Kragdin Starbreaker walked out of Kal’Evraal, a piece of parchment in hand. He would stroll through the magnificient hall leading towards Kal’Mugdor, as the fiery eyes of the ancestor’s statues glared at him. As he got closer to the Workers Guild, the Starbreaker heard the soothing sounds of the hammer and anvil, reassuring him that even in these difficult times, his people remained stalwart and unwavering in their will to honor the Forge-Father, Yemekar.
As he reached the top of the stairs leading into the Guild, he recognized the Yemekar’s Pick, Dorimnur Goldhand, hard at work hammering a spearhead he held with his tongs. Kragdin leaned on the wall, in Dorimnur’s sight and began unrolling the parchment he brought from the city. ”Oi Dorimnur! Would ye take a break fer a moment, as ah bring good news from t’e clergey.” The Starbreaker would say. The Yemekar’s Pick slammed his hammer to announce a pause in his work. He’d walk to his lunchbox and began eating, waiting for the announcement to come.
Kragdin would read the missive out loud, his voice echoing into the Guild. Dorimnur exclaimed himself at the end of the annoucement “Now t’at be ah festival ah’d go to. Nae interested in t’at Belka one w’en we’ve got ah war wit’ ot’erworldleh bein’s, but t’is? T’is be wot weh need.” Kragdin would chuckle at the Goldhand’s comment, saying “Now now, ye dinnae want tae angeh Lady Belka, dont ye? But aye, t’is festival es lookin tae be quoite t’e eventful un! Displeh ov craftmanship, foig’ten, ‘onoren our ancestehs... Ah agree t’is un peaks moi int’rest loike nae ot’eh.” Kragdin would say, his shoulder rolling. “Well t’en, ah’ll leave ye tae yer work, we’ll need plentey ov t’ose.” He’d utter, pointing at the spearhead. “Ah’ll see ye at t’e festival.” The Starbreaker said, already walking away from the forge, pondering on what Dorimnur mentionned about this festival being what the dwarves needed...