Chapter 10 The Iron

Song  Bon Jovi - You Give Love A Bad Name   Lyrics Lyrics


I think my dad is cheating on my new, hopefully to-be-step-mom.

Every so often he goes off and says he's going to "the gym". What ever that means, leaving me and new mom astonished and dieing with the others. Which is a good, though. But not for family relations.

He says he likes to 'pump the iron'.  That sounds perverted to me. How can you pump iron? He must know some dark things yet undisclosed to me. Some days I wish I were my dad. I  know pumping of water, but where is he pumping the iron to?  And why? I  know also how to stick a dagger into something, but you can hardly call that pumping, you just plug it and out once. Well, sometimes a bit more times. But I would not call that pumping. And it would be a disgrace to call a fine dagger iron.

A dagger, or any good weapon is made of steel. Before you silly mages say anything, let me remind you that your wooden sticks are not weapons, not even threats. They are good only as pokers when you need to take care of the fire. And to burn too. That's why you silly mages have those sticks.

Back to weapons. The sharper, the better. It takes a real blacksmith to forge a weapon. Like my uncle, master Jotunn. He can make anything from a nice chunk of ore and wood, refine them into molten alloy and then caress it with a heavy hammer and finish with whetstone. Marvellous, you should see him work  some steel. He does not even break a sweat while doing it.


I can work with a forge and anvil too! But all I can do are some small shiny things. They're quite nice though, I like to wear them sometimes, though they make me look like a christmas tree of some sort. Like those you see in Logar.

But boy do I hit heavily when I use them! Wow. I can even beat my dad when I have those shiny things on me. Not beat him like to death, but beat him in beating trolls. I call those shiny things "beat dad in beating the trolls, dragons, plants, chupuras, beetles, machines and all mobs accessories".

I guess I could do something nice too if someone wanted. For a reason.


But iron? Dad, I'm worried. About you. And stepmom. Not me. Not this time. Which leaves me puzzled.

Last nigth stepmom was so sad, with dad gone. Maybe I need to do something?  He's told me to do what the stepmom says. What can I do?

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