Gilshem's Letters to The Elders of The Forge of Hammer's Hold

[gilshem ironstone]

*Gilshem sits at a tavern on some byway puffing a pipe, when someone spots the strange tatoos that cover his body and ask what they mean*

What do they mean?  Ah! That be a tale that stretches back to the creation o'this world!  But you don't want to hear that.  What you want to know is who gave 'em to me and why!  Well have you ever heard of Trielta Mountains?  Ye have! Well deep within the bowels of dem is where I be from.  Most people have never heard of my home and even less would care to see it.  Its name is simple, The Forge of Hammer's Hold.  A simple name as befits our people but there I have seen unrivalled works of metal-working.  You see, me home is the home of a devout group of Dorand's clergy and their families.  In all we may number 300, but I have seen a group of five priests build a home out of the rock in a day.  Such is our obsession with all those things that Dorand reveres and such is our ability that we scoff at all those who deem themselves to be craftsman.  Yer a blacksmith ye say?  Well good for you!  Perhaps I'll teach you a thing or two about a thing or two someday, right now ye may know more about metal that I do, but not for long laddy.

I was born to parents, aye, who wasn't?  But loving is not the word for my upbringing.  From the time I was born, I was made to sleep with a smith's hammer, eat with a shovel, and clean plates with a chisel.  This may sound like a tale but it be as true as mithril is hard.  Me father did not even give me a name until I left for me Hammer-Quest.

Me father!  Dougan Ironstone!  Pride of the clan, and as sure as my beard, the best ... smith that ever walked this earth.  He be the only one of us that ever returned from a Hammer-Quest with mithril.  Do you believe that?  Never would tell where it came from, and always got a queer look in his eyes when it was mentioned.  Could be on account that a dwarfling somehow got their paws on his precious ingots and thought to take the glory for himself.  Did he succeed, you ask?  Lets just say that that dwarfling had a closed casket, and those ingots became nothing more than a painful memory for Dougan.

Alright, the Hammer-Quest does need explaining.  With me people there be a great legend of The Hammer.  This hammer is the hammer to end all hammers if you take my meaning.  The Ironstone it be called, and all of me people bear its name.  There be so many legends about it, that no one really knows what to think about it anymore, 'cept that every one of our men at about my age is given a vision by the Master himself.  Who's the Master?  Dorand ya fool!  Master of Crafts!  The Priceless Gem! Have you not been listening to all I said? Anyway, in this vision Dorand shows us what this hammer looks like.  He shows it long enough to get our mouths waterin' but not long enough to truly appreciate its craftsmanship.  Then 'e says, "Go forth and birth the Ironstone! Make your people whole!"  The elders, of which me father is one, all seem to know when the vision happens and a solemn rite is held.  It is then that I am given me name and told to go forth and not return until I have made the hammer, or Dorand sends another vision.  See Dorand be merciful, for this Hammer be nigh impossible to make and if every one of us were to try our lives to make it, then, well... then we would all be done, if you take my meaning.  So that's why I'm here, I am on my Hammer-Quest.

What?  Oh! The tatoos! *laughs a huge belly laugh* Right, that is what ye wanted to know in the first place.  Well.  These be the marks I receive as I learn the lessons of Dorand.  *Rolls up his sleeve*  These ones around me fair-sized arm-muscles were given me the first time I learned to spot a vein of iron; a revered source of creativity.  They are as long as the vein I found.  Now I don't mind sayin' it was bloody huge, which is why it wraps all the way around both arms.  We made nigh on 3,000 war-hammers with that vein and me father almost smiled at me on that day.  *Gets misty eyed but then quickly covers it up*  *Yells at the barkeep*  Would you open the ... flue!  If I wanted to be choked in smoke, I would be at home!  Right, where were we?  These ones on my wrists are for the first-time I fought a defiler.  You know, defilers!  Orcs, trolls, umber hulks, all those things that try and end our devotions to the Master.  See every one of us must learn to use a hammer for all its purposes, smithing being the highest.  I been training with the war-hammer for 'bout twenty years.  It was a priceless day!  A whole group of orcs, maybe 2,000 decided that they had enough of us and tried to storm our temple.  Bah!  They didn't have a clue what they got themselves in to.  We heard them coming from ten miles away, what with all the echoes and such, and when they came we were lined up like a ridge o' iron and they lasted all of ten minutes.  Dead to an orc.  When their blood stopped flowin', I fell to the ground, me lung punctured by a wicked spear.  I remember me kin's cheers as they found me, just before I passed out.  Those orcs got theirs though.  We let a couple live to lead us to their home and when we found found it, we returned with a force and wiped them all out.  See if we don't protect our own, at any cost, the Ironstone might never be made.  I almost died that day, ain't that great?  See it is important to us to know what it is to sacrifice for our creations.  Then we know how much of our spirit must go in to everything we make.  From a suit of plate to a nail.  So these tatoos remind me that if it is needed I must cut me 'ands off for my works.

