Tithinian the master smith was the first to recieve the new steel, the product of the recently founded Hilsatiri mines. The gnomes were only too happy to provide the odd new iron to make the fine Elvish Steel. He began the complex ritual that accompanied the making of the best of the elvish war-blades. His hammering of the steel followed an ancient proscribed rythym, one which if followed to perfection would lend the blade the full power and grace of the elvish people.
For hours he worked, the hammering pattern musical and unbroken, until just near the end. His mind slipped, for a moment, but no slips were allowed. His next hammer-strike was off, and instead of the harmonic ring, a dischordnant tone assaulted his ears. The blade, once shimmering with magic and harmony, became dark and ugly.
Enraged with himself, he cursed the blade, forgetting for the moment who he was, and where. Still raging, he took the spoiled blade over to the crucible and threw it in to be reforged later. It would be days before he'd be ready to work on the next blade.
Before he could do so, a second smith arrived at the shop and used the discarded steel to fashion into a fine steel breastplate.
Later on, the proud elvish warrior wearing the bright steel breastplate was struck by the spell of an enemy sorcerer, and this magical attack triggered the metal to revert to it's previous form, transfixing the elf. Go to Comment
During a public holiday in the small town of Wyrmbersch, the Mayor is accidentally killed by a statue which falls from the roof of the Town Hall. As shocked spectators crowd around the body, they discover that the Mayor, at the moment of death, shape-shifted into a squat, stunted humanoid figure, it's grey skin dominated by bony ridges and lumps. How long was the Mayor an imposter? And who else in the town isn't what they seem to be?