Gihrun sets off

Gihrun found his shoulders aching from the huge logs he had been dragging to town all day, the last few would have to wait till tomorrow. With the sun setting and the air cooling it was time to enjoy a well earned mug or two.

The tables outside the Stoutlager inn were filled with mountaineers, villagers and a fellow wearing a golden mountain embroided on the front and back of his green tabard. Our woodworker sat himself on the perch above the stairs and listened to the tale spun by this burly dwarf. Gihrun loved the tales the rifle squad members would tell, tales of bravery, camaraderie and explorations. Many tales he had heard before, but this one seemed different. It wasn't the words, not the exploits recounted, but the spirit in which the tale was spun. The way this squad member spoke lit a small fire in Gihrun's heart.

The last log finally hauled upon the hill the dwarf sat down, in the distance he could see the village and it's inhabitants going about there daily bussiness. 'T was a week since the small inner fire was lit and his mind had been racing to get a grip on his heart. No amount of reasoning could turn the voice of exploration. A voice that seemed to be screaming to be heard, and whispered to get attention. A voice that would not let go until it was given in to, a voice Gihrun could no longer ignore. He wrote a few words on a bit of paper, stuck it between some lumps of wood and turned around.

When the brothers Blunderblast came to inspect the work the next day they found the paper, it read

"Ah'm aff tae find an' licht mah fire, aff tae find the rifle squad in Ironforge."

I really enjoyed reading this short piece . It was very interesting and I hope you continue writing!