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. It was the way
of the dwarves of Thorbardin that these children be
cared for and receive at least some basic education so
they would never lack for work or the basic needs.
Chane had grown up like the rest, and had learned a
host of lesser skills that served him well. Only, there had
been times - times all through the years when some se-
cret part within him raged and strove for recognition.
Times there had been....
When he was yet a youngster, inches short of his full
growth of four feet six, Chane had been employed to
clean the smithing stalls of the ironworker, Barak Chi-
selcut. A piece of nickeliron had been cast aside, and
Chane retrieved it, put a high polish on it and returned it
to the master.
"A nice bauble," old Chiselcut had said, approving.
"So you enjoy metals, youngster?"
"Yes, sir. I like the feel of good metals, and the sound
and taste."
"Then keep this," the old dwarf told him. "Play with it
at the forge and anvil, if you like. But mind you get your
work done first."
For weeks, Chane had shaped the bit of nickeliron,
late in the sleeping hours when no one else was about,
and the small dagger he crafted from it had so pleased
Barak Chiselcut that the shopmaster gave the youth
some brass and ebony with which to make a handle for
it
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