In Gond We Trust

[Guest]

Kesa sat crossed-legged on the floor of her inn room. With deft movements that spoke of years of repetition, she unfurled a rough but clean cloth and laid it neatly on the floor in front of her. She drew a well-used smithing hammer from her bag and laid it horizontally on the cloth. Laying one hand on the haft and one on the head, she closed her eyes and began to pray.

“Hear me, Master of Smiths. I create for your glory.” She took a deep breath. “I still pursue the calling you have given me. Our adversity in the ocean has set us back, but we haven’t faltered.”

The sea had opened its maw and enveloped them whole. The waves crashed down like powerful jaws, smashing their ship into splinters. She could still feel the water rushing over her head, threatening to take her and her sister down with all the rest.

“We are starting over. We are gathering resources, soon we will be able to continue your work. We will bring many beautiful things to this land.” She shifted slightly, and her voice took on the tone of a hardened zealot. “Strengthen our arms that we may collect what we need and eliminate those who would prevent us from doing so.”

Kesa heard footsteps on the landing outside, someone walking past her door to their own room. She brightened. “We have made one friend so far. I take this to be a good omen. She helped us as we traversed some sort of forest, filled with gnolls and orcs. A perilous place, but there was profit to be made there.”

Not to mention much blood to be spilled, but that came with the calling. Creation oftimes require destruction.

“Forgelight guide me.” She released the hammer and carefully stowed it away. Next the cloth, neatly folded, then she stood and stretched. The sun was shining through the windows, warming her skin. It was a beautiful day, and Kesa knew she had much to do.

Time to start, she thought, and left the room.

[Guest]

Kesa didn’t fumble her prayer routine, but a sharp eye might have noticed the barest tremor in her hand. The hammer was set down a touch heavier, the deep breath with just a hint of a catch in the throat.

“Hear me, Master of Smiths. I create for your glory. We have travelled far for you, into bitterest winter and through many foes.”

It feels as if the mountain itself wants us gone. She knew that was mere fancy, but the further they had climbed, the truer it had felt. Her morningstar fell again and again on that mountain, breaking skulls and bones with shudders that ran right up her arm, numbing her shoulder. She felt no remorse- she was doing Gond’s work after all- but then a barbarian brought his club down on the head of her sister, who dropped to the snow without a sound. Kesa howled with inarticulate rage and anguish and the strength of Gond sprang to her limbs. She laid about her like a woman possessed, brutally slaying every last enemy in front of her, until at last she could reach her sister. She slung Seirdai over her shoulders and carried her down the mountain. Terror fuelled her onward and only once the temple sisters had brought Seirdai’s stirring form back from the brink did Kesa’s panic subside.

“I thank you for allowing me to rescue Seirdai from the barbarous ones. Please... please protect her.” Especially when I cannot. She cleared her throat.

“The world out here is dangerous. Your training has prepared us well, but we still have much to learn. But we have made friends. We hope to begin making valuable offerings to you soon.” She passed a hand lightly over the ingots she had smelted. “All for your glory.” The smelting had calmed her more than anything else.

“Forgelight guide me.” Kesa finished the ritual and rose. Her arms and back ached, but with the good pain that spoke of hard work done with fervor. She suspected the coming days would bring her much of the same. She collected her ingots, stretching her muscles slightly as she did so, and set off for the forge once more.