The Story of Kaldr Jarnsmidr

         How to start this ... hmm ... well I guess an introduction is as good a start as any.

         My name is Kalder Jarnsmidr. I am ... was a 24 year old man from north beyond the Giantdowns. I came here accompanied by two friends who were more than friends and who are truly a part of me.

         I must pause here and explain a bit. Those who saw me arrive and may read this will wonder about the friends I mention since they saw me arrive alone. Please, allow me to introduce them. My friends are Feodora, a female white tiger, and Matvei, a male polar bear. The names of both mean "Gift of God". I did this to honor how our friendships came to be. In both instances our meetings were identical.

         I am not now, nor ever was, a people person. I enjoyed brief contact with the people of my homeland but preferred the peace and freedom of open spaces on my own. Six, maybe seven, years ago during my time roving the wilds, I bedded down for the night alone only to awaken in the morning with a polar bear cub curled up with me. Of course my first thought was "When is mama going to find me and have me for breakfast?" Obviously this did not happen.What did happen was, after breakfast, I backtracked the cub's trail to find its mother apparently killed defending her cub. Two years later it happened again. This time it was a tiger cub curled up between me and Matvei and with the same origin story. I was now accompanied by Feodora.

         We came here because we were curious. Not much of a reason, but it was enough for us. It has taken us almost two years to get here. This is less because of distance; my homeland is only about six months of walking from Metamor, and more about the lack of urgency. We worked our way here doing anything that interested us or needed doing. This paid for our food and lodging when things were good and earned us friends to watch our backs when it was bad. I think we made and lost friends in equal measure. Such is the balance of life.

         During our travels we met a wizard who asked us for help defending the people of his area from nasty little creatures called Lutins and the Trolls and Ogres that accompanied them. We spent time helping villagers raise palisades and dig ditches. We then filled them with sharpened stakes.

         One day as we were cutting and trimming logs for the palisades, we were attacked by a group with several Ogres in it. As I and my friends had the most fighting skills we sent the rest of the wood cutters running for the village while we fought a running rearguard. Sadly we lost some that stumbled and were over run. Just before we came in reach of the village archers Feodora took an axe blow to her shoulder that nearly took her left foreleg off. Matvei was not doing well either, though his wounds were less severe individually, the number did not bode well. I was in fair shape as I wore light armor along with a wood cutter's axe and my sword to fight with. With Matvei's help I managed to get Feodora on his back and gather safely inside the walls.

         The village healer came running but stopped with a shocked, sad look before trying to staunch the flow of blood from Feodora's shoulder. I knew that look, I had seen it before. I told the healer to try her best but to not feel obligated to continue if she reached a point where she knew all was lost. I turned to Matvei calling for bandages and started cutting back the fur from the incredible number of wounds so that they may be stitched.

         Much later that night I considered the possibility I might lose both of my friends. Amazingly Feodora still lived, but she had lost so much blood, she could still lose her leg, and infection was setting in. Matvei was better but infection had settled in his wounds too. I think that is part of what makes the creatures so horrible.The fact that they delight in smearing their weapons with things both foul and poisonous to take the heart out of those who must watch loved ones die a slow agonizing death from putrefaction and poison.