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. His first hammer was no more than a lump
of iron remelted, skimmed clean and shaped in a clay
mold. But with its help he crafted a second one - a ham-
mer that even a Hylar prince or Daewar merchant in the
finest halls of Thorbardin might have envied. For though
Chane Feldstone - orphaned and without a known
lineage - had been relegated to the lowly ranks of com-
mon delver and sometimes outsman in the teeming realm
within the Kharolis Mountains, still the high crafts came
to him easily when he turned his hand to them.
Often through the years of childhood he had watched
others of his age go off to apprentice at the trades of me-
talsmithy, stonecutting, and other such high callings.
Sometimes he had been envious that those so chosen had
someone of note to sponsor them. His hands had longed
for the feel of good tools, and his heart had yearned for
the chance to do such works as those more fortunate
would one day do. Still, he had not been alone in his cir-
cumstances. Among the seven cities of the undermoun-
tain kingdom there always were thousands of children
without access to great name or the comfort of wealth.
Children of the warrens and the ways, the offspring of
warriors who didn't come home or traders lost to the
outlands, orphans and waifs of all sorts
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