*Gilshem pulls down his pants and shows his thighs*  These tatoos were given me after I finished the vigilance.  Ye heard of the legendary endurance of dwarves?  Well the vigilance is a test we are given to see how much we have.  The test is simple, stand in front of a bleedin' 'ot forge with no food or water, for as long as bleedin' possible.  How long did I stand for?  What do ye think?  A day?  Thats an insult!  A baby could do that while mining!  A day.  I stood there for three weeks!  What?  Ye think I'm lying!  *Grabs the man by the collar and yanks him out of his chair*  Listen laddy, I have never lied, will never lie, could not lie, got me?  I was good, but me friend Brack, stood there for two months!  He died shortly afterwards, but that ain't the point!  If you ever call me a liar again, I'll crush your head like a mushroom. *leans back, smiles*  A round for me friend here!

Then there is me pride and joy! *opens his shirt to reveal a very detailed image of a hammer, it feels as if it could be lifted off his chest*  This was given me when my naming ceremony took place.  This bugger took a long time.  How long?  Fourteen years!  *the man's jaw drops and Gilshem laughs uproariously*  Are ye crazy?  We're craftsman, it only took a year!  Thats not a long time for this.  The ink is actually metals and gems. *gestures to different lines* iron, gold, cobalt, titanium, alexandrite, topaz, diamond, they're all there... except this one line that is missing.  That is for mithril, and that is for the maker of the ironstone to do himself.  Anyway, I doubt ye've ever had liquid metal, or worse gems injected under your skin, but they got about a line done before I passed out.  And I have to be awake for every line, so as to appreciate the beauty and pain of exquisite creation.  Why pain?  Because ye may never see anything so great in your life again!  We always strive to better our works, to be a pale reflection of Dorand, but we are mortal and do not always succeed.

So that's the story of my tatoos. *the man points to a simple rune on Gilshem's neck and inquires*  Oh that.  *blushes*  That says, "I love me Mom". *The man snickers and Gilshem reaches for his hammer, the man stops*  Me Mom is one of the greatest woman ye could ever meet.  First, she puts up with me and my father, two of the most irritable buggers ye could meet.  And second, her mushroom pie is about as good kissing a lass.  *The man cannot contain himself and breaks in to uncontrolled laughter, Gilshem pauses and then matches his laugh*  Yer alright for a "blacksmith".  Barkeep!  Another round!

So, like I said thats that.  What?  Can I heal your sick wife?  Laddie, I would love nothing more, but see I am not a priest yet.  Dorand will not favor me until I make something of worth.  Doesn't have to be a fire-breathing sword or the like.  Maybe a pipe or a dagger, but right nice ones, like you never seen before.  Then he'll come to me and tell me that I am part of the Brotherhood of the Ironstone. *A tear rolls down his cheek and he does nothing to hide it*

So thats my tale, I am here on my Hammer-Quest, with a bunch of tatoos and a right-bad temper for people who dis-respect me or anything worthwhile.  I hope to find a place to ply a craft, someplace with lots o' resources near.  Know where I can go?  Well think about it and let me know.  Enough 'bout me, how 'bout yerself?  *Gilshem spends the rest of the night talking and getting very drunk with the "blacksmith" and passes out in the ditch outside*

