Skargore

Skargore lifted the hammer high, bringing it down to thunder against the red hot metal on the anvil. Sparks sprayed across the dark room like molten confetti.

“When the hammer strikes, all shall witness its endeavors,” she called out.

Skargore's hand rose and fell, the hammer striking the steel and folding it. The sound rang out, echoing back from the far corners of the room.

“When the hammer falls, all shall hear its struggle.”

She set the hammer aside and thrust the glowing metal back into the furnace. She leaned on the bellows, filling the room with hot air.

“When the hammer rests, there is still work to be done.” She released the tongs and turned around, looking at the apprentices standing before her. “Some days, I am a priest; others, a warrior; but no matter what I am, I will always be a smith.” Skargore Shattergrip was a young dwarf when she first picked up a cross peen hammer from her father's anvil. It was so heavy she struggled to lift it. Her brothers teased her for the lack of strength, and she became angry, swinging the hammer wildly at one of them. Unfortunately for Skargore, it slipped from her hands and smashed into the haft of a great war hammer her father had been crafting for the chief. The metal haft hadn't yet been quenched, and it shattered when the hammer struck it. Her father was furious and told her she would never touch a smithing hammer again.

When she came of age, instead of joining her brothers in the local blacksmithing guild, she was sent to join the dwarven priests in the monastery at High Mountain Pass. Skargore hated abbey life, even though she showed promise and quickly learned how to read and write runes. Still, she dreamed of returning to the lowlands where she could take up the hammer as a smith.

At night, Skargore would sneak out of the monastery to a forge she had fashioned deep in a cave. There, she kept a book she had stolen from her father's collection, along with a hammer and an assortment of scrap metal. She spent many cold, mountain nights learning the craft of blacksmithing through trial and error. The priests often remarked about the haunting sounds that the wind carried to them late at night. Skargore just nodded, not saying a word.

One summer, a delegation of Riftwatchers arrived at the monastery, and Skargore pledged her service as a guide across the land of Argia. She told her fellow priests that their god had foreseen this and came to her in a vision, instructing her to help the Riftwatchers on their journey. She left with them the next day, never to return.

The Riftwatchers soon recognized her talent as a smith and promised to take her to the finest smiths in the realms if she joined them and used her knowledge against the Chaos Legion. The deal was struck, and it wasn't long before Skargore became one of the most renowned blacksmiths in history.