Savchuk is the only dunce 3. Oleksandr Savchuk - Dunce is the one and only

Alexander Savchuk

Balbes - the one and only

Here, Petrovich, a bad person, a concrete radish, did not give time to go home for a normal tourist backpack! He handed me some American filth, from the time of Vietnam, but he didn’t think that the straps were thin. The weight is not small, it cuts the shoulders, and one of the swords rested on the lower back with a crosspiece. Nope, of course I'm a healthy guy, thanks to my ancestors, but not an artiodactyl, dragging this damn trunk for a long time, it's time to take a break.

Where can you relax? Taking a look around the surroundings, he chose a quite decent and clean shop near the extreme entrance of the high-rise building, pulled off the bag from his shoulders, and, taking out a cigarette from his pocket, sat down, stretching his legs with pleasure. Dragging on a bitter haze, I began to think over the further route.

Ask, where did a man come from in a modern city with a backpack full of swords and daggers? Earnings, and prospects for an interesting business. Six months ago, I am a young senior lieutenant, I voluntarily resigned from the ranks of the Ministry of Internal Affairs and in connection with this I began to urgently look for work, because I wanted to eat incredibly. I must say that my dismissal did not happen entirely at my request, rather it was the desire of my boss, in whose machinations with the illegal construction of garages the young operas stuck his nose, and here I am on “free bread”. And since I did not have time to acquire a decent profession, intending to fulfill my duty to protect law and order until retirement, there was only one way left for me: I became a GUARD! Work day - three, although it left a lot of free time, but filled my wallet very sparingly. Actually, I personally do not need much money, in everyday life I am rather modest. What did Sherlock say? A piece of bread, a clean collar. True, sometimes I still wanted to snatch the blessings of civilization, and for them money is needed. Fortunately, I had an apartment, after the death of my mother, my sister and I exchanged parental apartments, and I got a good odnushka in a quiet area. My valiant dad deserted heroically from the family front when I was six years old, and I haven't seen him since. Financial and bodily hunger forced me to look for at least some additional source of income, and since, in the absence of education and connections, I had good physical strength, I had to work with my hands, not my head. During these months I worked as a loader and a taxi driver and a laborer at a construction site. And so, about two months ago, I was taking another client and recognized in him my neighbor in the old apartment, Sergei Petrovich, whom the whole house called simply by his patronymic. I must say, an outstanding personality. Recently exchanged fifty kopecks, a hereditary blacksmith and a great swindler, left a dying factory where he worked for almost thirty years, having sold a summer house and a car, he acquired a small room in an industrial area, where, having built a blacksmith shop and hiring two of his friends as craftsmen, he began to provide for the needs of the population in forged products. The forge, by the way, was very well equipped. There was also a pneumatic hammer, and a horn with electric inflating and exhaust, and various devices. The master was from God, he could forge anything, fences, lattices, various garden and country tricks, all this brought a small but stable income. At one time, Petrovich made good money on ordinary horseshoes. Previously, in almost every house a horseshoe was cheerful for good luck, then this tradition has sunk into oblivion. Agree, where in the modern world to get a horseshoe? There are almost no horses left in the villages, so amateurs breed sometimes. So Petrovich forged a few dozen, and even gave advertisements on the local TV channel, People simply threw packs at him, who to buy home, who for a gift. Then, of course, the excitement subsided, and Petrovich got bored. Earnings is not everything, he wanted unusual orders. He waited and missed. Everything changed a few months ago, when in our city, in a local sports complex, a visiting coach organized training in the possession of medieval edged weapons. Well, there, wave the sword, twist the mace. Now it is fashionable. Entire clubs exist. But this was not the case in our city. This sensei-trainer-master arrived in our virgin lands. But, in order to spur interest, I decided to arrange a visual campaign. His connections turned out to be quite good, and already this summer, a meeting of role-playing teams took place near the local river. Several thousand people came. All hotels quickly turned out to be filled, and private traders made good money on renting out housing. The rally lasted five days, almost the whole city came running to look at it. The valiant knights, with a valiant hoot, looked at each other with strong blows of various swords, the ladies were thrilled, looking at their heroes, the audience rejoiced and threw their caps into the air. Of course, after this, the youth rushed into the section, with a great desire to learn how to hit the enemy just as beautifully and at the same time the hearts of beautiful ladies. As in the 90s, in the wushu and karate sections, and I don’t care what they were mostly led by former wrestlers and boxers. At the same time, the issue arose with the acquisition of weapons and equipment. The owner of the largest chain of stores "Hunting, Fishing, Tourism" quickly fussed, filled out the necessary paperwork, since the recently adopted law allowed this, and began to trade in various necessary goods. But how? The trainer assured that success can only be achieved with his own, painfully studied, sword. In principle, he is right, but I am tormented by vague doubts that he was simply in a share with a local merchant. Of course, the sword can also be ordered via the Internet, but I want to hold it in my hands first, and in our city there is only one person who can sell this business. He bought them in the neighboring area. So Petrovich decided to earn extra money on this wave, he did not have a license to sell, but he could forge and hand over swords for sale. But the main problem arose in the necessary steel. If there were no problems with training swords, they can also be forged from a spring, then with real, sharply sharpened swords that perfectly held this very sharpening, it was not so easy. Indeed, in addition to those who really trained and more or less imagined the possibilities of the sword, there were those who simply longed to hang a “real sword” on the wall so that they could cut a hair on the water and cut a locomotive rail. We have read fantastic books, seen enough films, but there is not enough brain to communicate with specialists. The problem with steel was helped by a friend of Petrovich, a storekeeper of one of the plant's workshops, who, during the next round of his various storerooms and nooks and crannies, accidentally discovered several dozen unaccounted steel bars. In the distant Soviet times, our plant, in addition to completely peaceful products, worked on military orders, and saving money was not accepted in the defense industry. So they brought in materials with a margin. Of course, over the past time, most of the stocks have been stolen, but there were places where no human foot had set foot for decades. It is in such pantries and nooks that one can still find bales with red banners, and a cannon barrel and a periscope from a submarine, it is not known how and when they found themselves there. It was in such a forgotten warehouse that the required materials were found. Marking on them made it possible to understand that this type of steel is, by the way, suitable for the manufacture of high-quality weapons. Negotiations took place at Petrovich's house, arguments at 0.5 and polishing arguments at 1.5 were used, and as a result, the high parties came to an agreement. It was easy to remove the heritage of the Land of Soviets, because there was always enough holes in the fence of the plant.

