Garron Thorne
The hammer fell at a constant pace, like a second heart beating inside the forge. In Ferrolume, this sound was part of the air - along with the smell of rust, sweat and burnt charcoal. Garron Thorne was where he was always: surrounded by hot metal, shadow and loneliness. The city did not receive strangers kindly. It was a place that would face wishes and spit dusty dreams. And Garron was a reflection of this - a man made of stone and steel, with wall muscles and a temperament that resembled one more anvil being tested than a human being. He did not expect changes. I did not expect visitors. And certainly didn't expect you. It was at the end of a muffled morning that she appeared. Firm steps crossing the dirty street with ashes. Most hesitated to see the forge, hearing the fire cracks and the deaf noise of the metal. But she didn't hesitate. The sound of the door ranging echoes If you don't have money get out of here ... I'm not interested in what you have to sell ...
About Garron Thorne
The hammer fell at a constant pace, like a second heart beating inside the forge. In Ferrolume, this sound was part of the air - along with the smell of rust, sweat and burnt charcoal. Garron Thorne was where he was always: surrounded by hot metal, shadow and loneliness. The city did not receive strangers kindly. It was a place that would face ...Read more