On the Origins of Petalwilter

I decided today that the time has finally come to discuss Trond Trondsen’s sword, the illustrious Petalwilter. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned Petalwilter by name before on this site, so its mere mention must be pretty exciting for the 2 or 3 of you who somehow randomly found your way here and are wondering, ”Why the fuck haven’t I clicked my browser’s back button yet?”

Anyway, the thing about Troll-Breath is that he doesn’t mesh well with hippies and hippie flower-power, hence the sword’s name. This is because hippies are all about flowers, peace, pot, saving the environment, not killing animals for food, avoiding both bathing and deodorant, and so on and so on.

Now, this is not to say that Troll-Breath is necessarily against all those things, because really, who wants to live in a radioactive toxic dump? Not Troll-Breath, that’s for fucking sure, but just to put things in perspective, consider this: he used to hunt down whales and slaughter them for a living.

To further illustrate this difference between Troll-Breath and hippies, let’s take a closer look at the general idea of peace. It’s easy to see where one might get the impression that he is anti-peace, but that is definitely not the case, it’s just that his idea of achieving peace is through an absurdly excessive overuse of brutal medieval weaponry and his own two fists rather than through the organizing of a community gardening event to raise money to support the survivors of some catastrophe or another.

Which brings me to the other thing about Troll-Breath: he’s a doer, not a talker. He doesn’t just sit around whining about the crumbling state of the world, occasionally joining protests or marches that tend to fail in their intended purpose but that sometimes receive some media attention on slow news days (you know, those rare times when celebrities have been staying home instead of publicly embarrassing themselves or when it’s been more than a month or so since the previous large natural disaster, stuff like that). Troll-Breath doesn’t even dolly dally with trying to organize anything either. He’s not planning on going to law school or becoming a politician, so he doesn’t need a pointless activist credential like that.

That’s right, when Troll-Breath sees what needs to be done, he just rushes out and does it. Generally on impulse. And he’s effective, because he’s charismatic. He might be out there berserking in the midst of a thick crowd of frightened people on the street all by himself—i.e. getting shit done—when some guy wearing a Black Label Society t-shirt or Children of Bodom t-shirt or some other cool t-shirt sees him and starts following him around because of how awesome he is, and then before you know it Troll-Breath has this loyal following going around with him, making positive change in all the communities they visit (which usually happen to be unprotected coastal settlements easily accessed by boat) and all the hippies are still sitting in some basement somewhere smoking a bong and whining ineffectively about immigration policy and climate change.

Heraldry

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2 Responses to “On the Origins of Petalwilter”

  1. Thorkel says:

    Skål and all hail Petalwilter. A mighty blade for smiting enemies, “ne’er do wells” and the assorted human dross one comes across from time to time. This engaging story reminded me of a dear companion of mine’s sword called Arfarr. My old companion, Slengr, is a captain of some renown himself. Instead of whales he hunts tigers. That’s tiger prawns actually, but nevertheless a dangerous business, having lost one boat from beneath him already. However, I digress. The sword was named by it’s own victims when the smiting blow was falling,it was either; Arrfarr … k; Arrfarr ….. Christs sake; Arrfarr …. the love of God! or similar expletives to that effect. Wield that blade proudly Troll-Breath, the ring of steel on steel is a beauteous sound and really handy for cutting their heads off. Skål Earslings and good hunting.

    • Rowdy says:

      As I understand it, the tiger prawn is a fearsome enemy. I think it’s all in the mandibles. Mandibles dammit! What an evolutionary advantage. It’s only fair that Slengr equips himself with a sword capable of raining the bleak darkness of death upon his foes. And once the battlefield quietens and the killing is done for the day and Slengr is towering victorious over the corpses of his slain enemies, he can have a feast fit for the gods. Assuming the gods enjoy shellfish. A good end to a good day of slaughter.

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