Shrine of the Falcata

The Large, Black , Foreboding Dun of Culann Brigantes -- [Entrance ] [Shrine of the Falcata ] [Arsenal ] [personal commode ] [Private Garden Closed]

There it is...the famous Falcata of Instant Arsehole Destruction...serving the tribes of Britannia, Hibernia, Caledonia, and Gaul, and generally making life really crappy for Romans everywhere...

Loaded and reinforced with all his battle gear, he began to work himself up into a fighting fury. A spasm tore through his body. It distorted him, made him a monstrous thing. Every bone and organ shook like a tree in a storm. His insides made a twist within his skin. His shins filled with the bulging muscles of his calves. Balls of sinew as big as a warrior's fist pumped up his body. His head swelled and throbbed. Veins dilated. Suddenly,he gulped one eye deep into its socket so that not even a wild crane could pull it out from his skull. The skin of his cheeks then peeled back to reveal the gristle and bone of his gullet. His jaws crashed together and foam oozed up out of his throat. His hair twisted and bristled like a thornbush. Dazzling lights and thick black smoke rose above his head. A broad halo emerged above his brow. With the transformation complete, he leapt into his chariot. He had no fear. He was a mad-man...a hero..

- from the Tain bo Cuailgne

"The Celts fought with spears and knives, but, above all, they wielded the falcata, which could cut the arms at the shoulder and sever heads with one chop..."

- Livy

And WHAT would a good Celtic chieftain be without his trusty chariot?