And The Stars, And the Earth
Here is something that is true; find any building, hovel, or hole with anvils ringing and forges glowing, and you will find a son of Earth at the bellows. There is only one dwarf in the village of St.-Martindale-By-Hollow; the smith, Jarilo. He was abandoned at the town’s namesake church as an infant, and has lived all his life here. He speaks hardly a lick of the Dwarven tongue, but he has lost none of his people’s aptitude for the working of metal. He shoes horses, sharpens scythes, scrapes nails, patches cauldrons, forges wedding rings, and (mercifully rarely, praise to Gods of Mercy) beats plowshares into swords when the need arises.