This is my sword. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

My sword is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life.

My sword, without me, is useless. Without my sword, I am useless. I must thrust my sword true. I must strike straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must strike him before he strikes me. I will...

My sword and myself know that what counts in this war is not the swings we make, the noise of our blows, or the sparks we make. We know that it is the hits that count. We will hit...

My sword is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strength, its pommel , its hilt, its guard and its blade. I will keep my sword clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will...

Right, I'm back from the mountain after the big larp, so I'm going to start making stuff once more. Game was not very decent but I opened shop with all the stuff you see made here and actually sold some so at least I had a monetary gain from it.But before that I really must indulge myself with my newest acquisition.Its an Oakshotte type XII, lovingly called by the local reenactors with the name - "The shovel" (because of the broad blade). Its blunted for training purposes and thus slightly unbalanced, but that can be fixed if I ever sharpen it. I'll get better photos once the camera is back in my possession. Even though my arms were nearly falling from the sockets from exhaustion. I couldn't resist trying it out.