- Joined
- Sep 24, 2010
- Messages
- 3,012
Little helper,
It is 20.5 cm / 8 inch long, the blade is 9 cm/ 3.5 inch long with a thickness of 4 mm / 0.15 inch.
It is a damascus san mai with about 200 layers, which I hand forged from 5160, L6 and 1.2516. The handle is made of deer antler and wenge, an exotic wood.
The sheath is made of 4 mm/ 0.16 inch thick, sturdy cowhide.
It is available!
The grumpy old man entered the room and started to immediately hand out orders, like there was an army of obedient slaves listening, ready to jump and make his every wish a reality.
His deep voice thundered with the power of a feral storm:
-feed the the damn birds!
-clean the stables!
-braid my daughters' hair!
-set the tables!
That of course wasn't the case. One single servant stood before him, and a free man at that, not a slave. Hermóðr!
Frightened however from the overwhelming wave of tasks, he pondered, how could all this be done till midnight?
Powerless in front of the monumental task, he seeked the advice of the only one, who might help him. A sibylline witch, who knew the skill of wands. So he ran to the witches' hut and begged her for aid.
The hag frowned upon his request at first, but after a bit of nagging agreed, such was the way of Gullveig. And asked an item, something personal, of him.
He handed his most precious thing over and stared with awe, as she enchanted the small blade.
An occult aura surrounded the blade, luring but terrible.
Hermóðr was mesmerized by the sight. He thanked Gullveig for the help and rushed back to the long house to complete his tasks.
Feeding Hugin and Munin took less than a moment.
Shoveling the stables clean from the manure took no more than a few seconds. Even Sleipnir got a good strapping!
Braiding the hair of the 13 Valkyries was 2 minutes at most.
And setting the endless tables of the great feasting hall of Valhalla was also done till sunset.
Hermóðr sat at the end of the table when Odin arrived. Grumpy as ever he slapped the shaft of Gungnir to the ground, shattering the floor stone, while his words thundered through the great hall:
-is it ready, boy?
Hermóðr couldn't answer. He collapsed from exhaustion and finally faded away into nothingness.
Meanwhile at the hut, the primordial witch rejuvenated.
Such was the way of Gullveig.
It is 20.5 cm / 8 inch long, the blade is 9 cm/ 3.5 inch long with a thickness of 4 mm / 0.15 inch.
It is a damascus san mai with about 200 layers, which I hand forged from 5160, L6 and 1.2516. The handle is made of deer antler and wenge, an exotic wood.
The sheath is made of 4 mm/ 0.16 inch thick, sturdy cowhide.
It is available!
The grumpy old man entered the room and started to immediately hand out orders, like there was an army of obedient slaves listening, ready to jump and make his every wish a reality.
His deep voice thundered with the power of a feral storm:
-feed the the damn birds!
-clean the stables!
-braid my daughters' hair!
-set the tables!
That of course wasn't the case. One single servant stood before him, and a free man at that, not a slave. Hermóðr!
Frightened however from the overwhelming wave of tasks, he pondered, how could all this be done till midnight?
Powerless in front of the monumental task, he seeked the advice of the only one, who might help him. A sibylline witch, who knew the skill of wands. So he ran to the witches' hut and begged her for aid.
The hag frowned upon his request at first, but after a bit of nagging agreed, such was the way of Gullveig. And asked an item, something personal, of him.
He handed his most precious thing over and stared with awe, as she enchanted the small blade.
An occult aura surrounded the blade, luring but terrible.
Hermóðr was mesmerized by the sight. He thanked Gullveig for the help and rushed back to the long house to complete his tasks.
Feeding Hugin and Munin took less than a moment.
Shoveling the stables clean from the manure took no more than a few seconds. Even Sleipnir got a good strapping!
Braiding the hair of the 13 Valkyries was 2 minutes at most.
And setting the endless tables of the great feasting hall of Valhalla was also done till sunset.
Hermóðr sat at the end of the table when Odin arrived. Grumpy as ever he slapped the shaft of Gungnir to the ground, shattering the floor stone, while his words thundered through the great hall:
-is it ready, boy?
Hermóðr couldn't answer. He collapsed from exhaustion and finally faded away into nothingness.
Meanwhile at the hut, the primordial witch rejuvenated.
Such was the way of Gullveig.