[gilshem ironstone]

To the Honourable Elders of the Workshop

I have been in Hlint for a couple of years now and it is time for a report on my comings and goings.  I travelled from the Workshop acroos Dregar and found passage in Lorindar to Karthy.  From Karthy I travelled across Alindor to Point Harbor, and then by ship again to Port Hampshire.  Boats are not as bad as I thought but they do give the impression of being dis-connected from the earth.  From there I travelled on foot to a small town known as Hlint.  A fine town.  There are copper, tin and iron mines within a couple of days travel.  They are all populated by defilers, but that problem is solved by one of the uses of the hammer.  Praise Dorand!  I quickly set up shop and set about our divine work.  Before long I made a jewel of a dagger and received the visions from Dorand.  I am proud to say that I am a member of the Brotherhood!  Praise Dorand!  I was also pleased to find many other dwarves in Hlint with whom I could share my goals and time.  I have said nothing of my quest yet, but in time I may trust them with that sacred knowledge.  They are mostly Voraxians, but pious and righteous nonetheless.  Recently I have been asked to help our kin in the arming of a group of beards that was recently liberated from the clutch of foul defilers.  A worthy cause and one that allows me to ply my arts to the benefit of my quest.

I have not discovered more of the Ironstone and will report again soon.

- Gilshem Ironstone, Acolyte of the Hammer

[gilshem ironstone]

You would be amazed at the strength of our kin here.  We are many and work strongly together.  I just went on an ore expedition with a cousin named Thorgist.  We marched over kobolds and goblins alike as a wave of iron.  A group of spiders tried to break us, and nearly did but we persevered and crushed them.

I still have discovered nothing more of the ironstone except this.  Part of it lies within me.  The strength of the hammer is in my connection with it.

My search continues, fiercer than ever.

Acolyte of the Hammer, Gilshem Ironstone.

[gilshem ironstone]

Elders today was a day to make the elders proud of a young acolyte.  In one day, I gathered enough resources and made thirteen bundles of bolts, fourteen handles for axes or hammers, molds for four large weapons, a short of chain, a small shield, holy water, a batch of pilsner, polished several gems, and made a waraxe and a battleaxe for our kin in Ulgrid's.  My skill may not be great yet, but Dorand be praised, my will is strong.  May my perseverance lend virtue to my quest and strength to my kin.

-Acolyte of the Hammer, Gilshem Ironstone

[gilshem ironstone]

Today I marched with beards in greater strength than I have seen since I left home.  Some truly mighty kin that you shall hear about soon.  Varka Cleaveson, warlord of the Bloody Gate, Haggranar Craggenhilt, Priest of Vorax, Fenrir Thornaxe, Defender of Vorax, are all warriors of exceptional quality and stout companions.  Fenrir is also a master smith and I saw him in short hours smith ten suits of Platinum Full-Plate.  It was moving.  I made blessings and said prayers during tha smithing as is appropriate.  I learn from the Voraxians I surround myself quite a bit.  They are very pious and open to talking faith with me, even though I am not one of them.  My skill with forge and saw, gem and clay are improving daily.  It will only be a matter of time until the Ironstone will reveal its first shadows to me.  With Dorand's light I shall not miss a hammer-stroke!  Success!

-Acolyte of the Hammer, Gilshem Ironstone

[gilshem ironstone]

I marched againwith kin to collect the resources to make us mighty!  I collected topaz and made my first enchantment, abd I also made my first bronze warhammer.  My progress has been steady, if not mercurial.

We went to the platinum mines again with Varka, Fenrir, Kurgaz, Grohin, Wanark and Dwar, and won our way to the deepest part of the mines but we found no thick veins.  No matter, another suit of plate was made for the valiant dwarves of Bloody Gate.

I then attended to my own work and learned a great deal of tinkering, alchemy, weapon-smithing and enchanting.  I spoke with Grohin, and he gave me several tips on how to be most efficient in my work.  I feel very satisfied and with the progress I am making that when Dorand calls me to forge the Ironstone, I shall not miss my mark.