Alexander Savchuk

Balbes - the one and only

Now there was a problem in the information, after all, Petrovich was not a gunsmith, and he only heard about the differences in swords, about balancing and sharpening methods. It seems that all the information is on the Internet, but the conservative Petrovich did not use a computer, calling it "overseas horseradish pig." It was on such an evening, when Petrovich was thinking about overcoming a new problem, that we met. Here I offered him my modest services, having discussed in advance that later he would teach me blacksmithing. From childhood I went crazy from any cold weapon, the brilliance of knives fascinated me, I saw swords only in the museum. And what man at least once in his life did not imagine himself on the battlefield in armor and with a sparkling blade in his hands. And the knife is the younger brother of the sword. And if swords in our time have remained only for collectors and lovers of the Middle Ages, then the knife has not gone away, and indeed, the knife is the most faithful companion of mankind, it was with him in the Stone Age, and will be in space. Seeing an interesting knife from a friend, I could beg for it for a year, but still received the cherished blade. Since childhood, I also did not like knives made in mass production, they are somehow boring, soulless, a homemade knife is a completely different matter! Within the boundaries of our city there were two colonies, and where there are prisoners, there is production. There were many real masters among the inmates, sometimes they created real masterpieces. Yes, and at the dying plant there were enough smart craftsmen. Despite the abundance of piercing and cutting objects in my house, I never found MY knife. How many times it happened, I order a knife, the exact dimensions of the ladies, they bring the finished product, I look, it’s not that! Once again, another knife was sent to a wooden box in which I kept my collection. I can't say that they were bad blades. There were many excellent examples among them, with excellent blade shape, wonderful balance, excellent sharpening and gripping handle, but none of them I could ever call my knife. To be honest, I myself did not know what kind of knife I needed. Therefore, I decided to learn how to forge myself in order to try to make my own dream.

