Innovation

It was time to begin my inventing. I had secured my home and cleared it out of its previous inhabitants, managing to keep a couple servants who joined me in thanks for ridding them of their previous master. There were only 3 out of the original 28, but any help was better than no help at all. I located the study on the third floor, and spread out my inventions blueprints and plans across the desk. I set out several pouches full of certain supplies, strips of leather, metal ingots and tools, my papers, and a jar of ink with a quill. I retreated to my new bedroom to prepare myself. I took off my native attire, and found a long noble-looking crimson robe lined with gold silk in the closet. I put it on and returned to the study. On the way, I passed one of my new servants. "Bring me two bowls of water, one hot and one cold, as well as a rag and a strip of something firm, like leather. Also bring me a bottle of whiskey. Please and thank you." I finished with a bow and my servant smiled and retreated to the other end of the house to fetch my supplies.

Next, I would look at the plans I had drawn. I would take the dimensions of my original battle dirks, and would apply it to these mechanisms. The problem here was that I had developed two ideas. The process today would not only involve some personal pain, but I would have to combine both of these ideas into one final project. It was a magnificent plan, really. I was nervous however. I had never been able to sit down and actually work on my inventing, since I got my supplies I had been forced to keep running to safety. Well, with this little bugger, I could begin my assault back, and they wouldn't even notice a thing. I would now begin my work on the "Hidden Blade," as I like to call it.

The idea behind the Hidden Blade is to conceal the knife under simple sleeves, pop it out, make the kill, and withdraw it back into hiding within seconds. It was the perfect murder mechanism. Quiet enough to not be seen, and quick enough to be subtle, yet personal. Which is what I wanted, since they had made it personal.

The designs for the blade itself. The blade and mechanism would have to be attached or welded to a bracer of some kind. The mechanism and knife will have to made separately, then attached all at once. I withdrew my original drawing on a piece of elk skin of the mechanism and knife:



I would have to attach the hilt of the knife to a small chain, which I then would attach to a ball bearing and lever there at the forearm near the palm. I would include in the chain a notch, so as to lock into place concealed when not in use. The blade would be gravity-operated, seeing as though that is the easiest way of going about this. With a flick downward, the blade extends from the mechanism and locks again when it is out all the way. To put it back, I would simply hold my arm at an elevation, and flick it again to make it withdraw and lock into its concealed form once again.

There is one problem however, and this is where the pain comes in.

Unfortunately, I cannot work correctly with a calm mind under severe pain, so that will have to come later. For now, I would have to skip that. After I had finished the first mechanism, I would begin on the next. My idea was to have one blade like the one I had just built, and another one that could be used more efficiently in combat should the need arise. I would want it to still be hidden however. Instead of just a blade coming out, the blade on this next one would come out with its hilt included. Then, with a flick of the wrist, the blade would fold over along with the hilt, to hopefully look like my next diagram:



This would be simple, as I would just have to build a hinge along the hilt, so it could fold like that. I would also have to make the chain inside the mechanism a bit longer to adapt to more of the actual weapon coming out of the bracer. I had prepared for this however, and pulled out the longer chain I had already made from my satchel.

After about an hour, work on that mechanism was complete. I would then use welding to attach each mechanism to makeshift leather bracers (which is what the leather strips I had set out on the table were for). These bracers were insufficient for any defensive purposes whatsoever. Their only real function is to hold the blade back against the forearm in place. After both blades were complete, my problem came into play.

The first blade, the one designed only for stealthy kills, had a drawback. In order to firmly grip the blade in place, a fist must be made. But if the fist was made, it would get in the way of the blade coming out itself. The other blade's rotation and hilt would provide the means for it to be held in place, but this one didn't have that. This would require me to get rid of some of something getting in the way of the blade coming out, so I could successfully make a fist around the blade to hold it in place. I would need to cut off the ring finger on my left hand.

As I had finished the other two, the servant had returned with what I had asked for. He set both the warm and cold water dishes on the table in front of me, and handed me the whiskey and leather strip. I put the strip in my mouth, so I could bite down on it, after I took a drink from the whiskey to ease the pain a tad. I dipped my hand in the warm water to rinse it off, and then my knife into the cold water. The contrasting temperatures would cause my skin to split easier when the cold blade it hit.

I then held out my hand on the table with my fingers spread, and raised the knife above my head with my right hand. I closed my eyes and began to grasp what I was about to do. I was going to cut off my own finger. My servant stood on standby with the rag to hold the bleeding when I was finished. In one final moment, I dropped the blade onto my hand, and felt my finger pop when it left the rest of my hand. Pain shot through my arm and my vision went blurry. "Holy fuck!" I yelled out in pain.

This wasn't it though, along with the pain of losing the finger, came the next pain to add onto it. I had to disinfect it properly, and that required the whiskey. I had my bleeding hand in place against the surface of the table and tried to keep a level head. I grabbed the whiskey bottle with my free hand, and began pouring it on my wound. A burning, singeing sensation filled he already in pain gap on my hand, and I let out another howl.

"Ahh!" I yelled in pain against the leather strip in my mouth. "The rag! Give me the rag!" my horrified servant quickly gave my the towel, and I wrapped my hand in it. "Clean this up, please." I said as I nodded towards the desk. Immediately after, I passed out and collapsed onto the ground. My finger was gone, the wound was disinfected, and a rag was present around it to stop the bleeding. I had accomplished everything to make this successful before blacking out. Good. It would take several days for the wound to heal and I to use my new weapon, but here is a diagram of what I would look like wielding it:

Here's a picture of a fist being balled around it just for clarification: