PREVIEW
... e eternal song of hammers on anvils, Thane Borin Ironbeard stood before the great forge of his ancestors. The chamber was vast, carved from living stone over the course of three thousand years, its ceiling lost in shadows fifty feet above. Rivers of molten metal flowed through channels cut into the floor, their light painting everything in shades of orange and gold.
The Thane was an imposing figure even by dwarven standards. Broad as an oak barrel, his shoulders bore the weight of armor ...
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