Alexander Savchuk

The one and only

* * *

Petrovich, a bad person, a concrete radish, did not give time to go home for a normal tourist backpack! He handed me some American filth, from the time of Vietnam, but did not think about the fact that the straps were thin. The weight is rather big, it cuts the shoulders, and one of the swords rested on the small of the back with a crosspiece. Nah, of course, I’m a healthy guy, thanks to my ancestors, but not an artiodactyl, dragging this damn trunk for a long time, it’s time to take a break.

Where can you relax? Glancing around the surroundings, he chose a quite decent and clean shop near the extreme entrance of the high-rise building, pulled off the bag from his shoulders and, taking out a cigarette from his pocket, sat down, stretching his legs with pleasure. Inhaling the bitter smoke, I began to think over the further route.

Ask, where did a man with a backpack full of swords and daggers come from in a modern city? Earnings and prospects for an interesting business. Six months ago, I, a young senior lieutenant, voluntarily resigned from the ranks of the Ministry of Internal Affairs and in connection with this I began to urgently look for a job, because I really wanted to eat. Well, how about your own? In fact, no one asked me what I wanted. It was my boss's desire, in whose machinations with the illegal construction of garages the young operas stuck his nose, and here I am on free bread. There is no decent profession, a Swiss bank account for a few lemons, too. Chose the easiest way, became a security guard! The work is not dusty, in three days, there is plenty of free time, but the salary leaves much to be desired. Actually, I personally do not need much money, in everyday life I am rather modest. What did Sherlock Holmes say? A piece of bread, a clean collar. True, sometimes I still wanted to snatch the blessings of civilization, and for them money is needed. Fortunately, I had an apartment, after the death of my mother, my sister and I exchanged parental apartments, and I got a good odnushka in a quiet area. My valiant dad deserted heroically from the family front when I was six years old, and I haven't seen him since. Financial and bodily hunger forced me to look for at least some additional source of income, and since, in the absence of education and connections, I had good physical strength, I had to work with my hands, not my head. During these months, I worked as a loader, and a taxi driver, and as a laborer at a construction site.

And now, about two months ago, I was taking another client and I recognized in him my neighbor in the old apartment, Sergei Petrovich, whom the whole house called simply by his patronymic. I must say, an outstanding personality. Recently exchanged fifty kopecks, an excellent blacksmith and a great swearer, left the dying factory, where he worked for almost thirty years. He sold his dacha and car, bought a small building in an industrial area, where he built a blacksmith shop. He hired two of his friends as craftsmen, began to provide for the needs of the population in forged products. The forge, by the way, was very well equipped. There was also a pneumatic hammer, and a horn with electric supercharging and exhaust, and various devices. The master was from God, he could forge anything: fences, lattices, various garden and country tricks - all this brought a small but stable income. At one time, Petrovich made good money on ordinary horseshoes. Previously, almost every house hung a horseshoe for good luck, then this tradition has sunk into oblivion. Agree, where in the modern world to get a horseshoe? There are almost no horses left in the villages, so amateurs sometimes breed. So Petrovich forged several dozen, and even gave advertising on the local TV channel. People flocked to him, who to buy home, who for a gift. Then, of course, the excitement subsided, and Petrovich got bored. Earnings are not everything, he wanted unusual orders.

