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“I miss you dad. I wish you could have been alive to meet all these guests. It would have been great to hear you tell stories about the days you were in the thirteenth again.”  Gurmble wiped the tear from his eye then went just past the door on the far left wall. There were a few wooden dummies that served as armor holders. The first one was built about the size of a dwarf. The one next to it was about the size of a six foot one human. On each there was a chain shirt hanging on them. He took the chain shirt off the first one as well as the leather undershirt and put them on. Making sure to cinch the chain shirt to the leather so there wasn’t a lot of movement. He then grabbed the chain shirt on the human sized dummy as well as the leather undershirt and headed back out to the common room.

“Here you go Joanan. This should fit you.” Said Gurmble as he walked back through the door holding the chain shirt up.

Joanan smiled and took the armor from Gurmble. “Thank you. I will be honored to wear something that you have made. I shall be back.” Joanan then turned around and went upstairs to get changed.

Gurmble turned back around and went back into the study. He went into the door that was next to his armor. Inside was a large bed up against the middle of the far back wall with the footboard facing the door. The bed was made of cherry wood and looked to be expertly carved. In the head board there were pictures of the old heroes from Dwavern stories. One of Gurmble’s favorite was that of King Dylurn Stonefist. He was said to have founded the first Dwarven kingdom under the mountain. The same one that his father use to talk about all the time. Dylurn was depicted in full plate mail armor, carrying a sword in his right hand that looked like it was on fire, and in his left was a large shield with his crest on it. The posts of the bed was carved to look like forge hammers standing head up. The footboard had a large forge carved into it. His father always said it was the fabled forge that created King Dylurn’s sword of fire.

To the left of the bed was a simple oak dresser. On top of the dresser was a lit oil lamp lighting up the room. There was a closet on the right hand wall that looked in disarray. Gurmble was still in the process of going through his father’s belongings to see what he could salvage and what he had to sell. Times were getting tough for the Proudhammer’s.

What Gurmble was looking for was to the right of him when he came through the door. On the floor leaning up against the wall was a large steel shield and a war hammer. On the very front of the shield was the Proudhammer crest. The crest was of a hammer and sword crossing under what looked like a large letter B but without the middle part fully connecting. Gurmble slung the shield up his arm using the leather strap to cinch it on just enough that should he need to use it he could pull it down quickly and clasp the handle. Gurmble took the hammer and fit it snuggly into a holder on his belt. Being ready for his patrol he blew out the lamp and headed back to the study. He blew out the lamp in the study and made his way into the common room. By the time he got there everyone was already downstairs and seemed to be ready.

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