There was a small grunt of approval that slipped through Ghanak’s gnarled maw. The Old Shaman knew that Rukal’s interest would’ve been piqued. Not because he had foreseen what’d come to pass, but rather knew the Sireling that had become the Warrior and Blacksmith that stood before him. There was...
As one weighted blow after another struck the heated ingot of blackened iron, gouts of crimson sparks burst outwards. Their transient journey brightened the Smithy and its surroundings for but a fleeting moment. What could be seen by the most casual of observers was that this forge was of...
This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.