people have yet to meet true fear, for at least you can hit one of the drauger and, if you are made of the stuff of heroes, come away to tell the tale.

But how many have died of fright in their very sleep, falling to the blades of the Mara? 

The underdark is your domain. In the pitch blackness, the smell of damp earth all around, you wait with your raiding party. When night falls on the lands above, you will emerge.

The sun-lovers have come to fear you and the silence in which you strike. With your Bone Blade, you are able to maneuver in the shadows until your target is exactly where you want them. You are formidable. You are the assassin.

The dark crevices of society is your domain. In the safety of your lair you review the bounties you have collected, considering your next target. When night falls upon the land, you will emerge.

The cityfolk have come to fear you and the silence in which you strike. With your leather gear and Assassin sword, you are able to maneuver in the shadows until your target is exactly where you want him. You are formidable. You are the assassin.