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alluring, if you weren’t a dwarf that is. On the back of her armor she had the number 13 embroidered just under the collar.
Gurmble gestured to a chair for the Elvin woman to sit in, while still watching the wolverine in the corner of his eye. “Well, sit down and tell me who you might be looking for.” The wolverine padded over to one of the chairs closest to the Elven woman and laid down underneath it, he looked back at her expectantly. The elf looked at the wolverine smiled and walked over to the chair.

“Alright, I have been on the road for a ways. Also my friend Spike here seems to think you can possibly help. I am looking for a man named Rathbun Proudhammer,” said the Elven woman.

Gurmble just looked at her with intrigue. He was thinking to himself how strange today has been so far, and it already felt like there was more still to come. “Well, do you know him or not?” asked the Elven woman with slight annoyance in her voice.

“Yes, I knew him,” said Gurmble. “I knew him quite well. But you will not be finding him anytime soon. He was my father. Currently he resides in the graveyard. But you can talk to me if you like. Whatever you were going to deliver can be said or given to me. Oh, and since you’re here, what should I call you? I’m Gurmble.”

“My name is Flynn and his is Spike.” said Flynn. “I was looking for Rathbun because I wanted to talk to him about my father. He just recently passed away and he always told me about Rathbun. They served in the same legion. Growing up I remember hearing all sorts of stories about his grand adventures with Rathbun. I wanted to see him for myself and maybe hear some more stories. My father gave me this armor just before he died. He was nice enough to tailor it to me. I just want to continue on his legacy and go on some grand adventures of my own. Also I was looking for any clues that Rathbun may have had about my mother. I have never seen or heard from her and my father always changed the subject when I brought that up. Almost like he was hiding something. So I figured why not go to his best friend who would have met my mother at some point and time. Well, since he isn’t here I may never find my mother” Flynn paused and choked back some tears.

Gurmble chose his words carefully. “Well Flynn, I’m surprised you got this far into the city. It is quite dangerous out there, though from the blood stains on your armor, I can see you’ve already found that out.” Gurmble motioned toward the Half-Elf in the chair next to him, “This gentleman here is Elderist. He, too, was looking for my father. His grandfather was in the 13th legion with my father as well. To be honest with you, I thought after my father’s death, I would never again hear about the 13th Legion. I was always told that no one had children other than my father. But we seem to all have a common goal…..” Gurmble was cut short when the door opened again.

Two new strangers stumbled into the smithy. Both were tall and looked frail. One person carried a war hammer, he stood about six feet, on his side whilst the other standing at five foot ten leaned on a simple staff. The one with the staff had a cloak wrapped around him and you could just barely smell dried herbs and some spices in the air. Through the tattered spots in his cloak you can notice that he had some leather armor on. He had long brown hair that covered most of his face. If you looked closely enough you would notice that he had several old cuts on his face. His face was streaked with mud, blood, and sweat from the long hard road that they traveled on. He was the one half carrying the man in with the hammer. He needed to lean on his staff more for support in

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