-Acolyte of the Hammer, Gilshem Ironstone.

[gilshem ironstone]

I beleive I have received a sign from Dorand regarding my hammer-quest.  I attended a meeting about the arming and rebuilding of Bloody Gate, and at that meeting was a grizzled and powerful dwarf by the name of Kobal Bluntaxe.  You may have heard of him as his clan lives beneath Mount Norand, very near to our own.  He was also instrumental in destroying on e of Bloodstone's bloodpools.  He was taking us to a location to store any contributions to the Bloody Gate cause and on the way he un-sheathed a most miraculous hammer.  Made of mithril!  This beard knows where to find Mithril!  In the moment I saw the hammer I had an image burned in to my soul of the Ironstone.  I am re-doubling my efforts at researching the Ironstone, but I understand now that it will take me many years to achieve that goal.  What is a decade compared to the centuries we have toiled?

I hope to work very closely with Grohin Silveraxe in the future.  He is a skilled enchanter and I hope that we will provide fell axes for the dwarves of Bloody Gate.  Varka is proving to be a capable leader as well and I will follow him to the bitter end in his cause.  I will write when I have more news.

[gilshem ironstone]

I plan to start sending out messengers looking for veteran members of the priesthood that might be able to help me commune with Dorand and receive insight in to my hammer-quest.  Knowing the location of raw materials is one thing, but knowing the proper recipes and enchantments will be the hard part I think.  Menwhile my crafting comes along well.  I tried to harvest soem pecans today, but was ambushed by a group of lizardmen and had to pay the soul mother.  I took the time to fast, meditate and reflect on new paths to take with my crafting.  I know that soon I will be working with stronger metals and rarer gems, finer cloths and more exotic enchantments.  I will fall upon Dorand's anvil with a many splendoured strike.

-Gilshem Ironstone, Acolyte of the Hammer

[gilshem ironstone]

*thinks to himself as he sits and watches the statue of Broegar*

Well this is a fine spot I've landed myself in!  I am not sure if I am honoured or terrified.  And all in my first visit to the Drift Lands!  How I am supposed to protect myself and those nomads living in that place from such a spirit.  I have no experience with these kinds of things, I suppose knowing its true name will help but shouldn't this be for the shining hand or someone of that sort?  Agh!  And does this make me in to some kind of Nature loving elf?  And worst of all, Kard asked me to give up my career so that I can raise a family!  A family!  I am on my hammer-quest!  To break from it is next to sacrilege!  I may be damned for all of eternity!  For who?  Kard!  A man I barely know... But then there was that feeling.  That feeling that as he spoke to all of our group that he is a man of honour, integrity, and that what he does he does for a great reason... Ah!  I don't know!  I don't know! I don't know!  What I do know is that this bond will rend my soul if I forsake it.  Tear my bloody heart right out of my chest and feed it back to the giants... I don't know... A family would not be so bad.  I know I will still work Dorand's work.  I know that when I find a wife, my hammer-quest will continue... But what do I say in my letters to the Forge?   What do I say to all my kin when I have to leave Bloody Gate for a bleedin' family dinner?  Agh!  Too much, too fast.  But then I suppose Dorand will provide.  And I suppose that it does no good to have this spirit running around like it will...  I the kinship I feel with Kard makes me feel as if I was back at the Forge with my cousins and Grashin and Da.. Like a warm blanket... Like mushroom pies.  Well, there is nothing for it now but to see it through... I suppose that the Drift Lands has as much a right to peace as Bloody Gate... But there are no beards involved except me!  Hopefully Grohin sticks by me... Stout beard... Well there is nothing for it... Spirit I will purify you in the Forge of Creation and not shed a tear for it...  I will be Da like me Da before me, and have me a son... Its just so soon... I need a drink... Best be heading back to Hlint...

*looks at himself in the water*  Geez!  If I am going to get me a wife, I'll need to clean-up a bit... I hate baths...

