Episode 11: The Barbarian and the Screaming Axe

It was a blustery morning when the heavy, creaking door of The Enchanted Wrench swung open with a crash. In lumbered a hulking barbarian, muscles bulging under his fur-trimmed tunic, carrying an ancient, battered axe that seemed to vibrate with barely contained energy.

"I am Grumthor the Mighty!" he bellowed, voice echoing off the walls. "I demand an axe that screams as loudly as my battle cry!"

Felix, polishing a set of self-ironing tunics (which had a tendency to mutter fashion critiques), raised an eyebrow. "So you want an axe that yells? Not just when you do, but independently of you?"

Grumthor grunted, stroking his thick beard. "Yes. I want it to announce my victory before I even swing it. It must be as fearsome as I am!"

Zira fluttered over from her perch on a shelf, eyes twinkling mischievously. "You know, Grumthor, if your axe screams as loud as your personality, your enemies might just run laughing instead of running scared."

Grumthor glared. "Silence, imp! I do not have time for jokes!"

Felix set aside his tunic and beckoned the barbarian over to the workbench. "Alright then, one Screaming Axe coming right up. Let's see… I'll enchant it with a voice so booming it'll give even the bravest warriors second thoughts."

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An Hour Later…

Felix presented the axe with a flourish. It gleamed darkly, runes etched along its haft pulsing with energy. "Here you go. I've imbued it with a charm that makes it scream battle-cry proclamations at the push of a button—and sometimes when it thinks you're being too dramatic."

Grumthor took the axe, hefting it proudly. He tapped its pommel and waited. The axe shuddered, then roared in a voice that reverberated around the shop:

"GRUMTHOR THE MIGHTY, SLAYER OF PUNY, I WARN YOU: TODAY, YOUR ENEMIES SHALL TREMBLE... AND YOUR MOM WILL BE PROUD!"

Zira nearly fell off her shelf laughing, while Felix tried hard to maintain his professional composure. Grumthor's eyes widened in shock and then in delight. "It speaks! It speaks my name!"

Encouraged, Grumthor raised the axe high and attempted his fearsome battle cry. The axe interrupted him instantly:

"Seriously, Grumthor, you call that a battle cry? I've heard louder whispers in a wind tunnel!"

Grumthor bellowed, "Silence, you noisy piece of wood!" as he swung the axe in an exaggerated arc. The axe responded with a guttural snort:

"Maybe if you swung it without tripping over your own feet, I'd have something to cheer about."

The entire shop erupted in laughter as Grumthor tried to suppress his indignation. His face flushed bright red beneath his battle scars, yet a grudging smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Felix clapped his hands. "There you have it—an axe that not only intimidates your foes but also keeps you humble. I call it 'The Berserker Banter.'"

Grumthor gripped the axe tighter, grumbling yet visibly impressed. "I… I shall take it. May its taunts embolden my spirit and confound my enemies."

As he stormed out of the shop—axe in hand and still exchanging jabs with its enchanted voice—Zira piped up, "Hey, Grumthor, next time maybe ask for a helmet that compliments your hair!"

Felix shook his head with a wry smile. "Some enchantments come with bonus insults. Business as usual at The Enchanted Wrench."