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Player's Guide Places People History Beliefs


Nothing Prepares You
I have never been this tired and sore. Six hours straight, with not a moment away from the hammer, tongs, and bellows. I am disgusting, covered in sweat, and I hurt in places I never before knew existed. I hurt so much I can't even really remember how we got here, but Primus the Runemaker would only provide with a means of passage to our next destination, Lochlainn, if we each answered a question of him. More, however, was required of me. Six days of this grueling forge work Primus wants. Should I live through it, I'll consider myself blessed if I can even raise my sword again.

The irony of circumstance is worth noting, though. For the second time, I will be a bizarre surrogate father; this time, it will be not to just one boorish girl, but an entirely new species, a new race of sentient beings. And I will have helped create them, in my own small way.

The partial progenitor of a new race. How very odd to think of myself that way. The philosophical implications will have to wait, however. I must sleep; the hammer, tongs, and bellows await me....

Associated Regions: Inverted Tower
From the journal of Islan Diemyn

Contributor: Chris Schuettpelz