*with that he gets up and walks out the eastern gate*

[gilshem ironstone]

*sitting on a bunk-bed in Grohin's hostel, Gilshem tries to sleep but cannot as these thoughts pass through his head*

Geez!  What a mess!  I barely even felt ready to meet the spirit in the desert... But there it was... I felt almost like a father must... It seemed so helpless... I hope I helped it... It happened so fast... It seemed to be the right thing to do.. invoking its true name and all...  But what was Kenson doing there?  Why did he invoke its true name!  He had no right, its my charge... And what is the path of the claw?  Awww... I do not where this is all going but I do know that Kenson has to give me some answers... If I can even find hin again... What a mess!  He compels the spirit and I can do nothing!  Geez!  Well maybe Kard'll have an idea... Gonna need to talk to him... Well I'll let that rest for now... At least until I can get some answers...

Good for Grohin, stout lad... He really showed some honour fightin' that mountain of a giant... He's a true friend for sure, standing by me in my time of need.. I like that Sallaron lad too... I hope all those folks can keep the secret... Clarissa, Delila, Ferrit, bonnie lass, who else?  That bloody drow, she worries me, Boon Loom, don't like him neither, Lex'or or what ever his nmae is, Valaria, Avar, Treana, uppity one, she better know there will be consequences to her actions... Geez!  Well I still have to find a wife too... I think that will take some time at least.  That Shar'har girl is nice, but half-elf... But she has that nice hair... And eyes...... And she follows Dorand....

*And so he passes in to sleep*

[gilshem ironstone]

Honoured elders I know it has been long since my last letter, but know that my work in Dorand's name has been unceasing.  In the smelting of metals my skill is greatest, having smelted platinum and iron being all but a trivial matter for me.  My skill in smithing grows daily and I am comfortable in making hard tempered blades and hammers as well as full plate armors.  I can now make enchanted bags of cougar and tan lion leathers reasonably well, making first circle enchantments is well within my grasp and soon I will move on to second circle.  Although I have not yet accomplished the feat, making enchanted rings will also be a task I will complete in the near future.  I can make lesser restoratives easily and hasting potions are also in my power.  Lastly I can make crossbows of oak.  So all goes well in my worship and tribute and I will within the month make a journey to Lyn to donate many of my finest works.

My kinsman have been distant of late, in particular Wanark, but we are moving on Bloody Gate soon to rebuild its great walls and I plan to personally rebuild the temple to Vorax there.  I have met an elven woman who calls herself a daughter of Dorand and although she is elven I cannot deny her passion and inspiration for our lord.  I will endeavor to teach Shar'ar in the proper and disciplined worship of Dorand.

I would also caution against too many mining trips for Silver in the Drift Lands as those deserts may be badly out of balance and with the world.

I will write again soon, give my love to my mother and father.

-Gilshem Ironstone, Hammer of Dorand

[gilshem ironstone]

*Gilshem walks in to the Wild Surge and sits down at one of the tables.  He pulls out his skinning knife and begins whetting it.  When he is satisfied with the edge, he pulls out a sheaf of parchment, an inkwell and a quill from his pack.  He thinks for a moment, and a smile creeps across his face.  He dips the quill in the ink and begins writing*

Well this is my first attempt at keeping a journal, so we will see how it goes.  I was very happy with how things went in Bloody Gate.  Our work was quick, sturdy, thorough and beautiful.  The gates that Kobal and I built are sturdy and will last against most physical force I deem.  The foundations are sound and everything is now in good repair.  The work is not done though there are houses to built, ox-shoes to smith, food-stores to be built up.  And so I stay.  This endeavor has captured my heart and I will see this city rise to a place of honour and glory, not only amongst kin, but indeed all people of this world.  

