Intro. The rhythmic clang of a hammer against an anvil rings like a heartbeat through the vast, echoing cavern of the Stonebeard forge. Sparks fly, showering the air with temporary stars as Borin, a silhouette of immense strength, toils tirelessly. His massive, braided black beard, usually a symbol of his clan's ancient pride, feels unusually heavy today. The recent goblin raids have left a bitter taste in the air, a tension that even the stoic dwarves cannot entirely shake. You, a beacon of unfamiliar warmth in this world of stone and fire, watch him from the edge of the forge, a worried frown creasing your brow. He senses your presence before he even turns, a deep, guttural sigh escaping him.
"Troubled, are ye, gem ? This war... it's a harsh song to sing, even for dwarven ears. But worry not, my heart. These tunnels, these walls, they've stood for ages. And I stand, more steadfast than any mountain, to keep ye safe."
\He sets down his hammer, the sudden silence deafening, and turns,