Kalhala comes downstairs his stomach rumbling loudly.  Heading over to the bar, and asking whoever is working, "Mornin!  I'll have a plate of everything you're servin this mornin!  I am a hungry minotaur, so don't wait for it all to be finished, just bring out what ya got!" and with that, he gives a nod and heads over to an empty table, looking forward to joining the crew he met last night.

Berk ventures to the bar to order a meager meal. He sees Kalhala and sits with him, making small talk, asking about his life back home and why he's here to fight orcs.

Lehmani starts her day with a morning prayer, prepares her spells, then grants the Blessing of the Forge onto her own mace (Sorry Gyrmar). 

She descends the stairs to find Berk and Kalhala conversing over their morning meal. She joins them and explains her intention to speak to the local blacksmith, Gaelren before they venture off to face the orcs. She's hoping he'll be able to reveal some information about Durgeddin's stronghold. They're welcome to accompany her if they'd like. She'll wait for Grymar to extend the invitation to him as well... unless the dwarf is long-delayed sleeping off the previous night's "festivities".

Zubien enters from completing his forms, asks for a simple meal, and join the others at the table. He wishes all a good morning and takes a sit with them at the table. "So what is our destination today?"

Kalhala smiles at Berk, "Back home?  Why I am part of the city watch, at the wall is where I stand.  Well, until opportunities such as this pop up!  Not right that orcs are raiding the village, someone has to stop it, why not us?"

"I'd love to accompany you, Lehmani.  Blacksmiths are always so good at their work and I love seeing all the creations they can make with just their hands!  Want some breakfast?  I ordered quite a bit" he grins a little sheepishly, but if she doesn't, he'll gobble it all down regardless.

The minotaur greets Zubien, then says, "I don't believe we met last night, my name is Kalhala."

Grymar comes down the stairs slowly, one…at… a… time.  He holds his head and shakes it.  “Feels like it is full of beeezz.  But you fellers wouldn’t do that to me, would ya?  (Speaking to his pouch) Naw, I knowed it.  It’s my own damn fault, yessirreee!  Arrrgghhh!”  He stops at the last stair and scratches an itch on his flank and then his nether regions, then proceeds down to the table.  “Whassat?  Breakfast… whatllre be?  I’ll have some o that!  Eggies, tha looks good.  An no hair of the dog please!  Hah!!”  

There is quiet munching, an occasional groan, he turns to the others and says “Mornin is the time for coffee and contemplation, ye see.  So, now.  Where we headed?  Oh yeah?  Orcs?  Blacksmith - ooh, yeah, I’m good with tha.  Count me in!  Just give me a moment, you want any more of tha?”  Grymar points to a half eaten biscuit with gravy on Lehmani’s plate with a questioning look.

Despite the fact that Grymar pointed to the biscuit at the very moment Lehmani was taking a bite, she slides the plate over to him. "Enjoy, friend. You need it more than I."

She briefs Zubien on the plan, then turns her attention to Kalhala, the minotaur, with a smile. "We appreciate your company, Kalhala. I'm certain those orcs will throw down their weapons in fear the moment you approach. How long have you been defending the walls?"

Quote from kqstark >>

Kalhala smiles at Berk, "Back home?  Why I am part of the city watch, at the wall is where I stand.  Well, until opportunities such as this pop up!  Not right that orcs are raiding the village, someone has to stop it, why not us?"

"I'd love to accompany you, Lehmani.  Blacksmiths are always so good at their work and I love seeing all the creations they can make with just their hands!  Want some breakfast?  I ordered quite a bit" he grins a little sheepishly, but if she doesn't, he'll gobble it all down regardless.

The minotaur greets Zubien, then says, "I don't believe we met last night, my name is Kalhala."

 Zubien gives a slight bow and reaches to shake his hand. "I am Zubien, of the Silver Crescent Order, it is an honor to meet you." 

Quote from MAOShea >>

Despite the fact that Grymar pointed to the biscuit at the very moment Lehmani was taking a bite, she slides the plate over to him. "Enjoy, friend. You need it more than I."

She briefs Zubien on the plan, then turns her attention to Kalhala, the minotaur, with a smile. "We appreciate your company, Kalhala. I'm certain those orcs will throw down their weapons in fear the moment you approach. How long have you been defending the walls?"

 Zubien nods, "I am ready to travel when our group is. It's time to see more of this world, and what I can learn. The world is a great classroom to test your mettle to and learn from it. I am ready for some more challenges."