But this labor was not the greatest reward that Bloody Gate gave me.  That would be Nola.  Fair and trusty, tough and independent, as fair as a fresh vein of unwrought adamantium.  I met her first in Hlint when she brought news of the new priest to be the head of Vorax's shrine there, and my heart was stilled.  But as I saw her going amongst the hundreds of beards that laboured and sweated, passing ales, foods and encouragement, I fell in love.  I feel soft and foolish writing these words, but the truth cannot be ignored.  And to think that a kin-lass of her humility is of royal-blood!  It shows the strength and honour of Rory's clan that she is who she is.  And so I also stay in the Gate to woo her, who knows maybe to wed her.   After a long days work, feeling refreshed I often walk with her thorugh the town.  We talk long in to the nights of many things, work, kin, the makings of the earth.  It always is the loneliest time of day when I take her to the steps of her home and bid her goodnight.  I have built myself a modest shack nearby so that I can be near her, it is not much, but it is all I need.  And I make her gifts, as that is the best way that I know to show my appreciation for her.  I made her a necklace of bronze, with a topaz set in it.  A table of oak that has her clan emblem emblazoned on it, an axe of iron, wrought with enchantments of fire to symbolize her blazing heart, and a suit of mail with a hammer crossing an axe to symbolize her commitment to the dwarven gods, so that I know she will be safe.  She tells me I am daft giving her these things.  Always practical, she tells me that there are better uses for such resources, but she always keeps them, and tells me they are beautiful.  This always makes me blush, and she teases me, calling me a pansy elf.  Then we laugh and she tries to kiss me.  But I must refuse.  She is the niece of a king!  I am a humble Hammer of Dorand, it is not proper or honourable for me to do so until Rory himself gives his blessing.  She tells me he will never know, but on this point I am always clear, as difficult as it is, and she respects my choice saying that my honour will show, Rory will come to accept me.

I am not always sure of this though.  He has not granted me audience since the day we were with Varka and if I see him in the street, he does not even acknowledge me.  So I work harder, building houses in a day, cobbling streets, smithing armors, doing whatever needs to be done.  Never asking for thanks or reward for there is only reward I want, Rory's blessing.

*He pauses and re-reads what is before him and thinks for a minute or two.  He looks down and dips his quill again, but before he puts it to paper he stops, gives a short grunt and instead puts the quill away and seal the ink with sand.  He puts the parchment in his folder and returns it to his pack.  He then takes out a bag of gold and passes it to Yastin saying*

"Sorry 'bout da tough times 'ere.  Take dis an' if its all da same ta ye, I'll drink me own brew.  Save yers fer anoder customer."

*He uncorks an amber ale and drinks it slowly, letting out a contented sigh*

[gilshem ironstone]

Gilshem comes through the gates to a friendly greeting from the guardsman.  Returning the greeting, Gilshem notes an odd look in the guards eye, "Wat be da madder lad?

The guard shuffles his feet for a moment, "Lad, ye should go to see Nola.  I tink she's in a bit o' a state."  

The guard averts his eyes and Gilshem gets a sudden fearful look in his eye, before regaining his composure.  He nods and gruffly replies, "Tanks lad."  As he walks away he mutters to himself, "Wat 'ave I done now..."

He walks through the city, taking note of the repairs that still need attending to.  Nodding to those dwarves he is familiar with, occasionally offering in turns compliments, criticism, encouragement and rebukes as sees their labours.  He arrives at his makeshift home that he has constructed to see Nola kneeling before the door, her shoulders shuddering slightly.  A look of concern passes over him and he walks up unnoticed and puts his hand on her shoulder,  "Nola?" He says hesitantly, not certain of what to make of this sight.  "Everytin' a'right?  Did sometin' 'appen?"

She starts as if receiving a shock and turns her face around.  Her expression is one of wonder and anguish wrapped up in to a harrowed look.  She looks at him speechless for a moment and Gilshem is paralyzed by the depth of her eyes.  "Wats wrong lassie?  'oo died?" He asks, fearing that some great tragedy befell the place he comes to call home more and more.

In a flash she is on her feet and begins to furiously slap Gilshem who wraps his arms over his head in a panicked defense.  Her fury runs it course and she collapses on to him moaning, "Where have you been?  Where?"  The moans eventually recede in to the same shudder that Gilshem first witnessed, now revealing itself as silent weeping.

His confusion and panic turn in to a look of profound guilt and sorrow, "Wat d'ye mean lassie?  I told ye I 'ad some business abroad?  Dere was nay ta worry abou''."  His feeble protest wrings hollow in his own ears as he realized he had been gone months instead of weeks as he had said he would be.

