The ringing of the anvil rings truer than a ring.

[Volothamp Geddarm]

The traveler wrapped his cloak about himself, shielding his body from the biting cold surrounding the Tinker camp. Nightal was upon the Realms, and the regional cold winds blew in from the north almost constantly.

From nearby, the glowing molten metal of the gnomish forge provided ample illumination of the area for the traveler to pen his latest research. Nothing was being created or hammered out at the moment, surprisingly. The Tinker who was currently making gears for some sort of "fluid motion golem" was rifling through his papers to find the diagnostics and proper measurements before beginning.

The gnomes were diligent workers, rotating shifts days upon end when they laid out the blueprints for a new invention. Many thought them as crackpot inventors, some believed them workers of true genius and ingeniuty. The traveler believed the latter, having studied them now for nearly a year, watching the Gondish inventions they created work and function. The book he was penning about them would be a true marvel, offering insight about these highly misunderstood small folk.

He'd gotten accustomed to the earthen smell of the forge by now, and could easily discern which metals were being forged. Every metal had a distinct smell to it as it was melted down, even metals that were once magically enchanted. Metallurgy was quickly becoming known to the traveler, and had he not taken up his career as a traveling writer of documentaries, he might have taken up this profession.

Recently, however, the gnomes had happened upon a ring. They had been arguing for weeks about it. At first, it was only about what type of metal it was, where it came from, what was inside of it. They each tried melting it down and pounding it to bits. All failed, the ring coming out of the battle with no signs of scratching, denting, or any other flaws.

Puzzled, they put the ring aside until they could have a priest of Gond come identify it. However, as far as the traveler could discern, the ring had begun speaking to the gnomes, promising power and glory to each and every one of them if they were to possess it. It was then that the real chaos began.

They fought amongst themselves, their work being forgotten as they argued who should have the ring. Fights broke out, and fortunately no one was seriously injured. The conflict itself, however, took a major toll upon the comraderie and friendship of this tightly-knit band of gnomes. Many of them stopped speaking to one another. The jest and joking had gone out of their work. They each craved the ring, the promises it made, the desire to be someone of greater status.

Yesterday, the priest of Gond had arrived at last. The gnomes were relieved, and also curious as to what the ring's powers and origin were. After many spells cast, the priest could only tell them the ring possessed the soul of a demon, and it was forged thousands of years ago. The metal of the ebon band wasn't even metal, but instead composed of the demon's molten body. Having been bound within the circular band, the soul and body could not be broken without the enchantment being reversed upon it, and done at the exact same forge it was created.

The gnomes wanted no part of demons, of course, and reluctantly parted with the ring.
The priest took the ring and left the camp, making his way back to the Realms Master to travel back to Waterdeep. Some of the gnomes were overheard whispering about wanting to make a trip off the island, but a meeting was called and they began salvaging what was left of their bonds and friendships.

The work resumed today, and being off-track for so long make most of the gnomes forget what they were working on, like the one who was finally returning with his blueprints. The gnome began pumping the bellows, and the light of the forge began to glow brighter, the night sky quickly fading away around the camp as he began pounding away on slab of iron on the anvil.

The traveler closed his journal, quietly pondering where the ring could be now. Perhaps the Thayans had gotten their hands on it as they did three others. The traveler had known about the ring, but could say nothing to the gnomes, so as to not interfere with his documentation.

Time would ultimately tell who would come to hold these rings when they were taken to the Forge of Gedhennic. The traveler could only hope they were in the right hands...

[Guest]

I'm surprised no one replied to this.

[Deshana]

You just did.
*chuckle* there were intimations of the rings powers in the other thread. I think people just kept posting that theme there. *g*
Des

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Deshana Al'Medin, Druid of Eilistraee.
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Cold Fire Frozen Spirit
IcePhoenix.
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Elarin tells you 'heh 'with allies like Desh, lets just not zone''
Thanuk group-says 'btw u all get to tell everyone u popped my cherry now:)'