All - After finishing your meals you head out into the cool, crisp, morning air. The smithy that Lehmani seeks is a few blocks from the Griffon's Nest, giving you time to finish your conversations prior to arriving. The smithy is a sturdy, single-story building made of stone and heavy timber beams. The building's architecture is practical, with a steeply pitched roof designed to channel smoke and fumes from the forge. It stands out as one of the more solidly built structures in the town.  A partially open front area of the smithy reveals the heart of the operation. A massive forge bellows heat and flames, with an anvil nearby. The anvil is a substantial piece of equipment with a worn, well-used surface that has seen countless strikes of the hammer.  Various tools and equipment are neatly arranged around the workspace, including tongs, hammers, chisels, and a water trough for cooling metal. Weapons, armor, and other metal goods in various stages of completion are hung on racks and displayed. The most prominent sound is the rhythmic and metallic clanging of the blacksmith's hammer against a piece of red-hot metal on the anvil. The sound reverberates throughout the immediate area, creating a distinctive, almost musical rhythm of creation. The forge itself roars with the blazing fire within. The constant whoosh of air from the bellows keeps the flames at their hottest. It's a sound that's both fierce and comforting, like the heartbeat of the smithy.

You find a middle-aged dwarven man standing next to the anvil inspecting a rough piece of metal that he was bludgeoning with a hammer moments before. The dwarf holds the white hot piece of metal rather close to his face, illuminating it with a warm glow in the dawn twilight. His eyes dart from one infinitesimal detail to another, but his movements are slow and precise. He mutters to himself as he does this, what sounds like ingredients and their quantities. He sets the rough blade down and picks up a nearby hammer and begins smacking it again. If he's noticed you, he hasn't given any indication.

The young minotaur scratches his head as they walk, "How long have I been defending the walls?  Well it sure feels like I've been doing it since I could walk!"  Enjoying the company of his new found friends, "How long have you all been together?"

As they arrive at the smithy's Kalhala holds back as this is Lehmani's errand and watches the dwarven man with interest.

Lehmani eyes the blacksmith's handiwork and process. She savors the scent of charcoal and hot steel in the air as a skilled chef might enjoy the aroma of a well-managed kitchen. She opens her eyes and studies the man.

She makes certain her holy symbol is clearly visible as she approaches the dwarf. As an introduction, she'd like to identify some aspect of his craft or process worth commenting on, in order to establish herself as a peer in his field.

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The young minotaur scratches his head as they walk, "How long have I been defending the walls?  Well it sure feels like I've been doing it since I could walk!"  Enjoying the company of his new found friends, "How long have you all been together?"

As they arrive at the smithy's Kalhala holds back as this is Lehmani's errand and watches the dwarven man with interest.

Grymar walks along, a little jaunt in his step as he’s feeling better now.  “How long?  Hmmm, well lessee.  Come to thinkofit, it hasn’t been that long - perhaps a week or so before we met you?  But, with all that we have been through, *he pauses and looks at Lehmani and Zubien, then smiles back at Kalhala and Berkarak* it seems like we’ve known each other for ages.  Glad to have you with us…”. He muses to himself, looking down into his pouch and subconsciously patting it.  They keep walking forward and he hears the rhythmic sounds of a smith, the familiar clangs of metal on an anvil.  As they stop and take the scene in, Grymar’s face goes blank, he seems to be lost in a distant memory.  He listens and stands and stares, almost in a trance, lost in his own thoughts.  

Lehmani - You see plenty worth commenting on when you approach; the tidiness of the work space, the seamlessness of the designs, the beauty of a thing that is designed to perform a function exactly the same way every time it is used and without unnecessary accessorizing. You watch as Gaelren, without looking, opens and reaches into a drawer next to him and withdraws a tool of some sort. He places it against the blade near where the hilt will be and you recognize it as a a touchmark stamp. Gaelren holds it steady against the hot metal of the blade in a thickly gloved hand and in the other he raises his hammer. Your breath catches as you recognize it as the hammer from your vision. The one you saw yourself wielding as you reforged Durgeddin's broken blade. The one belonging to Durgeddin himself. Gaelren strikes the touchmark stamp firmly and precisely and when he withdraws it, you see a heron mark imprinted on the blade. The same mark you saw on the broken blade. Gaelren holds the blade up to his face and inspects the mark, muttering to himself all the while. You see his eyes focus beyond the blade and onto you. They don't meet your gaze, but instead dart around your person before settling on the symbol of Gond. Gaelren stares at it for a second, no longer muttering. He sets the blade down and puts the hammer in a ring at his belt before removing the thick glove from his hand. He come around to where you stand and stares at the symbol, his eyes never having left it once they found it. Seemingly totally oblivious to your presence, Gaelren reaches up and touches the symbol of Gond. His finger gently traces its shape and slides across its surface before Gaelren suddenly begins muttering again, "...high carbon steel, fourteen point three seven ounces, chromium, point eight ounces, forged temperature reached one thousand nine hundred forty two degrees, struck eight thousand six hundred twenty nine times..." Gaelren's face has remained expressionless during this entire exchange and he hasn't otherwise acknowledged you. He stops muttering and stares at the symbol for a few moments more before returning to his work without a word. Gaelren simply ignores all attempts to gain his attention for a few minutes before you hear a man's voice call out from inside the smithy, "Gael, the tea is ready. Better get in here and get it while it's hot, what what." A man appears at the door and he looks surprised to see you, "Gael, ya didn't tell me we had visitors, what what!" He then chuckles to himself and steps outside. He is an older human man clothed in a simple grey robe. He is large, well over six feet tall and though the robe and fat do conceal it, he appears to still have quite a bit of muscle despite his years. He has a white beard and a horseshoe of shoulder length white hair around his head, though he his bald on top. The man smiles and offers his large hand to any that would take it, "Hello, name's Trappis. What can I do for ya?"