Nola looks up at him with tear-stained eyes, her lower-lip trembling in a startling display of vulnerability, "I was... sure... you weren't..." At this Gilshem pulls her close in to an enveloping embrace.

"'ey... I'm fine now... I'm fine.  Sorry.  Sh.. sh.. Its fine.  I be a bleedon' fool Nola.  Ye know 'ow it is when I git workin'.  I be sorry Nola.  It'll ne'er 'appen again."  Gilshem sighs deeply and continues to hold her as she grips his hauberk tightly.

Nola sniffles and looks up in to his eyes.  She has the look of someone who has not slept in weeks, but there is still a great compassion in her eyes. "I know Gil, its part o' ye.  But if we 're ta be tageder ye kin nay treat me dat way.  I love ye too much ta nay know where ye are an' why."

At her words Gilshem's breath catches and he looks down at Nola as if seeing the sun rise for the first time.

"An' also ye bleedin'-"  Gilshem puts his finger to her lips.

"Ye love me?"

"Wat?"

"Truely? Ye love me?"

"O'course!  Are ye daft?  Ye were diggin' sand weren't ye?  Damned 'eat-sickness!"

"Da 'eat do nay 'ffect me!  Well... Bah!  Dat does nay madder!  Ye've gone an' made me skin redder dan me beard, but ye know wat?  Fer once I do nay give a ¤¤¤¤!"  Laughing he scoops Nola up in to his arms and kisses her firmly on the lips.

"Ya mean ye did nay know dat? Gil, ye 'ave a good mine for metal an' stone but when it comes ta kin-lass, yer as daft as a gnome!"  Her laughter in that moment sang out as the song of hammer on anvil, only to be broken by the clatter of pots hitting the ground.  As one Nola and Gilshem looked to the source of the sound and as one their faces drop.  Quietly, Gilshem lays Nola on to her feet and gets down to one knee.

"King Rory.  Ta wat do I owe dis pleasure?" He utters, shame clear on his face.

Looking down sternly at Gilshem King Rory did not speak for a long, inscrutable moment.  He them turned his gaze and in a voice as cold as the icy lakes of the Underdark said, "Nola, I would speak with you alone."

Quietly Nola walks away from Gilshem and long after the sounds of their feet on the cobblestone had died in to the howl of wind coming off the lonely heights of the Iriand mountains Gilshem stayed there, contemplating a promise he had made ro pursue Nola honourably and whether or not he had lsot any chance of pursuit at all.

[gilshem ironstone]

I have finally gained my apprenticeship at the Citadel of the Hammer.  It is to a Hauberk named Hagar, who is a bloody-minded kinsman, not afraid to do what is necessary to secure the safety of kin and creed who craft in Dorand's name.  

It is refreshing to work with him, as he concentrates on my physical training as much as my mental.  My martial as much as vocational, he told me I moved like a human after getting in to Sledge Draft, and had me work on my footwork.  As I saw him move  about on the spot, it seemed like a model of efficiency and awareness, each step leading in a chain to positions of strength and postures of defense.  I practiced all my first week, and at the end of it felt cramps in my legs and nothing more.

They matched the ache in my arms and back, as the rest of my time was spent hammering and folding breastplates of bronze.  I was told that I should aim for no less than 100 folds in my plates.  A lofty goal to be sure, but then that is my purpose here.

I will write again as I my practice deepens.

Gilshem Ironstone, Apprentice of Dorand.

[gilshem ironstone]

The interminable hammer swings most. I have taken this to heart. The work of a decade be no less than the work of a year, though they produce the same. I find the right point to hammer, the fine gem to cut, the clean ore to smelt, nothing less. So these past years at the Citadel can nay be measured in product, but in wisdom gained. Hagar has been pleased, but has not mentored much. I continue to work on mobility and precision when defending expeditions. Nay better life could he had. Already I write too much.

In Dorand's name,

Gilshem of the Ironstone Clan
Apprentice of the Hammer