Everything changed a few months ago, when a visiting coach in our city sports complex began to teach those who wished to use medieval melee weapons. Well, wave a sword there, twist a mace. Now it is fashionable. Entire clubs exist. But this was not the case in our city. This sensei-trainer-master arrived in our virgin lands. But, in order to spur interest, I decided to arrange a visual campaign. His connections turned out to be quite good, and already this summer a meeting of role-playing teams took place near the local river. Several thousand people came. All hotels quickly turned out to be filled, and private traders made good money on renting out housing. The rally lasted five days, almost the whole city came running to look at it. The valiant knights hooted at each other with powerful blows of various swords, the ladies were thrilled, looking at their heroes, the audience rejoiced and threw their caps into the air. Of course, after this, the youth rushed into the section with a great desire to learn how to hit the enemy just as beautifully and at the same time the hearts of beautiful ladies. As in the nineties in wushu and karate sections, and I don’t care that they were mainly led by former wrestlers and boxers. At the same time, the issue arose with the acquisition of weapons and equipment. The owner of the largest chain of stores "Hunting, Fishing, Tourism" quickly fussed, filled out the necessary paperwork, since the recently adopted law allowed this, and began to trade in the necessary goods. But how? The trainer assured that success can only be achieved with his own, studied to the smallest detail sword. In principle, he is right, but I have a vague suspicion that he simply had a share with a local merchant. Of course, the sword can also be ordered via the Internet, but I would like to hold it in my hands first, and in our city there is only one person who can sell this business. He bought them in the neighboring area. So Petrovich decided to earn extra money on this wave, he did not have a license to sell, but he could forge and hand over swords for sale. The main problem was the required steel. If it is possible to forge training swords even from a spring, then with real, sharply sharpened swords that perfectly held this very sharpening, everything was not so simple. After all, besides those who really trained and more or less imagined the possibilities of the sword, there were those who longed to hang a “real sword” on the wall so that they could cut hair on the water and cut a locomotive rail. We have read fantastic books, seen enough films, but there is not enough brain to communicate with specialists.

A friend of Petrovich, a storekeeper in one of the plant's workshops, helped solve the problem with steel. During the next round of his pantries and nooks and crannies, I accidentally discovered several dozen unaccounted for steel bars. In the distant Soviet times, our plant, in addition to completely peaceful products, worked on military orders, and it was not customary to save on the defense industry. So they brought in materials with a margin. Of course, over time, most of the reserves were stolen, but there were places where no man had set foot for decades. It is in such pantries and nooks that you can still find bales with red banners, and a cannon barrel, and a periscope from a submarine, no one knows how and when they found themselves there. It was in such a forgotten warehouse that the required materials were stored. There were markings on them, experienced people suggested that a sword made of this steel would be unrealistically cool. The storekeeper, knowing the problem of Petrovich, offered to meet for negotiations. Negotiations were held at Petrovich's house, arguments of zero five and polishing arguments of one and a half were used, and as a result, the high negotiating parties came to an agreement. It was easy to remove the heritage of the Land of Soviets, because there was always enough holes in the fence of the plant.

But Petrovich was still not a gunsmith, and he only heard about the differences in swords, about balancing and sharpening methods. It seems that all the information is on the Internet, but the conservative Petrovich did not use a computer, calling it "overseas horseradish pig." It was on such an evening, when Petrovich was thinking about overcoming a new problem, that we met. I offered him my modest services, having agreed in advance that he would later teach me blacksmithing. From childhood I went crazy from any cold weapon, the brilliance of knives fascinated me, I saw swords only in the museum. And what man at least once in his life did not imagine himself on the battlefield, in armor and with a sparkling blade in his hands.

And I'm also a "knife" maniac. I honestly confess. I can't go wrong with a good knife. Seeing an interesting knife from a friend, I could beg for it for a year, but still received the cherished blade. Also, since childhood, I did not like knives made in mass production, they are somehow boring, soulless, a homemade knife is a completely different matter! Within the boundaries of our city there are two colonies, and where there are prisoners, there is production. There were many real masters among the inmates, sometimes they created real masterpieces. Yes, and at the dying plant there were enough smart craftsmen. Despite the abundance of piercing and cutting objects in my house, I could not stop. It’s not that I collected a collection, I almost didn’t have copies valuable for professional collectors, I just love knives and I can’t do anything about it. How many times it happened, I order a knife, the exact dimensions of the ladies, they bring the finished product, I look - a thing! A month passes, I played enough with a new toy, and once again another knife was sent to a wooden box in which I kept my collection. I can't say that they were bad blades. There were a lot of excellent examples among them, with a great blade shape, wonderful balance, amazing sharpening and a gripping handle, but I never had enough. Therefore, I decided to learn how to forge myself, in order to try to make everything I wanted myself.