Something very peculiar has been happening. Unk has been acting, um, dare I say it, intelligently. He chopped a thick branch off a tree, trimmed it, and took me to the cart where he mimed taking out my chest of tools. I assented as I assumed he was asking permission to use them. He then took a battered breastplate I had lying around and bashed it into shape to fit the thick end of the branch. He bashed a few rivets into it, and with a bit more work had a very serviceable though primitive club / morning star.
He was so pleased with himself I could swear he danced around in an orcish sort of way. He held it up and showed me how he would swing it. Then he said a word... he said "SMASHER"! So the first word he ever says to me and it's a name for his new weapon?
Sunday, March 18, 2007
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