"No, no, no, no, NO!" The gruff voice of a scarred old man, that still possessed the vigour and strength of a man thirty years his junior, wrung through the smithy. "Is this supposed to be a sword or a metal bar? Did you even notice how unbalanced this damned, useless thing is? Or do you want me to kill you myself, before the military inspector has a chance to do so tomorrow?!"
"I-I'm sorry master..." The young man standing in front of him tried to ask for his forgiveness, but the old man was beyond the reach of words.
"Sorry? You're sorry?! You bastard! What does 'sorry' do me when I have such a useless apprentice like you?" The boy didn't reply to his master's harsh words, but just lowered his head, allowing the old man to vent his rage and rebuke him as he wished.