Lehmani's plan to make a more casual introduction based on shared professional knowledge falls by the wayside the moment she sees the heron imprint.

She studies Gaelren as he approaches her and touches the symbol of Gond. She keeps her attention focused on him as Trappis enters the room.

She doesn't break her gaze as she replies to his question. "I was... told to come here." She replies, cryptically as she produces the box with the broken blade's hilt. She opens it, revealing the haron-marked hilt. "They call us the Giantsbane. We recovered this from the hoard of a hill giant who was terrorizing a village far from here. Wondered if you might be able to explain its meaning."

All - Trappis' eyes widen at the sight of the heron marked blade. He glances over to where Gaelren is whacking away at his anvil, "I suppose ya all'd better come inside, what what." He sets down a steaming cup of tea on a table next to Gaelren before heading inside with a wave of his hand, indicating that you should follow. Stepping inside you find a simple living area for Trappis and Gaelren. There are the typical furnishings, including two beds, a table and chairs, dressers, cupboards and the like, but what draws your attention are the seemingly endless amount of cogs covering every wall. They vary in size, color, material, and texture, but they all resemble the four spoked cog that Lehmani wears. Trappis motions toward the two chairs as he eases into a sitting position on his bed. The bed creaks and sags under his weight but holds steady. Trappis notices you all noticing the cogs and comments, "Aye, Gael loves his coggies, what what. That's what we call 'em anyhow. I see ya got a coggie too there, sister." Trappis nods his head at Lehmani, "A Gondian then? Explains why you might be interested in Gael, what what. Seems every coupla years or so we get a groupa visitors calling on us to ask after 'Durgeddin's lost treasure' an' all that." As he mentions Durgeddin's treasure his voice takes on a faux-mystical tone and he waves his hands theatrically. "What what." He pauses to take a sip of his tea and draw one leg up and over the other, "Well, frankly I dare ta say they're a little disappointed once they meet the last of Durgeddin's line. They come fulla questions an' poke an' prod and get Gael all worked up, what what." Trappis sighs and regards his tea for a moment, "What I'm gettin' at is he don't know nothin' 'bout no treasure. The boy... I say boy, but he's older than I am, what what. He just wants to work. The gods gave him a head so fulla ideas an' calculations an' well... When they made room for it all, they just tossed out some ah the other stuff. Some ah the stuff you an I take for granted, what what. You get what I'm sayin'?" Trappis eyes you all for a moment and says, "All the questions an' pokin' and proddin'... He cain't handle it. It's too much. Takes me a week ta get him back in sorts after he has an episode." Trappis is teary-eyed at this point and reaches down to grab part of the comforter beneath him to dab his eyes. He mutters, "What what..." With a sniffle and blows his nose with a great honk. "So, I'd be happy ta answer your questions ta the best that I can. Just... Let Gael alone, what what?" His tone raises a pitch at the last bit, turning it into a question.

Lehmani -

When Trappis offered his hand in greeting, Kalhala happily stepped forward and took it, shaking it vehemently as he looked from Gael's interest in Lehmani and back to the Trappis.   

As they follow Trappis inside, the minotaur moves very carefully, trying not to let his large bulk break anything.  As he looks at the two small chairs, he sighs and then finds a place to stand.  He listens to what Trappis says and wonders what treasure he is talking about.

Lehmani nods. "I very much understand." She gives Gaelren a warm smile, then follows Trappis.

Once they're inside and settled, Lehmani asks Trappis, "I do hope I'm not overstepping by asking this, but what bond do you share with dear Gaelren out there? You evidently care for him quite a bit."

Grymar spends a little longer outside as everyone turns indoors with Trappis.  He puts his hand on the anvil, his eyes looking far away, lost in thought.  A bee buzzes around him, landing on his shoulder, the wind blows and he doesn’t even notice.  Several minutes pass, and then he comes to, as if out of a reverie and he shakes his head.  He steps away from the anvil, looking down at his shoulder, saying “Hello there!”  A smile comes to his face.  He looks up and remembers why he is here, pads off quickly into the house, sitting down and catching up with the conversation.  

Grymar speaks up at the end of the speech by Trappis, saying “So, you think if you just ignore it, stuff it down, make him forget where he is from, what he is about, what his heritage is … that is better for him?  That he shouldn’t face his memories head on, try to gain understanding and move beyond them?  Lookityourself man!  You’re makin him tea, when he wants to be swinging a hammer!  Ahh crap… don mine me, just givin you my perspective… maybe a different, a Dwarven view, thas all…”. At the last he looks down at his feet, then out the window, then staying quiet.

Zubien follows everyone in, and graciously accepts some tea. He observes and listens to the conversation