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Pieter-Paul Derks

"Regicide" KITH

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Hello everyone, It feels like the time has come to get started on my KITH


Seeing people write elaborate and awesome stories about their pieces made me want to add a bit of backstory to my knife,so I tried to write a little bit.


Come to think of it, the last time I wrote something fictional must have been in high school a few years ago, so don't expect too much of my writing skills.

Let's get started:


''Long ago in a distant land, there lived an elderly king. Although he had a few shortcomings, as most kings do, he was much loved by his people and by his family and he was a good and generous man.

As time passed the day came that the king celebrated fifty years of ruling, he held a grand feast and as gifts to his sons and closest friends, he offered them all a dagger with the handle sculpted in his own likeness. ( lack of humility was one of the shortcomings which the king suffered.)

Needless to say, most were very pleased by this gift, and loudly wished the king another fifty years of ruling.

All but one: The king's eldest son and heir to the throne.

He had waited most of his adult life to rise to the throne and every year he got more annoyed with the fact that his father never resided and even seemed to be healthier every passing year.

He was not planning on waiting the rest of his life for getting the power and fortune that he had craved for so long.

In his mind formed the most terrible of plans: Regicide.


When the old king was sleeping, the murderous prince snuck into the royal bedchamber with the dagger he was given earlier that day, freshly sharpened and gleaming bright...


upon hearing a bloodshredding scream that shook the entire castle, guards ran into the royal bedchamber, and saw the prince standing there, covered in blood.


The prince panicked at the sight of the guards and dashed towards the window above the moat, where he had planned to escape.

Before the guards could say a word, he jumped out, dropping the dagger on the floor.

However in his panic, or just by a twist of fate, the prince chose the wrong window and fell to his demise onto the stone bridge that spanned the castle's moat.


One of the guards examined the dagger left behind at the dead kings bedside, that which he saw sent a cold shiver down his spine:


The carved image of the king on the daggers handle had changed, where that morning it had been a serene and dignified portrait of the old king, it had now morphed into a terrifying screaming face, almost as if recording the dying kings last moment.''




At the moment I only have a design ready, but I will try to start forging soon, when I finish some old work that has been lying around for too long.


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Yeah, that's a good one!!! 

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